Somer Brown

Sponsored by RebuttalPR

What initially inspired you to specialize in plaintiff personal injury law, and how has that motivation evolved over the years?

I actually started out in defense work. For the first seven years of my career, I was a defense lawyer—first in Houston, then I moved back home to Lake Charles, a town of about 150,000 people on I-10, close to Texas. I did more defense work there, and I really thought I hated being a lawyer. I never knew if we won. We'd walk out of a trial, and I'd think, "I don't feel like I won—this doesn't feel good." I was ready to quit being a lawyer entirely.

But I had done some work with a guy here, and when I called him to say I was leaving, he said, "Come here." He'd been teasing me over the years, saying, "You're going to be a plaintiff's lawyer." So I ended up here, and I realized I didn't hate being a lawyer—I hated being a defense lawyer. Representing people is so much better and different. I don't know how I ever did it any other way.

Looking through your questions, I realized every single answer comes back to the people and the clients I represent. Every time one of them gives me a hug or sends a referral, that's the motivation. Also, I'm a mom of two teenage daughters. I can tell them proudly what I do instead of trying to explain, "Well, when people get hurt, I try to keep them from getting money." I have pride in what I do and in the relationships I've formed through doing it.

Were you always interested in law? Did you always want to go to law school as a kid or did you have lawyers in your family?

I had no lawyers in my family, and I'm not even sure exactly where I learned what a lawyer was. I can distinctly remember as a kid, while other kids played teacher, I would line up my baby dolls and present cases to them and present facts to them. I didn't even know what I was doing.

For my fifth-grade graduation speech, I said I wanted to be like Sandra Day O'Connor, and I just always knew that's what I was going to do. I guess that's lucky in some ways. I guess it was because the only thing I was good at was talking.

What types of cases and general practice areas do you handle?

We do a little bit of everything. When people ask what I do, I say, "Basically, if a little guy is hurt by a big guy, I help them." We handle typical car crashes, wrongful death cases, and I have stumbled into institutional neglect and sex abuse cases because there wasn't anyone in town doing that work. Someone called asking if I would refer them to a lawyer out of town because nobody local wanted to take their case. Their daughter had been sexually abused by a teacher, and they wanted a referral to someone in Houston. I said, "No, let me do it." That spiraled into an unfortunate niche, but one that has been very fulfilling.

How does your background on the defense side inform how you litigate cases now and represent clients?

I think it's probably one of the most invaluable things I did for my practice because I can anticipate what the other side is going to do. It's funny because I never could on the defense side. As the plaintiff, you get to go first and make the case about whatever you want and tell the story however you want. There are so many times where I'll tell the defense lawyer, "You're not defending the case I'm trying," and they don't always know what case we're trying—they know what case they're defending.

I have insight into what's happening on the other side. I know what they're reporting to their insurance company clients and what I need to give them to get the authority they need. I actually feel sorry for defense lawyers because, as I joke with some I'm friendly with, "Really, nobody likes you. Your client doesn't like you. My client doesn't like you. You're in a terrible position, fighting everyone, including your own clients." But I think that experience has been a real benefit to me.

Can you share a specific case or two that had a significant impact on you personally or professionally?

The first was the case where the parents called asking if I knew someone who could represent them. I took on the case of a 16-year-old girl who had been born in prison to a mother who was incarcerated. She was adopted by a family when she was 14, so she'd been in the system her entire life. She was very troubled, and this family also adopted her little sister, so she was sort of the afterthought. Then this teacher victimized her. We represented her and had a great outcome—the case went all the way through trial. I got very close with her. After the case was tried to verdict and settled, she had a falling out with her adoptive parents. She and I have stayed very close. She's now a grown woman, married with kids. I've represented her when her house got hurricane damage. She went to college, got a degree and a job, and we've stayed in touch through all of life's big events. She's actually reconciled with her adoptive family now. That relationship showed me I was somebody who made a difference in her life, and it wasn't even about the money because she didn't get it. It was that somebody actually loved her and believed her for once in her life. That's when I knew I was doing what I was supposed to be doing.

The second case was an employment case. A lot of those don't get tried around here. I had a client who was a typical older Southern man who said, "I don't believe in lawyers, except I've been screwed, so now I need a lawyer. Every other lawsuit isn't a real lawsuit." He probably fought me harder than anyone all along the way, but we ended up getting what was the biggest employment verdict in Louisiana ever at the time. He became a true believer—sends people to me, sends Christmas cards. I can't tell you how many times I wanted to kill him and he wanted to kill me, but he trusted me. It's just about the relationships with people, however hard-fought they might be.

For that first case, you built a personal relationship with that person. How do you balance that when there's something in their case you disagree about or when you have to break bad news to them?

Sometimes it gets to where they're almost like a family friend or family member, and I have to call them out like I would family. I don't talk to them like a lawyer. Every client has my cell phone number—my business card doesn't even have an office number on it. We are doing this together. You've trusted me with the worst thing in your life, so now you have to trust me with it. I have one client where I had to call her every week and say, "You need to hold it together. You have to trust me. If we need to pray together, let's pray together—whatever you need to do, we have to keep going." I treat them like I would my own kids, my best friend, or my sister.

How does always being "on"—being a lawyer, confidant, and sometimes counselor—affect you? How do you try to regain work-life balance?

Since they all have my cell phone number, I do tell them, "I'm not answering your call at 10 o'clock at night. There's nothing I can help you with at that time. If you're drinking and need to cry, don't call me." I have to set some boundaries, and most people respect them without them having to be said. Most people don't take advantage of it. I've found that most people are very respectful and just happy to be entrusted with it and to know they can reach me.

The most important thing—and the biggest mistake I see lawyers make—is to just be in contact with clients, even if you have nothing to tell them. Just tell them that: "Nothing's going on right now, just checking in." It makes a big difference because people come to a lawyer when something horrible has happened to them. It's another case to us, but this is the worst thing that's probably ever happened in their lives. While it's just another case for us, it's the most important thing in their life at the time. Yes, they call and ask a lot of questions sometimes, but they really just need to talk to someone and be assured that it's going to be okay.

What are some of the most significant challenges you face as a female attorney in this field, and what strategies have you employed to overcome them?

My town is your typical small Southern town. I'm the only female partner and the only female lawyer. When I go to court, I'm often the only woman there. We have female lawyers in town, but most do family law or aren't litigating jury trial cases. I used to get mistaken for the court reporter or the runner when I was younger.

For me personally, it's been about imposter syndrome. When I first started, I would act like and dress like the guys, thinking “Okay, I need a dark suit and I need to be really loud and aggressive.” It wasn't really me authentically. As I got comfortable, especially during voir dire – my favorite part of a trial – I tell juries "I'm just a goofy mom, just like some of y'all." I talk to them like I'm talking to you, and you can see them relax like, "Okay, this person isn't trying to lawyer us—she's just talking to us and giving us a job to do."

So that process has been growing into being comfortable being who I am and not feeling like I have to act like other lawyers in the room, because I'm not like them. I'm not a man and I'm not naturally aggressive. I thought as a woman, if I act like your sister, your friend, or your mom, I'm going to get taken advantage of. As I've gotten older, I realize not only am I not getting taken advantage of, but even when I'm deposing a defendant, they put their guard down because they think, "I'm just talking to this woman. She's not trying to outsmart me or trick me." People expect lawyers to be trying to trick them all the time. I always tell my clients when I'm prepping them for depositions: "If it feels like a conversation, it's not going well—it shouldn't feel like that. But if the lawyer's smart, that's what they're trying to do: make you comfortable."

Are there any mentors or role models who have been pivotal to your career, and how have they influenced your professional path?

The very first SWTL conference I went to in New Orleans—I don't remember when it was, years and years ago—Dana Brooks spoke. I've always been surrounded by men in my little world, and that was the first women's thing I'd gone to. I've told her this since, but I'll never forget she talked about time management or something similar, and she mentioned how she goes and gets a blowout every week and lets somebody else do her hair while she checks emails.

I thought, "This is the most authentic woman I have ever seen"—just unapologetically like, "I'm a woman." She embodies that. She doesn't dress like a man; she's not wearing a black suit when she walks in. She's really a badass, and she's just who she is. She's not worried about what anyone else thinks about it. I don't know if I'd call her a mentor, but that was something I'll never forget. That was the first time I really saw a woman stand up there and just own her womanhood as an attorney.

You mentioned work-life balance. How do you find balance as a working mom and trial attorney, and how do you prioritize what needs prioritizing?

I love this question because my handle on social media is "The Unbalanced Mama." I've gotten to a point where I'm like, "There is not ever going to be balance," and I give myself grace. I've even told my kids this: "Look, I try to control my own schedule a lot of the time, so I try to be there when I can for all the things, but there are going to be times when I can't be there” and vice versa for work things.

I'm either more mom or more lawyer, but sometimes one's got to give. I have to have grace with myself and grace with my kids. My husband is a huge help, but he's still not the mom. I have girls, and they still need their mom. Even when I relinquish control, I still have mom brain—"They need to do this, they need to think about back-to-school shopping."

I've gotten to the point where I'm like, "There is not going to be balance. I just have to try to do one as best I can when I'm doing it." My kids are old enough now that I can tell them and they get it: "Sometimes I have to do these things so we can go do other things—this is how we live." They're getting to a point where I can run trial things by them and ask them questions, you know, like little jurors. But yeah, balance is not a thing.

You mentioned really liking voir dire. What other aspects of this work are you most passionate about?

On a daily basis—because unfortunately, as trial lawyers, we don't get to go to trial as much as we'd like—I really love the learning curve. I just had a case where I got certified in confined space so I could go under a building and look at pipes. Whatever the case is about, I'm learning it, and I love that.

I also love that it's like a puzzle. There comes a point in every case where you either figure out what the defense is hiding or you figure out what the thing is—that "aha" moment. It's not quite like CSI, but there's a little aspect of that in PI law. I like the figuring out of things.

What advice would you give to younger women attorneys who are just starting out in this area of law?

This isn't a shameless plug for SWTL, but I would say find a group. If you don't have one near you, find a group of women—both those who have already been through what you're going through and those who are just starting out. That's what I love about the Society: there are people at the end of their careers and people at the beginning, so we can all support each other.

You have to take time. We're talking about balance—there's never a good time to take off, and when you come back there's always going to be a pile of things to deal with. You might even have to check your email while you're on vacation, but you have to take time to get away, reconnect, and recharge without feeling guilty about it. I used to think, especially as the only woman, "I have to make them think I never have to leave the office," and that's just stupid. You have to take time. Find your people, reconnect, recharge.

How do you think you can bring other women attorneys up with you to help make sure they have opportunities?

I've participated in our State Bar mentor program with female attorneys. I'm constantly looking to onboard another female attorney, but I haven't found one yet. Like I said, there aren't a lot of trial lawyers in this area.

I think it starts as early as you can with groups like SWTL, State Bar women's groups, whatever it is—just encouraging them to come first of all. A lot of the young ones probably think, "Oh, I shouldn't go to a conference. I should just take a cheap CLE at the courthouse." No, encourage them to come. Sponsor them to come and let them see what's out there.

It took me a really long time to realize there were other women out there doing this and how they were dealing with things. Not everybody has to fight the fights that have already been fought. When they hear those stories and meet these women, I think women have to—and we are starting to do a better job of—encouraging each other instead of fighting each other. A rising tide lifts all ships, so I hope to bring other women along if I can find them.

I actually have a high school girl clerking for me right now. I have really nothing for a high schooler to do, but she wants to go to law school, so I said, "Yes, come work with me. You can follow me around."

How is being a practicing attorney different from what you expected when you were in law school?

I went to Baylor, so we did some trial advocacy, more than a lot of other law schools. But as everyone tells you, it doesn't really prepare you to practice law because even mock trials don't have the factor of a human who you don't know what they're going to do—that unknown element.

I remember the first deposition I thought I was so prepared. I didn't even take it—I was just presenting my client, a business owner, and I was doing defense work. I prepared him for two days. He sits down, and the first question was, "Can you state your name for the record?" And he said some name that I was like, "What did he say? That is not your name. I've been calling you Tony this whole time," and it wasn't like Anthony—it was something I can't even remember because I think I blacked out. I was like, "Okay, we've got to take a break. The senior partner is going to kill me. I don't even know this guy's name."

It's about being able to roll with the punches. In law school, when you have a little trial, everything's set out. But in practice, it's more like, "Okay, we're good. There's nothing I can't deal with, as long as I know about it"—like your name is something I should know.

You've seen changes in media and social media and how people consume news and communicate. Are you feeling pressure to keep up with the latest trends in how you communicate with clients?

That's really been something I've been working hard on. 2025 was a year I said I'm going to start doing more social media. I don't know why—I can talk to anyone, my kids are always like, "Oh my God, Mom could talk to a pole"—but when I get on camera, I don't blink and I'm so awkward. I don't naturally tend toward social media.

But I am trying to start incorporating that, and it goes back to the same philosophy I mentioned before. I talked to our marketing people, and they were like, "Oh, we need to set up a professional account." I said, "I'm not doing that. I'm going to just have an account, and I'm going to be a lawyer and I'm going to be a mom on that account." I have clients who follow me, and they see who I really am. If I'm going to do social media, I'm going to do it as myself. I'm not going to have Lawyer Somer and Mom Somer.

But it is a lot. Luckily, I have teenage girls, so they help me a little bit—they're like, "No, no, don't post that. Don't hold the camera that way." But it is hard to keep up. Lawyer advertising is the worst thing in the world because it's a necessary evil to stay relevant. We do all the traditional billboards and stuff, but I think social media is really where people are getting their information. People expect to know who you are before they know who you are because we do that now—we look people up, we Facebook stalk people. So I'm trying to be more present in that way, but it is very awkward.

Looking back on your career so far, what accomplishments are you most proud of, and what future goals are you still working toward?

The things I'm most proud of are the relationships I've made with people. The proudest moment is a Google review or, even more importantly, if someone has another accident or someone to refer—a referral from a client is the biggest honor. When they stop by and bring their kids or cookies for Christmas, it's knowing that it wasn't just a one-and-done deal, that we actually formed a relationship. They trusted us during a horrible time in their lives.

Future goals would be helping other females who are thinking about going to law school or being trial lawyers to know that it's possible. The numbers are just abysmal when you look at the number of women in law school—that's going up—but the number of women in practice, not so much. You can do this your way; you just have to figure it out. I have a lot of freedom here, so I'm lucky in that respect, but I've also had to demand it sometimes and say, "I'm doing this, I'm not going to be here, I'm doing something with my kids." I guess I would like to bring up some more female lawyers.