Am I My Brother’s Keeper?

What It Means to Show Up for One Another 

in the Legal Profession

The legal profession teaches us to advocate, counsel, 

negotiate, and fight. We are trained to identify problems 

and develop solutions. Yet we are not always as 

intentional about recognizing when one of our own is 

struggling.

Being our brother’s and sister’s keeper means more than 

exchanging professional courtesies. It means paying 

attention. It means checking on one another—not merely 

asking, “How are you?” in passing, but creating enough 

space to hear the honest answer.

I learned the importance of this during one of the most 

difficult periods of my life.

When I lost my sight, I also found myself battling 

depression, fear, and overwhelming anxiety. I was 

encouraged to “fake it til i make it”. So that is what I did

—until I could not do it anymore.

I continued working. I kept showing up. I put on a face 

that made it appear as though I was okay. Although 

people knew about my medical condition and the 

challenges with my vision, many assumed I was handling 

it well.

I was not.

Silence, Stigma, and Professional 

Responsibility

There is tremendous pressure in the legal profession to 

appear capable at all times. We are taught that 

vulnerability may be interpreted as weakness and that 

disclosing a health challenge could cause clients, judges, 

colleagues, or employers to question our abilities.

But remaining silent is not always an act of strength. 

When a lawyer’s health begins to affect the lawyer’s 

practice, the issue is no longer limited to personal privacy. 

It can also implicate the lawyer’s professional 

responsibilities.

Indiana Rule of Professional Conduct 1.16(a)(2) provides 

that a lawyer must not represent a client—or must 

withdraw from an existing representation—when the 

lawyer’s physical or mental condition materially impairs 

the lawyer’s ability to represent that client. Rule 1.1 

requires competent representation, Rule 1.3 requires 

reasonable diligence and promptness, and Rule 1.4 

requires attorneys to keep clients reasonably informed and 

provide sufficient information for clients to make 

informed decisions about their representation.

These rules do not mean that attorneys must publicly 

reveal every diagnosis or disclose every private detail of a 

medical condition. They do mean that we cannot conceal 

the effects of a condition when those effects materially 

interfere with our ability to serve our clients.

If our health affects deadlines, court appearances, 

communication, preparation, judgment, or our ability to 

continue a representation, we have a professional 

responsibility to address those limitations. Depending 

upon the circumstances, that may require communicating 

with the client, requesting an accommodation or 

continuance, associating another attorney, reducing a 

caseload, transferring responsibility, or withdrawing from 

the representation.

Professional responsibility is not about punishing 

attorneys for becoming sick. Illness is not misconduct, 

and disability is not incompetence. The ethical concern 

arises when fear, pride, or stigma causes us to ignore an 

impairment and leaves a client’s interests unprotected.

Looking back, I understand why people advised me to 

remain silent. They may have believed they were 

protecting me and my professional reputation. But “act as 

if you can” is dangerous advice when an attorney is 

struggling physically or emotionally. Pretending does not 

eliminate the condition. It merely isolates the person 

experiencing it and may prevent that person from 

obtaining the support, accommodations, and safeguards 

needed to continue practicing responsibly.

There is a meaningful difference between saying, “I have 

a health condition,” and saying, “My health is affecting 

my ability to meet this obligation, and I need to take 

appropriate action.”

The second statement is not weakness. It is honesty, 

accountability, and professional responsibility.

When I Could No Longer Pretend

The fear and anxiety surrounding my loss of sight were 

paralyzing. I was grieving the life and independence I had 

known while trying to convince everyone—including 

myself—that I remained completely in control. Behind 

the professional appearance was a woman struggling to 

process a life-changing reality.

Then, one Sunday morning at 8:00 a.m., the weight of 

everything became too much. I could no longer pretend. I 

could no longer carry the pain by myself.

Hysterically, I called a friend.

That friend did not offer empty words or tell me to be 

strong. My friend came immediately, found me on the 

floor, picked me up, and dried my tears. In that moment, I 

did not need a legal argument, a motivational speech, or 

advice about protecting my professional image.

I needed someone to be present.

That experience taught me that strength does not always 

look like standing tall. Sometimes strength is admitting 

that you have fallen. Sometimes it is making the call. 

Sometimes it is allowing another person to help carry 

what has become too heavy for you to bear alone.

It also reminded me that appearances can be dangerously 

misleading. Attorneys are skilled at presenting confidence 

even when we are uncertain, exhausted, frightened, or 

hurting. We advocate for clients while quietly struggling 

with our own grief, health problems, family pressures, 

financial concerns, burnout, anxiety, or depression.

A person can be successful and still be suffering.

A person can be smiling and still need help.

A person can appear strong and still need someone to sit 

beside them on the floor.

When You Feel Like You Cannot Talk

Sometimes the hardest part of asking for help is deciding 

whom you can trust. Attorneys may fear judgment, 

damage to their reputations, professional consequences, or 

the possibility that their private struggles will become 

public.

The Indiana Judges and Lawyers Assistance Program—

commonly known as JLAP—exists for those moments.

JLAP provides confidential and compassionate assistance 

to Indiana judges, lawyers, and law students experiencing 

depression, anxiety, grief, overwhelming stress, 

substance-use concerns, physical or mental-health 

conditions, and other challenges that may interfere with 

their personal well-being or professional responsibilities. 

Its services are free, and its purpose is support—not 

punishment or discipline.

Indiana Admission and Discipline Rule 31 protects the 

confidentiality of information obtained by JLAP. A judge, 

lawyer, or law student may contact JLAP directly for 

assistance. A concerned colleague, friend, or family 

member may also make a third-party referral when 

someone appears to be struggling but cannot—or will not

—make the call alone.

Indiana Judges and Lawyers Assistance Program

Phone: 317-833-0370

Toll-free: 866-428-JLAP (5527)

Address: 201 N. Illinois Street, Suite 950, Indianapolis, 

Indiana 46204

Executive Director: Ashley Hart, J.D., L.S.W., Certified 

Grief Educator

Here in our local legal community, Judge Gina Jones 

serves as a JLAP liaison. Having a trusted local member 

of the bench involved with the program provides another 

bridge to help for attorneys who may not know where to 

begin.

You do not have to wait until your practice, health, family, 

or life is falling apart. You do not need to have the perfect 

words. You can simply say:

“I am not okay, and I do not know what to do next.”

That is enough to begin.

If you are concerned about a colleague, you do not have 

to diagnose the problem or solve it yourself. You can 

check on that person, listen without judgment, encourage 

a call to JLAP, or make a confidential referral.

Sometimes being your brother’s keeper means making the 

call when your brother or sister cannot.

We Must Be Present for One Another

Being our brother’s keeper in the legal profession requires 

action. Do not assume that a colleague is okay simply 

because they arrived at court, met a deadline, tried a case, 

or smiled when you saw them.

Check on them.

Call them.

Invite them to lunch.

Ask the question again—and remain long enough to hear 

the honest answer.

The James C. Kimbrough Bar Association is more 

powerful when we have one another’s backs. We may be 

a small community of attorneys, but our combined 

intelligence, experience, relationships, and resources are 

extraordinary. Together, we possess the ability to 

transform the legal profession and change our 

communities.

But before we can change the world, we must be present 

for one another.

Mentor a new attorney of color who is trying to find a 

place in the profession. Share your knowledge instead of 

guarding it. Make introductions. Offer guidance after a 

difficult hearing. Recommend a colleague for an 

opportunity. Celebrate their accomplishments. Reach out 

when they become unusually quiet or withdrawn.

When someone tells you that they are struggling, do not 

minimize their experience or focus first on how the 

disclosure might affect their professional image.

Listen.

Support them.

Help them protect their clients while also protecting 

themselves.

Help them connect with JLAP and other appropriate 

medical, mental-health, professional, and practicemanagement resources.

Then check on them again.

Supporting an impaired or overwhelmed colleague does 

not mean covering up missed obligations or allowing 

clients to be placed at risk. True support means helping 

that lawyer recognize the problem and take responsible 

action before the situation becomes a professional crisis.

It means creating a community where asking for 

assistance is treated as sound judgment—not as an 

admission that someone does not belong in the profession.

We cannot continue discussing isolation, burnout, 

depression, inequity, and the lack of mentorship in our 

profession without accepting personal responsibility for 

creating change. It is not enough to identify these 

problems at meetings, conferences, or networking events.

We must become the solution.

Being our brother’s keeper does not mean that we are 

responsible for fixing every problem. It means we refuse 

to let one another suffer unseen. It means understanding 

that compassion is not weakness and vulnerability is not 

incompetence. It means recognizing that sometimes the 

most meaningful act of leadership is simply showing up 

when someone needs you.

I will never forget the friend who answered my call that 

Sunday morning. That act of love and presence reminded 

me that I did not have to face the darkness alone.

Let us build that kind of legal community—a community 

in which no attorney feels compelled to suffer silently to 

appear capable; where asking for help is met with 

compassion rather than judgment; where professional 

responsibility and personal wellness are understood as 

partners rather than opposites; and where we recognize 

that our greatest strength is not found in what we 

accomplish individually, but in how faithfully we stand 

together.

Check on your colleague.

Mentor the new attorney.

Share your resources.

Make the call.

Show up.

Do not merely talk about the problem.

Be the solution