Tara Roberts bit a hole through her purse strap while getting her tattoo in her sophomore year at the University of Washington. Today Tara is a successful solo practitioner in the areas of estates, probate and trusts. “I’ve never regretted that choice,” she said of being a solo practitioner, and of getting a tattoo. “I always wanted to be a lawyer, and I knew I wanted to go to law school when I got my tattoo.”
As reported by a recent Seattle newspaper article, tattoos are becoming ubiquitous.1 A growing number of King County attorneys have tattoos. Doubts linger, however about whether it is acceptable to be tattooed and a lawyer. Is there a stigma against tattoos in the legal profession? Three tattooed King County lawyers spoke with the Bar Bulletin about being tattooed and an attorney.
I Thought About It a Long Time
“I have a more conservative personality, and I thought about it for a long time,” Tara said of her decision to get a small image of her sorority letters on her ankle. “Tat-toos were becoming fashionable, and most of my friends were getting them. I had some concerns about how a tattoo would be perceived by a prospective employer. I wanted something discreet, and that is reflected in the placement as well as the size.”
To ensure discretion, she took a strategic approach to her tattoo. “I measured all of my shoes,” Roberts said. “I drew a line on my foot to find a central spot which would be covered up by my shoes. It hurt a lot, but the pain I’ll go through next week will probably be worse,” she said, referring to her pregnancy and imminent delivery.
Roberts is self-employed with her own firm, “so there is no issue of employer discrimination.” She worked five years in a law firm, joined the KCBA Solo/Small Firm Section in 1999, and chaired the Section from 2002 to 2004.
“There probably will be more tattooed lawyers in the future, it’s more commonplace now,” Roberts said. “It’s a personal decision. You shouldn’t let your fear of other people’s perception stop you.”
I Have an Ability to Help Out
Jason Laurine studies for the Washington State Bar Exam in a Pioneer Square coffeehouse, his arms nearly covered with tattoos under his black tee shirt. A 2005 Seattle University Law School graduate, Jason plans to start a law firm dedicated to juvenile justice. “My goal and dream is to build a firm that’s dedicated solely to the representation of juvenile rights. These kids aren’t dumb, they’re just forgotten.”
Jason volunteered in Portland, Oregon with Rock Against Racism, Food Not Bombs, and Juvenile Rights Project. “I don’t want [kids] to respect me because of my tattoos, I want them to respect me because I have an ability to help them out, they understand that I’m intelligent, and we create a relationship where they’re willing to trust me based on that.”
Laurine co-authored an article, “An Exceptional Case: How Washington Should Amend Its Procedure for Imposing an Exceptional Sentence in Response to Blakely v. Washington” that appeared in the Summer 2005 edition of the Seattle University Law Review.
Jason got his tattoos long before he went to law school, with the first one in Salt Lake City. “I got my first tattoo in a punk rock house at 17 or 18 and it didn’t mean anything to me. After that I put more emphasis on them having some sort of meaning. The one on my right arm is a boxing thing – I got it down to where my wraps would be if I were wrapped up to box.”
He accepts that tattoos are still unusual on lawyers, but he feels that is changing. “Probably 70% of the girls at the law school have a little tattoo of some sort. A lot of the guys have tattoos too; it’s not an isolated thing. Tattoos are like different color shoelaces for your Adidas back in the v’80s. When Run-DMC wore them without laces, other people wore them with red laces, or with blue laces. It’s become a fashion accessory.”
On his first day of law school, Laurine wore a short-sleeve shirt, and eventually people came to know and accept him and his body art. “The ideas [about me] were 180 degrees wrong. A big bald kid with lots of tattoos is automatically a racist, and that’s not what I am. And that’s something that I have to get over within myself. You’re judged by the way you think, not by the way you look.”
Though society has become more tolerant of tattoos, they are still stigmatized, according to Laurine. “Tattoos are still taboo, they’re still associated with crime, alternative lifestyles, even though people’s own kids probably have tattoos. You don’t want to walk into court in front of six or twelve individuals and you’ve got ‘Live, Die, Love, Hate’ on your knuckles, a skull on your neck, when you’re supposed to be representing an individual. You’re not representing yourself there, you’re representing someone else.
“If I had millions of dollars I would get tattoos wherever I wanted. But I realize that I have to follow some conventions. Like hand and neck tattoos, as cool as they might be, they weren’t something that I could do and feel okay about doing. Although I know lawyers in New York that are tatted everywhere, necks, hands, everything.”
Jason’s advice for lawyers who are considering a tattoo is simple. “It’s like Pringles, once you pop you can’t stop. When you eat that first Pringle, you’d better make certain that is the flavor you want to eat, because you’re going to be stuck eating it, and you’re going to want to eat more. Make certain that it’s the right one, because it’s permanent, it’s there.”
Remembering What Kind of Person I Am
“People often ask me about my tattoo, why I have it on my hand,” said Public Defender Tim Johnson between hearings at the King County Courthouse. “I used to have a totally different kind of a life, and I didn’t want to be one of those people who got into the system and changed, and forgot who they were. I don’t think of myself as being a lawyer first, it happens to be that I am a lawyer.”
Tim graduated from Seattle University Law School and has worked at The Defender Association since 2001. With the felony division since 2003, he is preparing to defend his first Murder One case. “I’m the interface between the people who are not part of the system and the system. I’m that little bit of sand that makes the machine work that much harder to get the correct result, because that’s probably what it should be doing, not taking shortcuts.”
His tattoo is from 1991 in the Wasatch Mountain Range, Utah. “We rode our snowboards all winter at Snowbird Ski Resort and worked the resort at night. I rode the most extreme terrain; I definitely landed in the emergency room. I raced bicycles between college and law school, and I was a messenger downtown for a year and a half.”
Johnson often jokes about his tattoo, saying, “‘I got it in the joint.’ And then just for effect, before I smile I’ll say, ‘The second time.’ Of course I’ve never been to the joint, it’s a joke. I know it only helps with my opponents, it makes things interesting and unpredictable.”
His tattoo elicits curiosity from colleagues and clients. “There’s this disconnect when people meet me, which is ‘you look like you’re The Man, then I see the tattoo and I instantly know you’re not.’ You’re actually just as much a part of the world of the people you represent.
“Most clients when you’re a public defender have an adversarial relationship with you, they are thinking that you’re going to sell them out, that you work for The Man. They deal in your word, and being able to assess somebody’s credibility on face value. I am able to impart my credibility to them in the same manner and custom they’re used to.”
As a trial practitioner, Johnson observes jurors’ reaction to his tattoo. “When it really comes into play is when I’m in trial. Sometimes I can tell when they see my hand, especially when I’m doing closing arguments. Recently in an attempted murder charge I could see the foreperson looking at my hand in the middle of my argument. When he saw it he really looked at me, I could tell he hadn’t seen it before, and I could see he instantly was wondering what was going on with that.”
To Johnson, the tattoo encourages jurors to look below the surface of the arguments. “The juror is getting information I can’t control, so I wonder if they’re realizing that maybe what I’m telling them is more than what it might appear to be. It’s the wild card that I don’t have any control over. But it’s not something I’m afraid of; it’s just something I have to consider.
“My job is giving people the benefit of the doubt, making sure that principle is being applied,” Johnson said. “Trial is theater, and I know I’m successful when it’s not about me, and I’m putting into motion all these things and ideas that are going to line up and support the defense theory of why the jury should come back with not guilty.”
Does his employer have a policy about tattoos in the office? “Are you kidding?” he grins. “I’d be willing to bet that there are others in my office who have tattoos. I think I’ve seen a few.”
It is only a matter of time before tattoos on lawyers are as common as pierced ears. The number of tattooed lawyers is poised to grow as law students, many of whom have tattoos, enter the profession. Employers need not fear hiring tattooed associates however, with lawyers as disciplined, hard-working and high-achieving as Roberts, Laurine and Johnson. Tattoos say much about the personal history of their wearers, who more and more often happen to be attorneys.
Annalee F. Cobbett is a civil practice attorney in consumer rights, business, guardianship and debtor-creditor law in King and Pierce counties. She won’t say whether or not she has a tattoo. She is a member of the KCBA Solo/Small Firm Section. Contact her at cobbettlaw@comcast.net.
1 “New Fashion Pierces Tradition,” Brad Wong, Seattle Post-Intelligencer, June 28, 2005.
