“For Something Better”
“Wow.” I blurted, genuinely surprised by the cheerful energy on the other end of the phone. The vibrant greeting threw me off. “You seem different from our last conversation.” I asked curiously, “I'm happy for you, but what changed?”
The energy was a stark contrast to the heavy weight of our last conversation. She had called to confirm that I’d be at her final hearing.
This was a pro bono fight – a malpractice case against a criminal defense attorney. She’d entrusted the attorney with tens of thousands of dollars only to feel abandoned. Calls went unanswered, evidence and witnesses disregarded. The case was lost, and the experience left her feeling exploited, both emotionally and financially.
Unfortunately, her story wasn’t unique or unfamiliar. I knew the vulnerability all too well – the inability to speak English, coupled with a lack of understanding of a complex, foreign legal system – it made her easy prey.
“It was you, Nimsy! Your words.” She said, her voice full of gratitude.
Our last call, with a mediator, went on for hours. She was interrupted by her own tears and frustrated outbursts. The longer I interpreted, the more I could hear the pain, until I could feel her anguish as she continued to feel unheard.
The mediator just wanted to get off the phone. The case wasn’t strong. The evidence was shaky.
I felt compelled to help. This case wasn’t about winning but giving her a voice. It matters that she felt wronged by her attorney. It was unjust to be ignored by the lawyer that she entrusted with her case. Regardless of the case’s merits, the legal system could only be improved by acknowledging the vulnerability of clients and prioritizing their experiences.
But, given my role as the interpreter, I couldn’t legally represent her. I was conflicted out. So, I gave her a general overview of the mediation process, “prepare a detailed affidavit of your version of events, collect all evidence – receipts, emails, call logs - anything to support your story...”
Ultimately, it was her word against the attorney’s.
I knew she was hurting but I had to be honest. “Don’t apologize for crying, being angry or frustrated. You are valid to feel what you feel and if, at the final hearing, the outcome isn’t what you hoped for, don’t be ashamed to feel those feelings again. But know this – based on my experience, a person’s misdeeds eventually lead to their undoing, just as a person’s good deeds often lead to rewards.”
“And on that day, remember that you did your best. You are acting with courage, standing up for yourself. Don’t lose faith in justice. Cling to your self-conviction. It will see you through.”
I was quiet, as she recalled our last conversation, my words echoing even louder than before, “Sometimes things don’t go our way, but we can’t let that destroy us. Losing or having been taken advantage of – that doesn’t define you. You stood up for yourself, made a sincere attempt to improve the system, and now, have the power to help others similarly situated.”
She continued to tell me that she started to pray for me daily. She shared the story with her church, and they prayed for me too. They were praying for more advocates, who sincerely cared about empowering others and enriching our communities.
How humbling. Regardless of your religious beliefs, it’s truly incredible to have someone invest their time and energy to wish the very best for you, from their core beliefs.
Despite the frustrating limitations of my role as interpreter, witnessing this transformation was incredibly rewarding. I was proud to have inspired her newfound determination, which replaced her initial fear and vulnerability.
This experience served as a powerful reminder that even in a limited role, making a positive difference is always possible. It’s important to do your best, whenever you can and in whatever role you serve.
"Por algo mejor, Nimsy. Thank you for reminding me of that. Thank you.”
The call ended with a click shortly after. But the words chimed on - a friendly reminder of a brighter future waiting to be answered.
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