The Street Lawyer

In a novel that is all about passionately fighting for a cause against all odds, only men get to do the hard work. Women remain in the background as nurturers, cooks, secretaries, and drug addicts, with few women in positions of power.

Grisham draws an interesting contrast between Michael’s mother, who never gets a name, and Lontae Burton. Michael mentions that his mother was a banker, and that his parents “worked hard, saved well, and provided a comfortable upper-middle-class home” for him and his brothers (53), but in the present day, she is mostly a worrier who concerns herself with appearances. She grieves Warner’s divorce, not because he might be hurt but because of how it reflects on her; she frets about Michael’s safety in DC, but only because she sees the crime statistics, which have no relevance to the area of DC in which Michael lives and works. To say she is out of touch with her children is an understatement. Lontae, on the other hand, battles her drug addiction and life on the streets every day to keep her children safe, healthy, and fed, often sacrificing herself and her own needs. Unlike Michael’s mother, whose race and class afford her great privilege, Lontae constantly fights an oppressive society structured to marginalize her at every turn. One could argue that they are both products of their environment, and that as such, they both do the best they can with what they know. Grisham’s picture of the women, however, depicts Lontae as the true nurturer and Michael’s mom as a passive actress playing the role of a mother. Either way, neither of the women possess real power or agency.

The two women in the novel who come closest to having power are Sofia Mendoza, the woman who runs the front desk at the legal clinic, and Megan, who directs Naomi’s Women’s Center, where Ruby stays during the day. Grisham characterizes both women as smart and clever, but their narrative importance is found in connection to Michael. As Michael puts in more hours at the legal clinic, he begins to see Sofia’s indispensable bevy of creativity, connections, and resourcefulness. The more he collaborates with Megan for Ruby, the more he sees her romantic appeal. Both women, however, hold the position of “almost powerful.”

Mordecai and the others at the legal clinic respect Sofia, and they regard her as an equal member of the team, but Grisham makes it clear that she is a social worker, not a lawyer. She does locate Hector Palma for Michael, which is crucial to their case, but she cannot be present in court, she cannot officially provide legal advice, and her voice is not heard beyond the walls of the clinic. She puts in regular hours at the clinic, whereas Mordecai and Michael seem to work around the clock, because she is not inextricably bound to any cases. Ironically, after Michael surrenders his law license for nine months, and Mordecai assures him that his status will be the same as Sofia’s, he tells Michael in a later conversation that he is “the new blood, the new talent who would invigorate the clinic and take it to the next level” (366), undermining the notion that Sofia and Michael are equals and painting Sofia as a glorified receptionist.

Megan’s character, although clearly gifted enough to successfully run a shelter that offers women education, community, and safety, is ultimately relegated to the status of romantic interest. She does provide some ideas for keeping Ruby sober, and in the end, she provides the “safe house” where she and Michael vacation and Ruby maintains her sobriety, but those narrative contributions are minimal. She is not indispensable to the plot, or even to Michael personally. In fact, no woman in this novel is vital to Michael, Mordecai, or any of the other characters.