Returning to Criminal Law: Two Years, Ten Lessons

Two and a half years ago, I returned to the practice of criminal law after more than two decades in corporate and private practice. What I've learned since then has challenged and changed me in ways I didn't expect. These ten lessons reflect the weight of the work, the humanity of the people involved, and the privilege of standing between the individual and the power of the state. For anyone considering this path—or just curious about what it really means to be a criminal defense attorney—I hope these reflections resonate.

The Journey Back

Two and a half years ago, I made the decision to return to the practice of criminal law.

Early in my career—from 2000 to 2005—I had the privilege of serving as a prosecutor in Baltimore City. It was my first job out of law school. During those five intense years, I tried over forty jury trials and developed the kind of thousand-yard stare that comes from the traumatic, relentless work in an often violent and chaotic jurisdiction. It was a trial by fire, and I was fortunate to learn from many deeply talented professionals.

Over the next 22 years, my legal career took a different path. I served as in-house counsel for a public company in Atlanta, worked at two large firms, and eventually became a Shareholder at my own firm. Then, a friend suggested I consider volunteering for the appointed counsel list in Gwinnett County. He told me there were openings and a real need for qualified attorneys to help those unable to afford legal representation.

That conversation was a turning point.

Since returning to criminal defense, I've been reminded every day of the weight this work carries—and the people behind each case file. These are the ten lessons I've learned over the past two years—insights I believe are worth sharing:

1. You hold someone's life and liberty in your hands.

This isn't just a job—it's a profound responsibility. To be effective, you must quickly earn your client's trust. Without that trust, your ability to advocate, advise, and defend is compromised from the start.

2. You're not just representing a client—you're often navigating an entire family dynamic.

A good criminal defense attorney is part advocate, part therapist. Families bring their own emotions, expectations, and stress into the case, and those dynamics can greatly impact the attorney-client relationship. Navigating this terrain requires emotional intelligence, sensitivity, and a high degree of interpersonal skill. Often, managing the family is just as important as managing the case.

3. Many clients are fighting more than just a criminal charge.

Drug addiction, mental illness, emotional trauma, poor decision-making, and psychological struggles often underlie criminal behavior. When a client is coming from a place of vulnerability or instability, it takes patience and strong communication skills to explain the process, the proceedings, and the potential outcomes in a way they can understand.

4. The criminal justice system only works when everyone shows up—together.

Criminal defense is not a solo act. It's part of a larger, collaborative system where prosecutors, judges, court staff, law enforcement, and defense attorneys each play critical roles. The system functions only when each participant fulfills their duty with integrity, day in and day out. There's a unique camaraderie among those in this field—born from shared pressures, dramatic moments, and the deep understanding that this work is vital to a functioning society.

5. The criminal defense bar is made up of remarkable human beings.

This community of attorneys defies the typical lawyer stereotypes. They collaborate, support, and genuinely root for one another. Returning to criminal law has reintroduced me to this rare camaraderie—one of the most rewarding parts of the journey. Getting to know and work alongside such dedicated, compassionate professionals around the courthouse has been an unexpected joy.

6. Every piece of evidence demands your full attention.

There are no shortcuts. Crafting an effective defense requires deep knowledge of the law, mastery of the rules of evidence, and a complete command of the case facts. Success hinges on your ability to analyze, strategize, and clearly present the defense to a jury.

7. Good police work deserves more credit—and bad police work deserves scrutiny.

As a defense attorney, it's my job to challenge the evidence. But when a case is strong—built on thorough investigation and appropriate charging—it becomes clear just how much effort and professionalism went into the police work. Detectives and officers often don't get enough credit for the care they put into their roles. Watching hours of body camera footage has shown me just how much of that work the public never sees. When the process is done right, it's impressive. When it's not, it's a disservice to justice—but in my experience, that's the exception, not the rule. And I'm always looking for it.

8. Incarceration isn't the only form of punishment—and it shouldn't be.

One of the most important lessons I've learned is that the criminal justice system has many ways to hold people accountable. A thoughtful system should distinguish between a career criminal and a first-time offender, between someone who poses a true public threat and someone who simply made a mistake. Jail should be reserved for the dangerous and the repeat offenders. When a prosecutor's office makes those distinctions with fairness and integrity, that's when real justice is achieved.

9. Trials are about the evidence—and the burden of proof.

In criminal law, the outcome is binary: guilty or not guilty. If the evidence proves guilt beyond a reasonable doubt, the verdict is guilty. If it doesn't, the verdict must be not guilty. Some clients admit guilt and seek a resolution. Others tell you from the start that they didn't do it and won't plead guilty. Those are the cases that go to trial. In those moments, your client is telling you: it's all up to you.

10. This work is humbling—and it matters.

Criminal defense brings you face-to-face with people at their lowest point. It tests your skills, your judgment, your patience, and your empathy. But it also grants a rare privilege: the chance to stand between an individual and the full power of the state. To protect rights, to demand fairness, and to ensure justice is done. It's an honor to do this work—and I'm grateful to have returned to it now in my career.