Bar News - November 5, 2004
The Un-Heartwarming Appeal for Professional Lawyers to Do Pro Bono Work
By: Marilyn B. McNamara
Professionalism
AS THE EXECUTIVE DIRECTOR of the Legal Advice and Referral Center; the federally funded advice and referral arm of the New Hampshire legal services community, I spend much of my time recruiting and fund-raising for civil legal services for the needy. We often tell stories-anecdotes of our clients' lives and the legal problems that threaten their homes, health, families, employment and sometimes even their lives. Citing facts and dull statistics isn't enough-stories breathe life into the numbers and we have found that lawyers respond well to genuine examples of ways in which lawyers make a difference for clients.
 But this article isn't about the stories and how we strive to find just the right story to prod your conscience. It's about your professionalism and how legal service to the poor is an integral part of that concept.
It is your right to turn into ice at the suggestion that you owe a duty to the needy. You probably didn't go to law school, suffer through the bar exam, face down student loans and sacrifice your weekends so you could hear that you haven't done enough yet. Through your hard work, you have achieved professional status. You've learned to sharpen your words, turn your phrases carefully and apply keen arguments to well-developed facts. You've paid heavy dues. You take pride in your work, your competence and the respect of your peers, and you should. You are a professional-almost. But, no, you're not there yet.
I'm writing to the lawyer who thinks the stories are maudlin, the clients undeserving and the cases uninteresting. I respect that point of view, because it's honest and, quite often, accurate; but the consummate professional is the one who comes to the aid of the needy whether or not the client, the facts or the law is particularly compelling. In short, I am directing my plea, not to those who are driven to help, but to the unmoved.
The stories are wrenching because life at the bottom of the American food chain is pretty miserable and most of the folks there are either depressed, disabled or elderly (a third are children, but that's too maudlin to mention). Quite a few fit into more than one category. Their problems have come about because they can't work as hard as you work and even when they do, they can't get paid a living wage because they lack your education, skill and ability with language.
The clients are undeserving because they are human. They have bad tempers, or bad credit-they've ignored good advice and taken bad. They've hedged the facts, ignored the obvious, taken foolish risks and fallen in love with the wrong person or persons (sometimes simultaneously). They are, in other words, just like the rest of us. They don't glow with gratitude or emit a saintly aura. For the record, they are no dumber and no smarter than any other sector of society, but neither are they less or more interesting.
As to the cases, they are, quite often, dull as dirt. Same old stories: late rent, bad landlord, lying spouse, too-early marriage, no marriage, didn't read the fine print-nothing new, except of course to the person struggling with the problem. A good case will come along now and again, but for the most part, it's all the same stuff. Not much to crow about, really, if you do take on a case. It's just ordinary work-not very noble. Not like the fine sacrifice of representing an unpopular defendant and standing on a principle to do it. Not that there isn't a principle behind representing people just because they need it and can't pay; it's just a quieter, less glamorous theme.
There are many lawyers in New Hampshire who take Pro Bono cases and contribute money to legal services because they have the passion to do good (or enough guilt to drive them in the same direction-either works), but it's not enough passion and guilt to deliver all the legal services that poor people need. We cannot claim that New Hampshire lawyers care about equal justice for all when less than half the Bar carries the burden and the rest find reasons to let them.
Poor people need every one of us. They need the lawyers who think that "others" will do the work and do it better. They need the lawyers who already work in public service. They need the lawyers who cannot or will not volunteer and don't think to write a check. They need the lawyers who resent the mandatory bar association, or disapprove of the legal service delivery system or the clients. Poor people need you without regard to how you feel about all of the above, and they need you whether or not you approve of them or their problems.
The ability to suspend bias and act in the best interests of the client is one of the hallmarks of this profession. When you do your best work for a client you don't understand, in a case you find distasteful, you put your professionalism to work (and you may even find yourself feeling pretty good about righting a wrong for people who can't do it on their own). And if commitments prohibit you from taking a case, you can write a check instead. It really helps-it helps the clients, it helps justice, and it helps you.
Marilyn McNamara is the executive director of the NH Legal Advice and Referral Center, and a member of the Professionalism Committee.
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