An Exercise in Empathy
Many of us have been reacting emotionally to turmoil south of the border even before the sovereignty of our own nation was called into question.
I admit to being one of the most boring people on the planet. I was born in Alberta, completed my education in Alberta, and have worked as a lawyer in Alberta for 38 years. I have never had the slightest desire to leave my home province where I feel I have everything I need and access to most that I want.
At first, I laughed derisively at “fifty-first state” comments. Clearly, the person uttering these statements lacked understanding of Canadian culture and our understated Canadian pride. No doubt this was just a random thought that somehow emerged aloud, I thought. As this thought was doubled down on, I began to realize that the geopolitical landscape around me was changing—what if, heaven forbid, force (whether economic or military) was brought to bear north of the 49th parallel?
What if the rule of law, sacred to most Canadian lawyers, was under attack? What if we were no longer permitted to practice law the way we believe law should be practiced? What if we no longer felt safe in our own country (and province)?
Would I uproot my family which now includes two daughters-in-law who have their own families? And where would we go? And how would we make our living?
I’m 62, so perhaps the idea of me seeking a livelihood in a new land seems a bit far-fetched. But allow me my anxiety-fueled attempts to envision how my future would unfold. But I realized something, and I want to challenge all of us to consider this: how would we make our ways as foreign lawyers forced to flee our homes?
We are used to a particular way of conducting ourselves, for the most part, whether it is in terms of how we dress at the office, how we communicate with colleagues and counsel on the other side, how we present ourselves in court and in the boardroom. How would we learn not only a new system of law but the more subtle ways in which the art of law is mastered?
I realized that while I am very comfortable with how we practice law in Canada (as much as I can ever be comfortable with litigation!), I would be terrified to enter another jurisdiction’s legal landscape. Even assuming that I were able to have my credentials assessed by a new jurisdiction and passed exams or took courses, how do you learn the implied conventions other than by trial and error. Would I find a kind colleague who would take me under their wing and give me pointers or would I be on my own, seeking to interpret the behaviour of others for the secret code?
This little descent down the rabbit hole gave me more insight into empathy, and particularly empathy for internationally trained lawyers. Most internationally trained lawyers (ITLs, for short—and I am going to use the term ITL for lawyers who trained and practiced in another country before moving to Canada) did not pursue law studies and practice with a view to creating an equivalency which would allow them easy access to the Canadian legal market. Most are just like me in my paranoia story—they are happy, or somewhat satisfied at least, with where they live, until something occurs whether it is a cataclysmic event or the erosion of what they value, that causes them to begin the process of moving to a new jurisdiction.
We would all hope that our legal education would be viewed as satisfactory but would expect that we would need to work hard to learn local law and customs. How would someone like me, who has not written a law exam for almost 38 years, set about studying? The last time I wrote an exam, the Alberta bar exam in 1987, we sat at desks in a large room writing in booklets with pens!
How would we feel when, after we passed the relevant exams after however many tries were necessary, our experience was written off as irrelevant and our job applications went directly into the virtual equivalent of the circular filing cabinet?
I am asking these questions (and I promise to stop now) because most of us, even those of us who work with ITLs, have not had to consider how we would feel if we were in the position of our ITL colleagues. That is why I am setting up a path of thinking about what our own journeys would be like if something unthinkable happened in Canada and we had to make our way elsewhere.
I often find that I am talking to lawyers and law students (both articling and law school) about the golden rule—"do unto others as you would have them do unto you”-- and extending grace to others --giving something that may not have been earned-- in the practice of law. Both the golden rule and extension of grace would enhance civility and dial down stress in our interactions, and possibly make our practices more enjoyable. We would hope that lawyers in our fictional new country would recognize that we are newcomers who are just asking for a chance to learn what we need to know in order to be accepted, since we know that we, as human beings, value being accepted into our communities.
What can we each do, knowing that 70% of Alberta articling students received their legal education in jurisdictions other than Canada? We can be mindful of the experience that ITLs (but perhaps not Canadians who pursue law studies overseas) have and that they are likely feeling very “other”—the opposite of being accepted. We can stop to think about how difficult it must have been to pack up and leave their home country and then having to requalify and find their way in a new culture.
Being friendly is a great first step. Smile and say hello—and don’t avoid lawyers who may be from another country or culture. Say hi and ask where they work or what they do (but don’t open by asking where they are from!)
Being kind and friendly costs nothing. I am a relatively shy person who has had to learn how to be more outgoing in my professional world—this is likely true for most of us introverts. But I have also learned the power of small acts of kindness. Not only can you see the impact of a small act of kindness on the person you say something nice to, you feel better inside. Dr. Brian Forbes, the head of Assist’s psychological services provider, wrote an article on this issue, stating that performing an act of kindness “reduces stress, increases happiness, reduces blood pressure, reduces pain, boosts health and increases longevity”.
So, acts of kindness benefit the recipient but they make you feel better, too, in tangible ways.
I am not advocating insincere interactions. While I don’t have research or expert opinions to back this up, I suspect that the amount of energy it would take for me to come up with an insincere compliment and figure out how to say it would consume more energy than I would benefit from. But if you see someone who looks lost or alone—say in the courthouse and you think they are a lawyer and not someone looking for free legal advice-- a kind word can go a long way.
At Red Mug Coffee Circles, Assist’s online gathering space, we encourage newcomers to the Alberta community to try to get to know lawyers they meet at the courthouse, at in-person CBA section meetings or at other professional events. We encourage them to ask if they can learn more about the lawyer’s practice area if it interests them and perhaps to ask if they could shadow the lawyer for a day. These activities can help newcomers to build bridges and ultimately feel comfortable with how lawyers conduct themselves in our community.
Having someone shadow you does not cost anything (I don’t think there is anyone who thinks that shadowing involves money flowing from either the shadower or the shadowee!) and you can address confidentiality issues with a simple non-disclosure agreement. And of course, anyone wanting to shadow you who is a lawyer or articling student is governed by our Code of Conduct, making confidentiality a professional obligation.
You can reach out to newcomers by inviting them to a legal community event where they can network and learn more about Alberta lawyer culture. Or you can help connect them to lawyers who practice in an area they are interested in. As we say at Red Mug Coffee Circles, if it takes a village to raise a child, it takes a community to raise a lawyer.
Sometimes, reaching out to help another lawyer, especially a newcomer, can feel like one more thing you have to do when you already have a long list. But if you take a few moments to think about how a kind person made a difference, or could make a difference, in your life, you may just find that you can fit in a short chat!
Loraine