Jennifer Cronenberg, NOSSCR Chief Counsel for Legal Education & Disability Law

As I sit here in my Christmas sweater, fully ready for the season of cookies and cheer, I feel inclined to pause the carols, at least for a moment, to reflect on the importance of thankfulness.

There’s much to be thankful for in our profession. The luck of a good ALJ draw—a client who is capable of (succinctly) providing the needed facts for their case—our own good health—a colleague who brightens our day and shares ideas—a mentor who provides honest and constructive feedback.

And then there’s our clients. There are many clear ways that they express thankfulness after a win—a smile—a firm handshake—a tearful hug—a future referral. But as we know, not every case wins. Where can we find the thankfulness after a hard-fought loss or a painful hearing?

Our job as representatives is to win cases, yes, but it is also to listen to our clients, to advocate their position, and, perhaps most importantly, to tell their story with clarity and conviction. 

Nobody applies for disability because they want to. This path wasn’t on anyone’s vision board for their future. Our clients come to us at a time of deep pain—there’s often disappointment, confusion, and even anger about what led them to seek out our help. They aren’t thankful that they have to provide us with intimate details about their lives, and they certainly aren’t thankful when they receive a denial letter.

But I’d argue that, as a representative, if you do your job correctly, you’ll see the thankfulness even in the most expected denials. Sometimes we know our clients aren’t going to win. We know the judge—the records just don’t say enough—the medical expert tanks the case. But that doesn’t mean we give up. It’s our duty to know our client’s story and to tell it. We should be doing this in every case, with a brief in advance of the hearing, and again during the hearing. Fill in the gaps. Make sure the judge knows that they aren’t just looking at evidence, they are looking at a person whose story matters.

If you know your client well enough, you can help explain almost anything. Often there are legitimate, reasonable, common-sense explanations for holes in cases. Six months without care? Yes, but that’s because the client’s husband lost his job and the insurance lapsed and they couldn’t afford the copays. Refused a surgery? Yes, but that’s because the client has had three family members die having the same surgery within the last 10 years. Went on a trip? Yes, but the client’s mother was dying, and he needed to say goodbye—it was excruciating—he stopped every 15 minutes to get out of the car and walk around for 10 minutes—what should have taken 3 hours took 7. 

Things like this aren’t necessarily written down in your client’s file, but they matter to your client and their story, and it’s your duty to know your client well enough that you can weave this narrative artfully and persuasively. 

If you do this—ask the additional questions (before the hearing), listen to the claimant’s story, advocate on their behalf, and convincingly tell their story before and during the hearing, I think you’ll find that, not only will you be eking out some wins where you expected losses, but you’ll also be on the receiving end of genuine gratitude. People want to be heard. They want something to be thankful for. Be that something.

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