The obligatory LinkedIn Preamble:

Today, as I have done every year for five years running now, I attended the Law Society of Ontario‘s Mental Health Summit, pioneered and co-Chaired by my cherished colleague Beth Beattie and former Treasurer @Teresa Donnelly. Both not only deserve a medal, but recently won a medal – the Orlando Da Silva, LSM prize of the Ontario Bar Association – for hosting these events. Beth has also co-authored the innovative book “The Right Not to Remain Silent” through LexisNexis Canada which is imperative reading. I have all the respect in the world for Former Treasurer Donnelly, as she treated my organizations with respect and is barely mentioned at all in the O’Connor Report, both things to her credit.

And today’s event had all good speakers, even some great speakers. As with past events during which we heard moving addresses from the likes of Chief Justice George Strathy, we heard from Justice Fred Myers with great eloquence, and my friend John McIntyre spoke with his customary good humour and courage in ways one never feels is time wasted to listen to. Lots of interesting perspectives.

With that all said, today’s event helped some of us identify a gap in the conversation about mental health in the profession, one that I have noted as glaring in the National Studies on Mental Health in the Legal Profession as well.

I plan to write about this at greater length elsewhere, but suffice it to say for now that disclosing your mental health struggles when you’re not a prominent, established member of the legal community, comes with different challenges. I have a formal diagnosis of something for example that I have lived with for almost 35 years now, which comes with a very difficult back story – and despite all my candour and prolific writing in this space, bet you don’t know what it is.

There is a lot more to discuss. I have said some of it elsewhere. But as you’ll see, all roads do lead to Rome at the minute, so I have managed to tie this conversation into the recent LSO CEOSS and poor old Diana Miles, whose name is suddenly a household one, and not in a good way, among our 71 thousand Ontario legal professionals at the minute.

TODAY’S BLOG ENTRY FOLLOWING MY ATTENDANCE AT THE MENTAL HEALTH SUMMIT HOSTED BY THE LAW SOCIETY

When our Law Society Speaks about Lawyer and Paralegal Mental Health at the Moment, it must acknowledge its own role in causing us stress and anxiety and its failure to assist the most vulnerable among the legal professionals it governs.

Not only has the recent CEOSS left licensees hurt, disappointed, angry, and in some cases in tears, when we learned of the behind the scenes manipulations that led to giving a staff member a million bucks to compensate her for the “stress” of her executive position within our governing body, but the LSO has also recently proposed to publicize any charges we may face, things about which we have never been convicted. That kind of threat has of course disproportionate impact on over-policed legal professionals and those most vulnerable for a host of other reasons.

This is a moment in time when the Law Society would do well to be exquisitely mindful to include the voices and concerns of the little guy and gal – those of us in solo or small firms, working on legal aid retainers to support vulnerable clients, charged with criminal offences or in acute mental health crises.

At this juncture, the LSO would do well and should strive to do all it can to avoid being seen as out of touch with the lived reality of those of us struggling mightily in the trenches day in and day out.

Today’s LSO Mental Health Summit was well worth the price of admission (FREE) for 4 hrs of EDI CPD accreditation it gave itself. But the advice imparted by the Judges and Crowns and Big Law practitioners or those who represent corporate or other monied interests, while no doubt relevant for all those who work within those structures, had little to no immediate application to my life or that of my colleagues in my bars.

We have none of the luxuries available to these other parts of the justice system. We can’t work 40 hr work weeks, we don’t have access to pensions or disability benefits, we can’t draw boundaries like turning off our phones after hours – when we represent people subject to detention on legal aid tickets.

But at least we suffer manifold the crushing volume of vicarious trauma, while labouring under financial insecurity, insecurity about our future careers, no parental leave supports and exhaustion to the bone.

A lot of good came out of today’s conference nonetheless, particularly in the chat where rumblings of wanting to be heard and seen led to a nascent plan to put on a conference exclusively geared to our unique situation and needs. I will look forward to participating in that event, if it pulls together.

In the meanwhile, here are some of my earlier blog entries about this issue and the work we’ve done through LAMDA and WiCCD on it already.