Many of my best friends are lawyers – surprise. When we get together with our spouses, often the conversation drifts to law talk. If the conversation wanders too far afield, our partners might either feign interest or roll their eyes. One friend’s husband once pulled out his phone and said, “Let me know when you’re done talking about lawyer shit.”
So, we try not to talk shop too much at dinner parties and happy hours. However, we recognized that we all had a desire for an informal social outlet where we felt comfortable discussing legal matters without burdening our wives and husbands, so we established a tradition called “Lawyer Shit Lunch” or L.S.L. for short.
L.S.L. is often, but not always, on a Friday afternoon, usually starting at 2 P.M. — after the lunch crowd has filtered out of our favorite restaurant patio. You are allowed to be late to L.S.L., and you can take client calls unapologetically. Most importantly, you can talk shop as much as you want.
Our core L.S.L. crew includes a family law attorney, a criminal defense lawyer, and myself, a civil plaintiff’s litigation consultant. Occasionally, we are joined by other lawyers, paralegals, and consulting experts. It’s nice to be able to workshop a litigation theme or theory with professionals from a different practice area or point of view. This aligns with the cross-disciplinary approach we promote with Advocate Craft.
Lawyers, paralegals, and consulting experts have, for the most part, all seen some shocking and traumatic things. A lawyer friend, Karen Barth Menzies, recently taught me about the term “secondary trauma” (we talk about it on an Advocate Craft podcast). It’s the psychological impact of vicariously experiencing the trauma of another. If we care about the people we serve, then repeated exposure to their pain can create compassion fatigue.
If you don’t talk about this vicarious trauma from time to time, it can build up and manifest in unhealthy ways. To address secondary trauma, you can talk to a psychiatrist … or you can have an L.S.L. with colleagues who understand and won’t cringe at your description of a car filled with blood spray, burn injuries, or gunshot wounds.
L.S.L. is also great for networking. You might pick up insights about a judge you’ve never appeared before. You might receive a lead for a reputable consulting expert, or a tip about relevant case law. It provides an opportunity to maintain your referral sources.
Conferences, Bar events, Inns of Court, and CLEs offer similar benefits, but there's a unique comfort in a relaxed afternoon spent enjoying your preferred beverage, grazing on snacks with friends, and dishing about the intricacies of legal topics that are either inappropriate for casual company or too boring for laypeople.
If “L.S.L” seems too colloquial – or too frivolous for serious consideration – then I encourage you to call it a “Mastermind Luncheon” and schedule one regardless. You likely have an event similar to L.S.L. in your life already, but assigning it a name and recognizing the value of gathering legal minds from different disciplines illuminates its value. Or call it therapy. You’ll be glad to have unloaded some of the trauma of practicing this challenging profession of advocacy.