On a sunny, cold and sparkling February day, twenty-three years ago, I stepped onto the stage at Roy Thompson Hall – and into my future as a criminal defence lawyer. It was a future that ten years before I could not have imagined, but life has a way of taking us to the places we need to be.

How I came to law as a mature student is a story for another time. But I was incredibly fortunate to be accepted into Osgoode Hall Law School. In Life Before Law School I had been deeply involved in community activism, speaking out for people in my community, and advocating for services for disadvantaged people. So perhaps it’s not surprising that in second year law school criminal law sidled up to me with the smile of a guileless child, and tapped me on the shoulder and said “you are mine!” And so I was, and so I am.

For me, life with criminal defence law is a love affair, a passion, a relationship with all the operatic ups and downs of the best stories. It has given me some of the highest highs, and the deepest depths. But there has never been a day when I have not been grateful for this incredible opportunity to be of service, to be a voice for people when they are voiceless.

In my 23 years of practice I have come to realize what most people really need from their lawyers. They need someone capable and competent in law – of course. But they also need us to bear witness to their journey through the legal system. They need us to sit with them and their families, as they navigate the uncharted and frightening waters of justice. They need us to acknowledge and respect their fears and their emotions; their needs and their hopes. They need us to advocate for them, fearlessly and fluently. And they need us to listen.

They need us to listen with all we have, to listen between the lines to the things they don’t know how to say, to the unexpressed emotions and unasked questions. They need us to listen with respect, and compassion and open mindedness. Only then can we really begin to advocate for them. As strange as it may seem, sometimes silence and stillness are the most effective strategies.

On February 25, I will be in Court, fighting on behalf of a client. And when my day is over I will raise a glass, give thanks for this love affair that burns brighter than ever, and rededicate myself to my clients.

Thanks for being with me on the ride!

Ruth Roberts