I will not be voting for any
bencher candidates that do not fully and openly support equity, inclusion and
diversity initiatives. Here’s why.
I graduated from Queen’s
University law school in 1983. I was the only black student, and one of
only a handful of racialized (non-white) students, in my class of 150.
One day, after I’d asked a question in a lecture, a classmate to whom I’d never
spoken looked perplexed. He asked me whether I was a foreign
student. No, I’m from Kitchener, I replied. After second year of
law school, I applied for an articling position in Toronto. During
an interview, a partner of the firm said to me – “You’re black, you must come
from a poor family.” No, I’m from a pretty average, middle class family,
I replied. (My mother, although a single parent, was a psychology
professor at the University of Guelph). I didn’t get the articling
position. Several years into practice, a client who I was meeting for the
first time looked at me, surprised, and said “You didn’t sound black on
the phone.” Frankly, since the person was client I didn’t reply. I
just smiled (in a black sort of way). A couple of years ago, I was
attending a reception with judges of the Ontario Court of Justice, as a member
of The Advocates’ Society’s board of directors. I was the only racialized
lawyer in a small group. During introductions, one of the judges turned
to me (and only me) and asked, “Are you a sole practitioner?” No, I’m a
partner in a 100 lawyer law firm I replied.
I could go on, but you get my
point. More than 35 years later, I’m still being asked the same questions
that, to some, may seem innocent, but to me are at best annoying and at worst
offensive. Whether or not they intended to so, all of these people put me
in a position where I got my back up. Suddenly, I was on the defensive,
trying to justify why I was in the place that I was, doing what I was doing and
speaking the way that I speak. These questions and statements are
examples of “unconscious bias”. They made my “lived experience” so much
different from the experience lived by for example, white, middle class law
students from Kitchener.
In the last two weeks of
April, Ontario lawyers and paralegals will vote to elect benchers of the Law
Society of Ontario (LSO). These are the people that, over the next few
years, will decide how to tackle the important issues that are presently facing
the legal profession in our province. In my view, equity, diversity and
inclusion in the profession is one such issue. The last convocation of
benchers decided that the issue was important enough to establish a working
group to address challenges faced by racialized licensees. In 2016, the
working group released a report that recommended a number of specific
initiatives. As one of the D&I initiatives, the LSO introduced a
Statement of Principles (SOP). Pursuant to the SOP, all licensees are
required to create and abide by an individual SOP that acknowledges their
obligation to promote equality, diversity and inclusion generally, and in their
behaviour toward colleagues, employees, clients and the public.
Not surprisingly, following
the LSO’s introduction of the SOP, there ensued a vigorous debate in the
profession, including at my firm, about whether the SOP was somehow offensive
because the LSO was purporting to dictate behaviour to intelligent, educated
professionals. Comments made to me went something like this: How
dare the LSO encroach on our independence and freedom of expression with some
Orwellian principle? Isn’t it trite to say that we all believe that that
racism and discrimination are bad? We don’t need the LSO to tell us that!
Give me a break. Sure.
I agree that the LSO’s approach to the SOP is ham-fisted. However,
sometimes you need to be act with a fist to bring about change. In my
experience, attitudes simply don’t change with the passage of time.
People don’t magically become more enlightened. Real change happens because the
people to whom it matters, simply refuse to accept the status quo. If
attitudes change, we’ve learned that the outward manifestation of those
attitudes into meaningful action can be painstakingly slow. It has proven
to be the case in a profession that seems incredibly resistant to change.
In terms of diversity and inclusion, the legal profession has not yet
fully embraced the concept.
Racialized and other equity
seeking lawyers still face disproportionate barriers in obtaining articling
positions, and in the licensing process. They continue to be
underrepresented in proportion to Ontario’s population in legal workplaces and
at all levels of seniority. Lawyers like me are becoming impatient.
A speaker at a recent D&I seminar hosted by my firm told us that sometimes
you need to be disruptive to accelerate the pace of change.
Inclusion is an important
concept. To feel included in the profession means a sense of pride and
belonging. It means feeling that your contributions as a member of the
profession are respected and valued. At the very least, it means not
being subjected to annoying and inane comments and questions that require you
to defend and justify your membership in the profession. If the LSO
doesn’t take up that cause on behalf of its licensees, who else is going
to do it? We need to drag the profession into the 21st century,
and sometimes being disruptive is the only way to accomplish that goal.
On an intellectual level, I
can understand why some have a problem with the SOP. On a practical
level, I can’t fathom why some bencher candidates would invest the amount of
time and energy it would take to make stopping the SOP the cornerstone of their
platforms. Whatever the reason, I will not be voting for any of them.
Regards,
Blair
