As I begin the expected formalities, I find the rituals restore a sense of confidence. Echoed on marble and mahogany, my voice comes back strong, clear and just genteel enough. I'm ready to confront the issues. I explain about invisible disabilities. I review the evidence.
Formality gives way to folksiness.
One by one, the faces show understanding, acceptance. As I thank them for their attention, I'm conscious of 12 faces looking at nothing but me. A different kind of lawyer. I turn back to the plaintiff's table and I know those two dozen eyes are watching the arc I make, like a skater, as my tires etch the plush carpeting. For a moment, I wish appearances didn't matter.