04/13/2026
Have You Ever Had a Client Hug You After a Hearing?
By Brian J. Gillette, Gillette Law Group, PLLC
I have.
I’ve had clients send thank you notes. I’ve had clients drive to our office in Williamsburg just to tell me and my team that we saved their family. That we saved their home. That they finally have hope again.
I’ve felt the deep, specific joy of helping a veteran who came home from service with a mind and body full of damage and a system full of red tape, a person who had been told “no” so many times he almost stopped asking, and watching him realize that someone was finally on his side. Not because I owed him something. Because he deserved an advocate who wouldn’t quit.
I know what it’s like to stand beside a person who has suffered the damage of addiction, a person most of the world would write off as unworthy, and watch them take the first steps toward a better life. Not because I gave them a handout. Because I gave them a fair fight.
I can still picture the face of a 58-year-old man who spent 30 years pouring concrete and never once called in sick, a man whose own family told him he was lazy for filing a claim, when he finally received the benefits he earned with his own two hands. Not because I felt sorry for him. Because I respected him enough to fight for him.
That’s what this work is. That’s what it feels like when you do it right.
If you’ve never experienced that, and you want to, keep reading.
If you’ve experienced it before and you miss it, definitely keep reading.
What I’ve Built Over 20 Years
My name is Brian Gillette. I run Gillette Law Group, PLLC, in Williamsburg, Virginia. For more than 20 years, I’ve represented individuals seeking disability benefits from the Social Security Administration and the Virginia Retirement System.
I didn’t build a mill. I built a practice.
There’s a difference. A mill pushes volume and treats clients like file numbers. A practice treats people like human beings. We built systems for managing a high-volume caseload without ever losing sight of the person inside the file. Intake, case development, hearing preparation, client communication. Every piece of it has been refined over two decades of doing this work day in and day out.
I’ve assembled a team of caring, empathetic professionals who come to work for one reason: to help people improve their lives. We don’t judge our clients. We lift them up and encourage them forward. When a client reaches out to us for help, they are usually frustrated, confused, and scared. When they finish a call with us, we want them to feel respected, cared for, and understood by people who genuinely enjoy helping them.
We primarily serve clients throughout the Commonwealth of Virginia and Northeastern North Carolina. We handle multiple hearings every week before Social Security Administrative Law Judges. And I can train and mentor a less experienced attorney into becoming an expert in this field, because I’ve spent more than 20 years learning what works and what doesn’t.
Now I need to find the right person to step into this practice and help carry this work forward.
The Job
Let me be direct about what you’d actually be doing.
You would be a hearing attorney. That means you’ll be prepared for 12 or more administrative hearings per month. You will review claim files. You will prepare clients for their hearings. You will represent them before Administrative Law Judges. You will cross-examine vocational witnesses and dismantle dubious testimony about the number of jobs supposedly available in the national economy.
You will not be a potted plant at these hearings.
You will be an advocate. The kind of advocate who masters the medical record, understands the theory of each case, and thinks three moves ahead about what the judge or the vocational expert is going to focus on. The kind of advocate who walks into a difficult case, identifies what’s missing, creates a practical plan, and follows through without drama.
This is not easy work. It is deeply rewarding work.
Five Attorneys I Don’t Want to Hear From
Over 20 years, I’ve seen plenty of attorneys who have no business doing this work. Let me describe them so we don’t waste each other’s time.
The Glory Hound. This attorney sees every case as a stage and every hearing as a performance. It’s always about them. Their brilliance. Their argument. Their war story at the bar association mixer. Meanwhile the client is sitting there terrified, and the support staff is cleaning up messes the Glory Hound can’t be bothered with. We work as a team here. If you need your name in lights, this isn’t for you.
The Fossil. This attorney learned how to practice law one way and has refused to update a single thing since. New case management software? They’ll pass. A better process for preparing hearing briefs? They like the old way. Technology that helps us serve clients faster and more effectively? Sounds like a hassle. Listen, I’ve been doing this for more than 20 years. If I can keep evolving, so can you. If you can’t, we’re not a match.
The File Processor. This attorney sees a client and thinks “claim number.” They see a denial and thinks “paperwork.” They have never once wondered what it feels like to be 56 years old, unable to work, unable to pay for your medication, watching your family fall apart while a government agency tells you you’re fine. If you cannot see the human being inside the file, you will fail at this job. And worse, you will fail the people who need you most.
The Lone Wolf. This attorney does not play well with others. They don’t communicate with staff. They don’t share information. They don’t build relationships with referring attorneys or community resources. They want to do their thing, in their corner, on their terms. That’s fine for some practices. Not for ours. We stand shoulder-to-shoulder here. If that sounds like a burden to you rather than a strength, please keep scrolling.
The Short-Timer. This attorney has no interest in building anything. They want a paycheck and a title, and they’ll be gone the moment something shinier comes along. They don’t think about where this practice will be in five years. They don’t care about training, mentoring, or growth. They certainly don’t care about continuity. I’ve spent two decades building something that matters. I need someone who wants to build with me, not someone who’s passing through.
The Attorney I Actually Want
Now that I’ve cleared the room, let me describe who should still be standing.
The right attorney for this role combines compassion with discipline, preparation with judgment, and confidence with humility. Clients trust them. Judges respect them. Staff are relieved to work with them.
You treat clients like people. You understand that the person sitting across from you is often scared, discouraged, and overwhelmed. You know how to be calm, respectful, and compassionate without being sloppy or sentimental. You recognize that some of our clients are battling addictions, mental illness, or circumstances that others might judge. You don’t judge. You help.
You prepare like your client’s life depends on it. Because it does. You don’t wing hearings. You don’t bluff through weak evidence. You don’t rely on generic arguments. You learn the medical record. You understand the theory of the case. You think ahead. When you walk into that hearing room, you are ready.
You exercise sound judgment. You can tell the difference between a case that needs more development, a case that needs a clear hearing strategy, and a case where the client needs honest counseling rather than false hope. You don’t just identify problems. You solve them.
You believe this work matters. You understand that winning benefits can help a person keep their housing, obtain treatment, or regain some stability and dignity. That’s not just a nice thought to you. It’s the reason you show up.
You make the people around you better. You communicate well with staff. You respect our systems. You welcome feedback. You don’t bring drama. You bring solutions. You make the whole team stronger, not harder to manage.
If reading this list feels like looking in a mirror, we need to talk.
Where You’d Be
Our main office is in Williamsburg, Virginia, which happens to be a wonderful place to live. History, charm, great restaurants, the coast nearby, and a great place to raise a family.
Ideally, you’d live in central or eastern Virginia, or you’d be willing to relocate.
That said, I’m open to the right person working remotely, as long as you can handle in-person hearings across our region from Maryland down through North Carolina. If you’re the attorney I’ve been describing in this ad and you’re already somewhere in that corridor, geography won’t be the thing that stops our conversation.
What You’ll Actually Get
Let me be specific, because vague promises are worthless.
Real experience, fast. You’ll be in hearings regularly. Not someday. Not after two years of document review. You will represent real clients before real judges, and you will do it often.
A team that has your back. You’ll work alongside people who genuinely care about our clients and who want you to succeed. We’ve built systems that anticipate client needs before they become emergencies. You won’t be figuring it all out on your own.
A practice that runs on systems, not chaos. After 20 years of refining how we do things, our processes actually work. Intake, case management, hearing prep, client communication. You won’t be drowning in disorganization. You’ll be practicing law.
Work that matters. You won’t spend your days helping corporations maximize profits. You’ll spend them helping real people get the benefits they earned so they can keep a roof over their family’s heads. Every case is a person. Every win changes a life.
Room to grow. I’m not looking for someone content to stay in the same role forever. This practice is at a point where the right attorney can take on real responsibility and have a meaningful impact on where we go from here. I want someone with ideas, energy, and the ambition to help build something that serves more people and serves them better.
The Strange Truth About This Ad
Most attorneys don’t know Social Security disability law exists. The ones who do often underestimate it. They don’t realize you need a working knowledge of orthopedics, neurology, psychiatry, cardiology, and a dozen other specialties. They don’t realize you’re appearing before a judge multiple times a week, fighting for people who have no one else in their corner.
The attorney who is right for this role is probably already working somewhere. Maybe doing work that pays fine but doesn’t mean anything. Maybe helping people but dreaming of a better team, better systems, a better way to practice. They probably aren’t scanning job boards right now. That’s exactly why I wrote this.
Here’s What To Do Next
Don’t send me a resume with a form cover letter. I’ve read a thousand of those and they all say the same thing.
Instead, send me an email and tell me why you think you’d be a good choice for this role. Tell me about a moment when this kind of work mattered to you. Tell me what kind of attorney you want to become. Be honest. Be specific. Be yourself.
Send it to: [email protected]
Or, if you’d rather talk in person, I’ll be at the NOSSCR 2026 Spring National Conference in Baltimore, April 21–24. Find me. Introduce yourself. Buy me a coffee or let me buy you one. Sometimes the best conversations happen face to face.
Brian J. Gillette
Gillette Law Group, PLLC
Williamsburg, Virginia
P.S. If you’re not the right attorney for this, you probably know someone who is. Send them this ad. The right person might not be looking, but they’ll know this was written for them the moment they read it.
