The past year was the most difficult I’ve had since becoming a lawyer. I’ve never worked such long hours or so hard. The work I did challenged my conceptions of the law and what my job is: but because of that, it’s also been exceptionally rewarding. It’s provided greater clarity.

I’ve come to view the law as a public space. A space that exists in the public realm that encompasses us all and that we must engage with, but hasn’t been designed with all of us in mind. Because of that, and other structural features, it isn’t accessible to all

My job is one of translation and navigation. Translating the law to my clients' lived reality, and transforming their experience back into the law. Then, navigating the law and system towards their particular objective. I help facilitate access to this public space

But, it’s not my lived reality. And this is critical: lawyers work in tandem with our clients, we amplify, clarify, and explain their lived experience into the law. We work together as a team. For that to be effective, there must trust, accessibility, and understanding

That’s true for any type of law that is practiced, but especially true when you of public interest law or are involved in community lawyering. As a lawyer in those contexts, you’re only as good as your ability to connect and understand with those you serve.

I also strongly believe that the only way we can make the law — as a public space — more accessible is if more lawyers start practicing with the communities who’ve been excluded from it. That includes racial and ethnic communities, but also prisoners or the street involved.

When we talk about diversity in the profession we tend to focus on ensuring folks coming from diverse cultural background to ensure their communities can be served. I would go further and stress the need for empathetic, inclusive, and broad community-minded lawyering.

My community encompasses more than just people who look like me or who had similar journeys. It includes folks who I cannot fully place myself into their shoes. But, once I try to understand their experiences, to see life through their lens, I am more inclined and able to help

Because, at the end of the day, at its core, if we strip away all the noise, our job as lawyers is one of public service. And we aren’t fulfilling the duty we owe to our neighbours, community if we aren’t serving everyone, specifically those excluded from the space

For many of you, this may all be a given. But, for me to things really crystallized.

My purpose as a lawyer is to make that public space of the law more reflective and accessible to those within my community whose experiences are disregarded or neglected.

I would not have realized that without working with some incredible clients this year, many who have become family and friends. People who are experts in their lived experiences, and trusted me to let me in to tell their stories in the law

Obviously, that includes working with these resilient families, who inspired, drove me to be a better lawyer and person. There are many aspects about this case that I can't share right now but trust me, it was special and still can't believe we got it done https://twitter.com/avnishnanda/status/1287933972119302144?s=20

Then there were the young women who I met and am working with on the SFA challenge. Their courage, resilience in what they've endured throughout their lives and now with the province's cuts jolted to trying to find a way to help. A question of morality more than anything

We knew it would be difficult. That the odds and precedence were stacked against our position. But, there was far too much that was on the line. We had to give it a shot because there were no other options

And, in the end, we may have managed to shape the Charter in a manner that better reflects AC and the stories of other vulnerable youth who've aged out of government care. That's not for certain given the pending appeal but it's worth celebrating now https://twitter.com/avnishnanda/status/1254452076202954752?s=20

Finally, the iOAT patients. A diverse range of folks who have long been marginalized within our society, and who're fighting for the right to continue to live. I started this case by heading down to Calgary, meeting patients where they were at, seeing a different side of the city

I remember the last patient I met on that visit. He was my age, a few feet taller than me, and incredibly warm and inviting. Making small talk with me as we found a place to sit and chat, trying to put me at ease

He had a $900/day opioid habit, which stemmed from a sports injury when he was a teenager that was improperly managed by his doctor through endless access to fentanyl. He went from an internationally ranked athlete to living on streets of Calgary with severe opioid use disorder

He had witnessed so many of his friends die in front of him of opioid overdoses. He himself had nearly died numerous times. He tried to take his own life because of what he was experiencing. The daily violence and uncertainty. The things he was forced to do to buy opioids.

Everything changed after iOAT. He was no longer on the streets. His opioid use disorder was managed. He looked like your typical 31 year old man in the Beltline, thinking he was an engineer or banker. Tall, lean, well-dressed, he was just trying online dating, hopeful of future

When he described all that he stood to lose by the closure of iOAT, it broke me. He described what he had escaped through the treatment as a sort of hell that he wouldn't wish on his worst enemy. And, being pushed back into it terrified him. It robbed him of everything.

That meeting really changed me. Perhaps because I saw some of myself in him, or that the experience he recounted awoke something in me. Here is his story https://www.cbc.ca/listen/live-radio/1-52-radio-active/clip/15802324-patients-sue-keep-treatment-program?share=true

Here are the stories of other iOAT patients https://twitter.com/i/status/1319779450553204736

A few longer testimonies of the importance of iOAT https://twitter.com/i/status/1314298946722947072