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Vol. 58 No. 9

Trial Magazine

Hear Our Voices

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A Lifetime of Split-Second Decisions

Casey Johnson September 2022

In these pieces written by AAJ’s LGBTQ trial lawyer members, read about their experiences and stories they want to share. We must listen and, together, work to bring about change.


I began coming out as gay to people close to me in 1993. Eighteen years old and living at home in the then very conservative Santa Clarita Valley in California, I’d drive into West Hollywood as often as possible to be around people like me. On one such evening, someone was handing out postcard advertisements for a gay club. I took one and put it in my pocket. When I got home, I put my clothes in the hamper as I did every night.

The next day, I got home from school to find my mother sitting in the family room. As I walked in, she asked, “Is this yours?” and handed me the ad, which prominently featured a scantily clad male go-go dancer. Before I could muster a response, she continued, “Are you gay?” I snapped back, “Yes, is that a problem?” Not the diplomacy with which I had always intended to handle the conversation. I offered to get her and my dad some books to read or to connect them with a local PFLAG chapter, a support group for families and friends of LGBTQ people, to help them better understand. My mom’s immediate fear was that I was going to die of AIDS. I assured her that would not happen because I was not sexually active.

In the following weeks, my parents shared that my grandfather, who passed away about six years before, always knew that I was gay. Several years later, my mother also shared that when I was about three years old, she took me to my pediatrician and asked him, “My son is gay. What do I do?” This was 1977, and thankfully, the doctor said, “Love him; he’s your son.” After a few somewhat awkward years following that first conversation with my mom, my parents returned to being two of my closest friends. They could not be more supportive of me and my husband.

But “coming out” for me, like most LGBTQ people, is a lifelong process that repeats anytime I interact with someone new and must make the conscious decision whether to share that aspect of my life. Rarely a day goes by that I don’t have to decide whether to disclose part of who I am. It can be something as casual as a hotel representative asking for the name of the guest staying in my room with one king bed or the rental car agent asking if I’d like to add my wife to the reservation.

I am incredibly grateful to have been embraced wholeheartedly by my law firm since my first day at the office more than 20 years ago. But that does not alleviate the anxiety that regularly floods over me when a client—who is trusting me entirely and sharing every aspect of their life—asks me if I’m married or have a wife. Despite being an out and proud gay man, I nevertheless must analyze each client separately and decide in a split second how to respond. I know I have the unwavering support of my firm, but I would never want such a disclosure to cause the loss of a client.

Interactions with judicial officers also can be terrifying. Casual conversations at a local bar event during which someone expresses a genuine interest in my personal life immediately put me on guard. The thought that if this judge has a bias against the LGBTQ community, it could negatively impact one of my clients fills my mind. I have become quite adept at dodging questions or redirecting the conversation to avoid any self-disclosure.

Despite the improvement I’ve seen in attitudes where I practice in Orange County, Calif., I remain painfully aware that many LGBTQ lawyers across the country do not have the benefit of practicing in largely supportive legal communities. The fight for equality must continue, and all members and allies of the LGBTQ community must continue to speak out and make their support known. Then one day, we can live in a country where nobody has to make a split-second decision about whether they should be their authentic self at work, in court, or with their clients.


Casey Johnson is a partner at Aitken Aitken Cohn in Santa Ana, Calif., and can be reached at casey@aitkenlaw.com.