It suddenly occurred to me the other day that I have been spending more time with older women colleagues – and I mean older than me – wherever possible lately. I tried to ask myself why I’m gravitating toward these wise women, all of a sudden, once again, as I used to do of course as a new lawyer. When I was young and green, seeking out mentorship of my older female colleagues was a must and I took every advantage of every such opportunity at literally every turn.
As a law student, the litigation Gods must have been smiling down on me because I somehow managed to play a supporting role in some of the country’s most important cases for women, under the incomparable guidance and mentorship of the country’s best litigator, Mary Eberts. You can learn more about those cases and my admiration for Mary here:
As a new lawyer, I became interested, almost by happenstance, in mental health and the law. Back then mentors specifically in mental health as a practice area were tough to find and ultimately proved to be a group of exactly one – Carla McKague. If you didn’t know her, and at this point that’s certainly more likely to be the case, here is a nice piece about Carla by former Consent and Capacity Board Chair, Michael Bay.
I was lucky. Somehow I met Carla. Somehow she took a liking to me. Somehow I was fortunate enough to spend real time with her, listen to her stories, laugh at her jokes, smoke a lot of cigarettes with her. Have some drinks. She was an absolutely inspiring larger than life presence in my little burgeoning world of mental health and the law, even if she was physically a tiny person indeed. But she was brilliant and hilarious and along with now retired Superior Court of Justice Judge Anne Molloy, single-handedly responsible for all the jurisprudence and all the legal safeguards that persons with serious mental health issues had come to rely upon in Ontario. Carla and Anne (as she then was) were responsible for the big win in Fleming v. Reid that gave me the building blocks for the landmark case of Starson v Swayze.
Fleming v. Reid, 1991 CanLII 2728 (ON CA), <https://canlii.ca/t/1p78q>
Starson v. Swayze, 2003 SCC 32 (CanLII), [2003] 1 SCR 722, <https://canlii.ca/t/1g6p9>
Carla helped me prep oral argument for my first appearance in the SCC as amicus curiae on that case. Looking back, I should have brought her with me. I don’t know why I didn’t. I regret that omission. She had earned the right to appear in our apex Court on the issue to which she dedicated her entire career. I was some new kid on the block who lucked into a client and a case that would go on to engage the minds and hearts of Canadians and our Courts – probably because ‘A Beautiful Mind’ – the movie about John Nash with Russell Crow was in the theatre at the same time in 2002, quite fortuitously.
Here is my blog post about that case
Carla died in 2015 at the age of 76. She is, as always, still very much missed.
As my career in mental health law expanded to include more diverse aspects of the practice area, into what we now call Elder Law, I relied often on the expertise and mentorship of yet another wonderful woman, Judith Wahl. She led by example with her courage and candour. Sadly, we lost Judith last year. You can read more about her here:
In 2015 as well, through a fortuitous mutual colleague, I met family law litigator extraordinaire, Julie Hannaford. Julie very generously included me as one of the teachers in her world renowned trial advocacy course of the U of T law school. More than that though, Julie came into my life during a relatively brief but extremely traumatic time, when I simply was not myself. She was incredibly kind to me and my daughter, a kindness I will never forget. And Julie has taught me more useful practical litigation advocacy skills than anyone else – mainly through teaching me how to teach.
As my career took me away from the civil realm more toward the criminal law over time, I developed a broader support group of women colleagues in the defence bar and made many new friends there. But they were my peers. By then I had become what you’d call a mid-career mentor myself. Looking at the generation above me there was the great Marlys Edwardh who had done so much important and pioneering work in mental disorder and the criminal law. While I got to work on some cases alongside Marlys — but never on her team, I watched her talent with awe. I unfortunately never got to know her personally particularly. She was a role model but not a mentor – for me, albeit she has no doubt played that important role in the lives of many others. The point is there were very few, if any women more senior to me then. And more to the point, there are none now.
And now here we are, with me on the tail end of my 50s and where on earth do I turn for mentorship? Where do I go when I’m in trouble or struggling? And, in the back of my mind, I have to wonder, where will the next generations turn when they inevitably run out of senior mentors, many years before I did.
Because the women in criminal defence depart. They flee to the Crown’s office or the Judiciary.
I barely even have peers my age left in our bar. Sure, there are a handful of us left, but most of my friends are Judges or retired. As a result, I’ve been coveting the time I can spend with those retired friends, and any left standing in the practising bar. And these important moments mean a great deal to me. Because our interactions with our own career mentors are special. We feel honoured to be in their presence, comforted by their wise counsel and gratified by their pride in us, their words of encouragement and acknowledging our accomplishments. Our women mentors are different from the men. Unpacking that though is for another day.
These days I am mentor 99% of the time and mentee on those rare occasions when I can connect with a retired colleague, a judicial colleauge or one of the handful of women left in the profession at all, of the generation above me. I’m now the one to come to with problems, with ethical dilemmas, I’m expected to have all the answers. Sometimes I do, often I don’t……..but I can puzzle through most things now.
And don’t get me wrong, mentoring new lawyers, younger lawyers, boosting the next generation and watching them thrive as they are empowered, is a great highlight of my career and a particular joy. Nothing I am saying here is meant to take anything away from all of that, which enriches my life and rejuvenates and re-energizes me every day. It’s one reason I get up in the morning and do the work. And I stand in genuine awe of the self-assured, confidence exuding, boundary setting, truth to power speaking courage and fire of the young women lawyers of our bar, and members of beautiful WiCCD.
The thing that worries me is the ever thinning numbers of more senior counsel in defence. I have written extensively about all this and the reasons for the hemorrhaging. This is Part II of that series, you can search for the rest if you’re interested – there are three parts in total.
Recently, WiCCD sought some very limited funding to research and study the resilience factor that keeps the handful of us still standing in criminal defence. In other words, the flip side of what is more commonly understood now – why women leave. Unfortunately we did not receive the support.
What will happen to the women in the defence bar if everyone leaves? Where will they find their career mentors? How early will they lose us – the women of my generation as we become extinct and how early will the next cohort run for the exit – whether to the Crown or the Bench??
I don’t know but I’m still here — for now at least. Seeking my women mentors and seizing upon them whenever I can.
anitaszigeti 