Douglas A. Copeland
Copeland Thompson Farris, P.C.
Clayton

Near the end of August, a wonderful actor by the name of Brock Peters passed away at the age of 78. He performed both on the Broadway stage and in films, and was also a singer and producer. Even with such a versatile career, when I heard of his death my thoughts went immediately to his role as a wrongly accused defendant in the classic film version of Harper Lee's "To Kill a Mockingbird," which was released in 1962. While I am not generally a fan of "classic" films as a genre, this is definitely one of my favorite movies.

For those of you who refuse to watch a film that was produced before you were born, let me give you the basics. The story is told from the perspective of a 6-year-old tomboy girl named Scout, whose father, Atticus Finch (played by Gregory Peck), is an attorney in a small Southern town in the 1930s. In the racially charged South that existed at that time, Brock Peters' character Tom Robinson, an African-American, was wrongly accused of attacking a young white woman, and the local judge asked Scout's father to defend Tom at trial. Perhaps the enduring power of the film for me is that it was told from the perspective of a young girl who was naïve in so many ways, yet at times had remarkable insight.

While the film contained many remarkable and poignant scenes, there is one that stands out from all the rest for me. At the conclusion of the trial, the all-white male jury convicts Tom of the charges, even though Atticus has clearly proven that Tom could not have inflicted the injuries the young woman sustained; instead, it was her father who beat her for her inappropriate advances toward Tom. The scene comes as a dejected Atticus gathers his files and begins to leave a nearly empty courtroom - nearly empty, that is, except for Tom's friends, family and community packed into the balcony overlooking the courtroom. Not a one of them has left. They remain in silence.

Scout is there too, lying on the floor looking through the banister at her father and the scene below. As Atticus prepares to leave the courtroom, the members of the African-American community in the courtroom balcony stand one by one, but Scout remains lying on the floor. Seeing Scout lying there, Tom's pastor, who is standing over her, bends down and in a firm but gentle voice says, "Stand up, your father is passing." Even though the enormity of what her father had done in defending Tom so forcefully and faithfully was mainly lost on Scout, the African-American community fully appreciated Atticus' personal risk and sacrifice in doing so.

While the criminal justice system of that time and place failed - Atticus was hopeful that an appeal would prevail - and while our justice system today is not without flaw, it was the nobility of that scene from "To Kill a Mockingbird" that played a significant part in my desire to become a lawyer. It was the thing I saw in my father, my uncle and other mentor attorneys with whom I have practiced and whom I have observed over the years. While the system may sometimes fail, we as individual lawyers can succeed and serve as a beacon for justice and that nobility shown through Atticus Finch. We each have it within us to do that, and whether we succeed or fail is determined by the decisions we make.

I can assure you that as each new bar president prepares for his or her "year," they ponder what they can do, what difference they can make, and how they can improve the bar or the administration of justice. Inevitably, their thoughts wander to the topic of the image of attorneys or the reality of their conduct. I am convinced that there is no committee, commission or task force on professionalism that can be assembled, or rule or code that can be created or changed, that will dramatically improve the image or conduct of attorneys. You simply cannot legislate nobility, integrity or professionalism. Is the answer, then, to turn our attention elsewhere and concede to what I see as the decline of our "profession"? I say no, that there is a means to effect change, but it is not going to be accomplished by me alone or by the state and local bar associations.

It is up to you - each of you. How, you ask? It really is quite simple. You have a choice to make. How are you going to conduct yourself - in the courtroom, with other attorneys, with your clients? Are you going to be obnoxious, untrustworthy and unprepared, or are you going to be courteous, honest and prepared? Are you going to be willing to help a worthy cause and do pro bono work, or are you always going to consider the bottom line and the fees your work can generate? Are you going to encourage and mentor young lawyers in and out of your firm as to how the practice of law can be conducted with these positive attributes and still be rewarding personally and financially, or are you simply going to set expectations of billable hours and favorable results, regardless of the means or tactics employed?

It's up to you - so what's it going to be? Will lawyers who come after you remember your example and guidance as the stuff that Atticus Finch exuded from the screen? Will someone remind your child to stand up because you are passing by? The choice is yours, and like it or not, you make it one way or the other every day you practice law.