waterfall 9.19

i'm a lawyer now. i have started working at a housing non profit in a middle size city. the work is heavy. i feel heavier every day. hearing the clients' stories makes me feel like i am standing in a waterfall, and instead of letting all the water pass perfectly around me and preserving myself, i'm letting little bits of their emotional torrent into myself. it permeates my psyche like parasites chewing through tissue. the emotion reverberates within me for hours after calls.

"hello, I am a lawyer. I heard you got an eviction notice. all I can do is talk to you for a half-hour."
"hello, it's nice to speak with you. oh lord." i hear shouting on the other line. a man's voice. "where's the fucking rent?" the man then begins wailing. "may I call you back in 10 minutes?"
"yes," *click*
fifteen minutes later, the client calls back. "well about the notice, last year I died for a little while." her voice shakes. "since then I've had quite a few medical problems." i listen to the story. i hear 8 stories a week. soon i will hear more than that. my coworkers tell me what they hear.
"i agree, it's important to have faith. i cannot guarantee anything, but I will write a letter to the landlord."
she avoids saying the word, eviction, the whole call.



my coworkers tell me their stories. all the cases i read are someone's story, something they cried over to a stone faced attorney who then said I can write a letter about that, and then we developed a fancy procedure to fight using letters, and now we use that process to determine who had a bad enough childhood that they should avoid the death penalty and argue about whether an offer is deemed received before or after the offeree actually receives it.

we all watch the docket like a fireside chat. we hear stories like we're looking at skeletons cleaned with bugs.
we laugh when a client has sex in the background of the zoom court call.

"i was abused by that man and he trapped me at home so I could not work."
"That is not a defense to eviction. A writ will be issued and possession restored to the landlord."
opposing counsel says, "thank you, your honor. it has been a pleasure administrating justice with you."
providing justice. giving justice as a ritual. if the landlord follows the correct steps, an abuse survivor losing her housing creates justice.

her sobs wash over the courtroom floor. i hope that man drowns in them someday.