In 2020, a national survey of asylum lawyers found that their rates of burnout and secondary stress were much higher than those of any other professionals previously surveyed - including immigration judges, social workers, hospital doctors, nurses, and prison wardens. The difference may be the brokenness of the system itself: Respondents consistently said that the toll wasn’t just from working with people who had experienced trauma, but from being forced to work in an immigration system that was dysfunctional and constantly changing according to the politics of the existing administration.

Why Be an Immigration Lawyer?

There a plenty of good reasons not to be a humanitarian immigration lawyer. I’ve experienced many of them, even in the somewhat more comfortable position of directing an immigration clinic, which affords some things like support staff and community that many asylum lawyers lack. And I would never tell an attorney or law student that they should ignore the signs of burnout or secondary trauma. Self-care, which sometimes includes leaving the practice area, is essential.

But speaking for myself, so far I feel compelled to stay. As well as I can explain it, here is why.

A cure for monkey mind

The immigration system is ridiculously complex. Every case is like navigating three or four mazes at once, which can be maddening.

On the other hand, for me, the complexity of immigration law is a source of reward as well as of frustration. I went to law school in part because I have a brain that likes to solve logic puzzles. The immigration legal system, it turns out, is the mother of all logic puzzles.

And it is a puzzle you can continuously improve at solving. Like all long games, you never “finish” solving it, but you can get better and better at it.

Left unattended, my monkey mind can become my greatest enemy. Grappling with the puzzles in our clients’ cases directs that mental energy into something constructive.

If Not Me, Then Who?

The immigration legal system is illogical, chaotic, constantly changing, and inequitably administered. The stress is real. And I’m not perfect - in a system like this, I will make mistakes sometimes.

But the need is compelling. Clients’ fates get decided in this system all the time, and there’s no right to have a lawyer provided for you. The majority of immigrants end up having to represent themselves in this crazy system.

I am far from perfect as an immigration lawyer. But one thing that would definitely be worse than having an imperfect immigration lawyer is having no immigration lawyer. And that - not some hypothetical perfect immigration lawyer - is the realistic alternative for most people.

Jesus In His most Distressing Disguise

Also, on this Sunday morning, I reflect that faith is, for me, the deepest reason to stay.

Honestly, I am not a “good” Christian. I know people who have an unshakable certainty in what they believe, or at least a bedrock commitment to surrender to the tenets of their faith. I envy them. My mind questions everything, all the time, including the tenets of the Catholic faith I was raised in.

Yet there is something beyond tradition or social identity that holds me there, always has. It’s not a rational process. Just as I didn’t choose to be heterosexual, I also didn’t choose to be a Christian. I just know that I am.

When I see the tremendous suffering that most of our clients have to endure in our immigration system, I remember what Saint Theresa of Calcutta often said when asked why she helped the poorest of the poor. She would reply that, in the poor, she saw “Jesus in his most distressing disguise.”

She would point to Matthew 25:40: “The King will reply, ‘Truly I tell you, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me.’”

Once, a visitor said to her, “Mother, why do you do this? I would not do all this for a million dollars!” She replied, “I too would not do it for a million dollars. I do it for the love of Jesus.”

Reasons to Stay

There are many reasons to leave immigration law practice. If a survey focuses on burnout and secondary trauma, I have no doubt it will find plenty. And I would never criticize anyone who decides not to be an immigration lawyer, including people of Christian faith. As Paul said, the body of Christ has many parts, and each serves in its own way. (1 Corinthians 12:12-31.)

But as long as Jesus comes in the distressing disguise of the migrant, He calls some of us to help Him. For now, at least, I hear that call.

I would not be an asylum lawyer for a million dollars. But I will do it for the love of Jesus.