The legal profession is not always easy for idealistic nomads like me. Since there is no reciprocity early in one’s legal career, I have taken and passed 4 bar examinations since law school graduation in 2003. My moving can only be explained by failed relationships and the quest for a grand opportunity to contribute something meaningful to the world (WARNING: NEVER ADMIT THIS TO A POTENTIAL EMPLOYER!). I have become a drifter of sorts, moving from state to state searching for answers.
Recently I have been trying to reconnect with that opinionated younger version of myself who would argue with anyone, who would never take no for an answer, who wanted to change the world, and who said she would never change. I have been looking for that girl who believed as she wrote in her law school admission essay that she would be voice of her generation, fighting for female equality, battling social injustice, and making the world at least a little better for everyone.
At some point in time, I must have bought into the idea that I had to wait to be called on before I could speak, that I had to wait until some big law firm accepted me as an associate and paid me hundreds of thousands of dollars a year before I could be respected as an attorney, that my one voice alone was not worthy of anyone’s ear. It is ridiculous that I, like so many young lawyers who went to law school to gain knowledge and add strength to my crusade, allowed myself to be silenced when there are so many things that need to be said. When did I forget that it was my job to be the voice of regular everyday people. For a minute, I foolishly bought into the propaganda spread by my profession and allowed myself to feel helpless, drifting from place to place. I had forgotten that it is a lawyer’s brain, words, and time that are her value and not a fancy office or the name on the letterhead. I have felt sorry for myself, when I am so not a victim.
I am a 30 year old attorney living in Chicago working as a temp at a law firm. Of course this is not where I began my legal career. After graduating from law school, I joined a mid-size litigation firm on the east coast. This was the job that my then boyfriend (who is now my ex-husband) wanted, but he mistakenly mailed both of our resumes to the firm. We both interviewed for the job, and despite my best efforts, I was offered the position. Even though I had no interest in the practice area, I thought I had to take it out of fear that I would never get another opportunity. I quickly found myself working in a position that was so far removed from anything I was ever willing to do in my entire life that I had to walk away after only 6 months. Since then, I have supported myself quite well through contract jobs. It is empowering to know when you don’t want to do something and to be willing to walk away. However, this is not something appreciated by others in my profession who think that one must be certifiably insane to give up an opportunity to work with a firm without having the fabled year of experience (regardless of whether or not you want experience in whatever it is that firm is practicing!) or without having another permanent position safely waiting for you. I never played with safety nets, so I took a chance. Hindsight being what it is, I still don’t regret leaving that job (or my ex-husband for that matter), but I do regret allowing myself to get bullied into questioning my own judgment. If I had allowed others to make my life decisions for me prior to law school, I would probably never have made it through undergrad and would be living in the south married to a redneck with 5 kids in a trailer parked in my parents’ backyard (there is absolutely nothing wrong with this, it’s just a far cry from where I am today!)…but I digress. I made the decisions that I made for whatever reasons I made them and those decisions led me to different places, different relationships, and of course different bar exams. These were not easy choices. That’s all I know or am willing to share, and I shouldn’t have to give more.
I am a very capable woman from humble beginnings who has managed to build an above average life wherever I have ventured with extremely limited financial resources and with limited or non-existent social networks. I always pull myself together and keep moving forward. I know I don't fit the mold of a traditional lawyer, but I know there is a place for me in this world.
Recently I have been trying to reconnect with that opinionated younger version of myself who would argue with anyone, who would never take no for an answer, who wanted to change the world, and who said she would never change. I have been looking for that girl who believed as she wrote in her law school admission essay that she would be voice of her generation, fighting for female equality, battling social injustice, and making the world at least a little better for everyone.
At some point in time, I must have bought into the idea that I had to wait to be called on before I could speak, that I had to wait until some big law firm accepted me as an associate and paid me hundreds of thousands of dollars a year before I could be respected as an attorney, that my one voice alone was not worthy of anyone’s ear. It is ridiculous that I, like so many young lawyers who went to law school to gain knowledge and add strength to my crusade, allowed myself to be silenced when there are so many things that need to be said. When did I forget that it was my job to be the voice of regular everyday people. For a minute, I foolishly bought into the propaganda spread by my profession and allowed myself to feel helpless, drifting from place to place. I had forgotten that it is a lawyer’s brain, words, and time that are her value and not a fancy office or the name on the letterhead. I have felt sorry for myself, when I am so not a victim.
I am a 30 year old attorney living in Chicago working as a temp at a law firm. Of course this is not where I began my legal career. After graduating from law school, I joined a mid-size litigation firm on the east coast. This was the job that my then boyfriend (who is now my ex-husband) wanted, but he mistakenly mailed both of our resumes to the firm. We both interviewed for the job, and despite my best efforts, I was offered the position. Even though I had no interest in the practice area, I thought I had to take it out of fear that I would never get another opportunity. I quickly found myself working in a position that was so far removed from anything I was ever willing to do in my entire life that I had to walk away after only 6 months. Since then, I have supported myself quite well through contract jobs. It is empowering to know when you don’t want to do something and to be willing to walk away. However, this is not something appreciated by others in my profession who think that one must be certifiably insane to give up an opportunity to work with a firm without having the fabled year of experience (regardless of whether or not you want experience in whatever it is that firm is practicing!) or without having another permanent position safely waiting for you. I never played with safety nets, so I took a chance. Hindsight being what it is, I still don’t regret leaving that job (or my ex-husband for that matter), but I do regret allowing myself to get bullied into questioning my own judgment. If I had allowed others to make my life decisions for me prior to law school, I would probably never have made it through undergrad and would be living in the south married to a redneck with 5 kids in a trailer parked in my parents’ backyard (there is absolutely nothing wrong with this, it’s just a far cry from where I am today!)…but I digress. I made the decisions that I made for whatever reasons I made them and those decisions led me to different places, different relationships, and of course different bar exams. These were not easy choices. That’s all I know or am willing to share, and I shouldn’t have to give more.
I am a very capable woman from humble beginnings who has managed to build an above average life wherever I have ventured with extremely limited financial resources and with limited or non-existent social networks. I always pull myself together and keep moving forward. I know I don't fit the mold of a traditional lawyer, but I know there is a place for me in this world.
