This article was originally published in the November/December 2021 issue of San Diego Lawyer Magazine.

By Brian Keliher

Twitter CEO Jack Dorsey has the mathematical integral symbol extending down the entire length of his forearm. On Canadian Prime Minister Justin Trudeau’s shoulder is a softball-sized drawing of the Earth inside a Haida raven. A Maori tribal design covers the right bicep of Ben, a barista at Blue Bottle Coffee. 

Tattoos are ubiquitous, from the boardroom to the corner café. According to a 2019 Ipsos poll, 40% of adults ages 18-34 say they have at least one tattoo, along with 36% of adults ages 35-54. Age isn’t a significant barrier to the personal branding movement either, with 16% of those age 55 or older reporting they have inked up as well. 

“There is a whole gamut of reasons people get tattoos,” says Bradley Ruffle, Director of the McMaster Decision Science Laboratory at McMaster University. “Some strike me as things that are going to change, and others are memory-related, like memorializing a loved one or wanting to remember a particular time in your life.” 

Identifying inked San Diego attorneys is challenging because tattoos can be hidden by long sleeves and collars. What lies beneath those Ann Taylor blouses and Armani suits? Three San Diego attorneys give us a look. 

Healing Arts 

“In 2013 I found out I had breast cancer,” said Leucadia-based attorney Debra Morse. “Bad. Stage 3b. ‘Honey, you’re going to die unless we do something.’” Cancer treatment was harsh and required a lot of bed rest, so television and books were a necessary distraction. 

“Back then there were quite a few TV shows that went into the whole idea of stories behind tattoos,” continued Morse. “At the same time, I was reviving my interest in anthropology and the ancient peoples and their ink. I decided I was going to commemorate my experience like any good warrior would.” 

On Morse’s forearm is now a spherical tattoo of two ravens along with the Welsh inscription that translates to Mother of Ravens. “Ravens have a personal meaning to me that has to do with Celtic mythology and Morgan, a very fierce Celtic goddess,” she says. “That’s how tattooing became a commemoration and a recognition of my triumph over that cancer episode.”

Morse, who teaches legal research and consults on elder abuse litigation, says she’s experienced little negativity concerning her tattoos from clients or members of the Bar. “I would say 95% of the people I meet are absolutely intrigued by my tattoos,” she says. “They want to know the story.”

Anything Can Happen

Covering the upper half of San Diego trial attorney Eric Ganci’s inner forearm is Shel Silverstein’s poem “Listen to the Mustn’ts” from the children’s book Where the Sidewalk Ends. The poem, drawn in a serif font and superimposed over a fleur-de-lis, encourages children to avoid naysayers and accept that “Anything can happen, child,/ ANYTHING can be.” This message resonates with Ganci.

“I have a background in music,” said Ganci, who has a side gig playing drums with the local band Rock Out Karaoke. “The poem reminds me to dream and play. I use ‘play’ not just in the sense of physically playing an instrument. It’s playing like a kid in the sandbox; a ‘there are no rules’ kind of playing.”

Ganci’s “there are no rules” interpretation of the poem is not his alone. Where the Sidewalk Ends was banned in 1986 by school districts in Wisconsin and Pennsylvania over concerns that the content would lead to “disrespect for truth and authority.” Ganci’s response when he learned of this? “It makes me like it even more.”

Of his two tattoos, his favorite is a vivid four-color drawing of a Virgo maiden covering his right chest and wrapping around his shoulder. Ganci, a Virgo, said this tattoo reminds him to focus on himself: “I know that I can’t help other people unless I help myself first, and that means being healthy, both physically and mentally.”

Ganci’s art is purposefully placed where it can be hidden by a long-sleeved shirt, though he does appreciate opportunities to roll up his sleeves: “I like that my tattoos can be visible when I’m not wearing the old suit and tie.”

Reactions from clients who do catch a glance have been positive. “My tattoos can sometimes break the ice, making me more relatable to certain people,” he says. On the very short list of those who don’t appreciate his art? “My parents,” says Ganci. “Just my parents.”

Under Cover

“The fact that I don’t want my name published aligns with the fact that I cover up my tattoos at work,” said one public-interest attorney in her early 30s who chose to remain anonymous when discussing her decision to ink up. 

Her tattoos have a spiritual motif, which she says was influenced by “personal development, love of multiculturalism, and an understanding of the unity of all religions.” Among the dozen tattoos extending the lengths of both of her arms is a bird drawn by a friend based on a painting hanging in a Peruvian hut. Her art also includes a Sanskrit mantra, an ankh, and the Star of David.

She says her young age and her gender make her more susceptible to bias. “I always wear long sleeves at work,” she said. “When representing someone, I don’t want to be a distraction. I don’t want to stand out in court. I already stand out because I’m a young woman.” The potential for unfavorable reactions has influenced where on her body she inks. “If bias were eliminated against people with tattoos, I wouldn’t get a neck tattoo — but I would get one further down on my hand.”

Like Ganci, she says tattoos have, at times, helped her connect with clients. “A client once noticed my tattoos when I pushed up my sleeve and said, ‘You have a tattoo! I have one, too.’”

No Regrets

While not often visible, tattoos are among us in the San Diego legal community. The motivations vary, and the messages are mostly personal. None of the individuals we talked with have regrets.

Well, with one exception. Referring to her Aquarius tattoo just above the bend in her left arm, our spiritually inspired attorney says, “I had a friend in college who was a tattoo artist. We were at a party. I kind of regret that a little bit. 

Brian Keliher (brian.keliher@gcccd.edu) is an attorney and also the Business Administration Department Chair at Grossmont College.