By Hillary Buzaid
From my side of the desk, I sit facing another individual, or maybe a couple, a parent and their child, a parent and their children, parents and their children, a parent and their adult child, friends.
From my side of the desk, I ask “So how can I help you today?” but most frequently it’s “Cómo le puedo ayudar?”
From my side of the desk, I pull up information about a returning client to prepare myself for what type of case I may be discussing with them. However, I know that nothing can completely prepare me for what clients could be bringing into our appointments.
From my side of the desk, I jot down notes about the client sitting across from me while the post-its lining my desk are brushing against my arms as if reminding me about the other cases I am tending to.
From my side of the desk, I see blank stares from my clients when I mispronounce a word in Spanish or use the wrong word.
From my side of the desk, I have learned how to be a patient listener.
From my side of the desk, I hear certain issues that come up more frequently than others, but what might be my 20th time listening to this type of situation could be my client’s first time ever speaking of it to someone else.
From my side of the desk, I see resilience and love, other times pain and desperation. It is possible to see all of this at once though.
From my side of the desk, I try to hold back the tears for those who let their tears fall in front of me.
From my side of the desk, I feel resentment toward our system that has brought my client to such distress.
From my side of the desk, I see clients fiddling with my stack of business cards. There are moments when that stack suddenly turns into a prop for my client to explain an exchange, something that happened to them, or a hypothetical situation. Other times, they are nervously tidying the pile to line up on the edges rather than look at me in the eyes.
From my side of the desk, I see the walls break down.
From my side of the desk, I see God in the faces of my clients.
From my side of the desk, I have learned what unconditional love is.
From my side of the desk, I do my best to make my clients smile or laugh- but if I sense that it is not the right moment, I try to reassure them that I am here for them and that they are my priority. Because that’s the truth.
From my side of the desk, I have wondered what my clients think of me. Do they trust me? Do they think I am a child? Am I giving them hope?
From my side of the desk, I try to imagine the places that my clients are reminiscing about when they share memories of home, of their families, of their journeys.
From my side of the desk, I feel my clients’ eyes on me as I begin dialing on the phone or typing on the computer- searching for options to bring us closer to a solution.
From my side of the desk, I want to be that person that listens to those who are not listened to. I want to understand those who most do not understand.
From my side of the desk, I am grateful for my clients’ patience with me.
From my side of the desk, I hope that our physical separation by this desk does not inhibit my client from understanding that I see us as equals, serving one another.
From my side of the desk, I am comforted by the fact that a majority of the time, I get to sit beside my client on public transit, in the courtroom, in the waiting room, at the clinic, in the police station.
Whether it is from my side of the desk or walking by the side of my client, I know I am where I am meant to be.
