Bar Association?
(An intended translation of “Colegio de Abogades” by Hiram Sánchez Martínez)
Luz Ivette Rivera
A jurist, or attorney or… I do not know how to say it… came to see me yesterday. Oh well, yes: a lawyer came to see me yesterday. I would say that, on the outside, this person looked like any of us. Although a fellow lawyer, this person felt excluded from the sign that appears in the facade of our building: Bar Association of Male Lawyers and Female Lawyers. The person said: “It is not possible that with all the noise made by this country’s female colleagues the issue was settled by just adding to the Bar Association’s name a female – gendered word.”
Upon hearing these words, I sensed that my fellow lawyer was losing it. And I raised my guard. Accordingly, I grabbed a pencil and started turning it between my fingers.
“As a member of the bar, I want you to represent me, to bring a lawsuit against the president and the Board of Governors of the Bar Association of Male Lawyers and Female Lawyers.” I kept turning the pencil while looking at the person with a face of disbelief -which is a type of face that has lately become fashionable (that is why I have in the closet various types to choose from)- and I listened to this person with the same degree of attention used by a priest to hear the confession of a die-hard sinner.
And what are we alleging? I asked. “That “Male Lawyers and Female Lawyers” do not cover all the gender possibilities, counselor. Don’t you see it this way? I am not masculine, nor feminine, but just the opposite. If this bar association is only for male and female lawyers, then I have been excluded, and I want to be included, dammit!”
I did not know how to reply. And what do you propose? -came to my mind- If it is not Bar Association of Male Lawyers and Female Lawyers, what would it be?
Looking at me in disbelief the person almost shouted: “Bar Association, dammit! What else, if not?”
Since the person was a little inflamed, I tried to provide reassurance. “Let’s do something -I said- before thinking of bringing in the courts, give me the chance to talk to the president because he was elected just to handle this kind of things.”
“Ha! The reply will be that us lawyers are not children; that we must conform to the state of things; that, in order to change that, we must make a little bit of more noise because the politicians are sensitive to that.”
For fear of lack of knowledge of what the president would reply -since I am not a clairvoyant- I gave up from going to see him. In turn, I am standing before my closet, rummaging between the different faces hanging there for situations just as this one and deciding which one to wear to break the news to my client that I am not interested in handling the case, but that I have a cousin -well, a cousin twice – removed, I think- that used to be a judge and has always liked lost causes.
Note from the translator: Is it really a lost cause? Should we keep making up excuses while wearing masks to cover our true feelings? Or should we, instead, address as jurists and promoters of change this very serious matter and do what we do best: strive for inclusive and fair language, institutions, and attitudes. Jurists do justice!
