Why I Chose Advocacy Over Lawyering: A Life Shaped by Purpose, Not Titles

In 2019, while exploring the Basilica of San Marco in Florence, I came across a moment that stopped me in my tracks. Beneath a gilded inscription, encased in glass, lay the preserved body of St Antoninus of Florence — Dominican friar, Archbishop, and a man known throughout history not for grandeur, but for justice.

The plaque beside his tomb described him as a reformer, a spiritual leader, a counsellor to civic authorities, and above all, a defender of the poor. He had no legal title — but his life embodied everything I understand advocacy to be. In that quiet chapel, I felt something powerful. I recognised a familiar calling.

Even as a child, I had an innate sense of justice. I couldn’t stand bullies, unfairness, or silence in the face of wrongdoing. That instinct to defend others, to speak out when it would have been easier to stay quiet, has followed me all my life. It’s not something I studied — it’s something I’ve lived.

I hold a Bachelor of Laws, and I am completing my Master of International Laws. But I have never pursued admission as a solicitor — and I never will. Not because I cannot, but because I have chosen something deeper. Something more human. More immediate. More real.

I chose advocacy.

Where lawyering often revolves around systems, procedure, and representation at arm’s length, advocacy is personal. It is standing side-by-side with someone who has been dismissed unfairly, discriminated against, harassed at work, or shut out of a system not built for them. Advocacy allows me to walk directly with people — not through the formalities of a court, but through the lived experiences of those seeking fairness, dignity, and truth.

This is why I founded 1800ADVOCATES — not as a legal practice, but as a place for real-world representation. A space where workers, carers, whistleblowers, and everyday Australians can be heard and supported. My advocacy spans human rights, employment fairness, workplace injury, and systemic inequality. I work not just in commissions and hearings, but in the in-between places where people feel most alone.

The example of St Antoninus resonated because he, too, lived advocacy. As Archbishop of Florence during a time of social upheaval, he didn’t seek distance from the poor — he walked among them. He offered counsel to leaders, yes, but he also offered refuge to the marginalised. He didn’t need a legal title to change lives. He only needed principle.

San Marco Basilica - Saint Antoninus (Photo: Brian Newman 2019)

His example brings to mind St Ivo of Kermartin, the patron saint of lawyers and advocates, who lived in 13th-century Brittany. Trained in both civil and canon law, St Ivo famously represented the poor without charge, refused bribes, and used his knowledge to protect those most vulnerable. His tomb lies in the Cathedral of Saint-Tugdual in Tréguier, where he remains a symbol of justice guided by compassion.

I carry a St Ivo of Kermartin medal in my pocket as a reminder not to yield to bullies and remind me of those Advocates who have gone before me.

Where others saw legal argument, Ivo and Antoninus saw people, as I do. Where others upheld status, they upheld dignity, as I do.

Their lives remind me that advocacy is not a fallback — it is a vocation. It is a life choice. And it is one I embrace with pride, conviction, and clarity of purpose.

Every time I stand beside a worker facing a workplace dispute, every time I prepare a submission for someone who’s been treated unfairly, every time I help someone navigate systems that feel overwhelming — I am advocating. And in those moments, I feel closest to the legacy of these two saints.

San Marco Basilica - St Antoninus (Photo: Brian Newman 2019)

I chose advocacy because it allows me to speak directly to justice — not from behind a desk, but from within the human experience.

One day, I hope to visit Tréguier and stand before St Ivo’s tomb, just as I once stood before St Antoninus’s in Florence. But until then, I carry their spirit with me in every matter I take on — walking beside those who need not just representation, but understanding, belief, and a voice that will not falter.