Positive Law

Positive Law is a humble effort by the University of Michigan Career Center to offer inspiration to those individuals who, after careful evaluation of their aspirations and the current realities of legal education and practice, wish to pursue a career in law.  The words of encouragement come from heartfelt testimonials by recent and not-so-recent graduates from a variety of law schools across the United States, who were invited to reflect upon their experiences in law school and beyond.  We hope you will enjoy reading these first initial entries.  Stay tuned for more additions in the months to come.

If you too have a positive story to contribute to the Positive Law initiative, please contact the [email protected] for submission instructions.


For additional perspectives from other satisfied law practitioners, check:

Why I Love Being a Lawyer

 

I wake up every single morning excited as can be because I have the privilege of working as a Deputy Public Defender for the County of Los Angeles.

I have wanted to be a lawyer for as long as I can remember and it always has been my belief that the job which best epitomizes being a lawyer, is that of a Public Defender. No other job provides a lawyer with the opportunity to represent the weakest and most disadvantaged members of our society against the most powerful and privileged force in society.

When I first began work in the office, I felt I was not qualified or experienced enough to attempt a job which I could only dream and fantasize about.  My foray into indigent defense began with a series of debacles too numerous to mention.  I gradually, however, was able to develop and improve as a trial lawyer because of the wisdom, knowledge, advice, and support offered by literally hundreds of my fellow Public Defenders.  I learned from all of them, by watching, listening, and talking to them, and by seeking, obtaining, and following their advice and guidance.  They always have been for me a perpetual source of knowledge, encouragement, support, and inspiration. 

It is from my fellow Public Defenders that I have learned how to both confront as well as overcome whatever obstacles lie in the path of justice for our clients, be it from the police, judges, prosecutors, or on occasion even society.  It is through my colleagues’ collective passion, commitment, and tempered defiance that has served as a model that I have always attempted to follow and will follow for the duration of my career.

On a personal level, my passion for criminal justice is reaffirmed every time I look back and think that it could easily have been me as a client instead of counselor. Growing up in the almost-exclusive immigrant community of Monterey Park, California, with gangs and having some of my best friends caught up in the system really showed me that good people sometimes do bad things out of necessity.  We all have a favorite athlete, musician, politician, etc. because we want to feel a sense of belonging and affinity with something greater than ourselves.  But, when new immigrants come over to the country, their main priority is to survive and ensure their children's lives are better than their own.  Parents work long hours and tough jobs, leaving children with no guidance or support or protection, which in turn, leads to seeking refuge through crime and a sense of belonging through gangs.  It is not the right way, but a lot of times, it seems like the only way.  So, in that sense, I understood that good people sometimes do bad things and that crimes should be evaluated from a socio-economic-cultural standpoint, as opposed to it being just black and white.

Plus, if you are competitive, as I am, it is the ultimate thrill.  It is the classic David vs. Goliath:  all the resources of the government versus you and your client.  A Public Defender’s job is to see to it that the man or woman who stands under scrutiny does not stand alone.  Being a Public Defender can be a thankless job at times; your family doubts your sanity, the public questions your role, the other side despises you, and often, even clients hate you.  However clicheish as it sounds though, I just sought to be a voice for the voiceless and defend the defenseless.  We have to rehabilitate - locking people up and throwing away the keys is not the answer.  It starts with rehabilitation, prevention, school, educational programs, etc.  Yes, we do defend people who may seem guilty and repulsive, but we have to ask why they did it, instead of just focusing on what they did.  I want to change that, and that is why I think that public defense is the most noble legal career path an attorney can choose to: love what they do and help make a difference.

In closing, a legal education and career can be the most fulfilling endeavor in the world and my dream of being a Public Defender is now a daily reality.  I urge any of you with even an inkling of interest to explore this wonderfully rewarding profession.

Jimmy Chu, UC Berkeley School of Law, ‘10, Deputy Public Defender

Why I would do it all over again. A mere one hundred days: that is all that separates me from receiving my J.D. diploma. And at that time, my law school career will be officially over. It may seem that my countdown represents my distaste for law school and my incessant desire to leave it all behind. But this is only partially true. While I am elated to be moving on from law school, it is not because I have disliked it or have always wanted to leave. It is because I have brighter things ahead of me; brighter things that only exist because of my legal education.

Like most students, I came to law school with big dreams. And as is often the case, my big dreams were entirely vague with no concrete detail. I wanted to do something important, help people, and be an expert. Beyond that, I was clueless as to what I wanted to do with my legal career. Of course, I faked it, as nearly all law students do initially, acting like I had my entire life figured out, for fear that I may be the only law student who did not know what she wanted to do with her life. But after the first month of law school, the facades fell away, and I realized that I was in the company of students just like me: intelligent and motivated, but entirely unsure of myself in every way imaginable. We all feared everything, from being called on in class to failing our exams, and this was all before we had to interview with law firms, try our hand at internships, and look for a post-graduation job.

With time, the fear subsided. But it was replaced with something different: a constant uneasiness. I can honestly say I have been uncomfortable nearly every day of my law school career. Again, while that statement may seem to suggest that I have disliked law school, quite the opposite is true; I have absolutely loved it. I mean the word uncomfortable in the most positive sense. I have been stretched and challenged, emotionally, physically, and mentally, beyond what I could have imagined. But through that process, which was not always pretty, I was transformed and refined. I am a better version of myself. I am stronger, more confident, and eager to take on the world.

Following graduation, I will start my career as an associate in a commercial law firm. And even thinking about those first few weeks of practice brings back that uneasiness that has followed me throughout law school. But when I think about it logically, which law school has trained me to do, I know I am well-equipped for the journey ahead. Of course, I will not know all of the substantive law or even where the break room is located. But I will know this: it is ok that I do not know everything, I am capable of learning, and most importantly, I do not have to fear what makes me uncomfortable. 

My Unconventional Path To – and Through - Law School.  My journey to law school  - and through law school  - was as unconventional as they come.  Prior to entering law school, I worked as a cancer researcher and as a science education researcher.  I discovered my interest in law while I was pursuing a Master of Public Administration degree, and enrolled in law school after I received my MPA.

During my first year of law school, I realized that my science background was well-suited for a career in intellectual property law.  After completing foundational courses in Patent Law, Trademark Law, and Copyright Law, among other areas, I earned a Certificate in Intellectual Property Law.  Through the Black Law Students’ Association, I participated in community outreach, and as part of the Moot Court Honors Board, I competed in moot court competitions around the country.  While in law school, I was also working part-time and raising a family.  Yet, I did everything I could do to prepare myself to one day be the lawyer I am today. 

Graduating from law school was just the beginning of my journey.  Through a connection I made with an alumnus from my law school, I was hired as an Associate at a boutique intellectual property law firm.  I see now that my career path before law school was necessary to get me to where I am today. 

Unlike many others, I did not always know that I wanted to be a lawyer.  As a first-generation graduate of a four-year university, I was also the first in my family to earn a graduate degree, and am the only holder of a doctorate-level degree.  In spite of the many odds that I had to overcome, I know that I am where I was meant to be. 

Recently, pursuing a career in law has been portrayed as making a risky bet; however, for those who love being an advocate through spoken and written word, law is a great career choice.  No matter what career path you choose, if you do something you love and something you are good at, you will find a way to make a living doing it.  I love the law and my hope is that many others like me will love it too, and continue to pursue this field even in the face of adversity and naysayers.   

What did I love about law school? The people.  That may be surprising because lawyers aren’t generally thought to be congenial, charming, or even pleasant. And if my answer isn’t surprising to you, it was to me. A month before I started law school, a lawyer told me, “If you graduate law school with three friends, you’ll be lucky.” In the first weeks of the semester, however, I sensed that this jaded lawyer may be mistaken.  

After going to a huge undergraduate college, I was terrified by the idea of small “sections” of people with whom I would have my first semester classes. What if they were horrible?  What if they were too cutthroat? What if people tore pages out of books in the library? I was resolved to go through law school alone. After all, I wasn’t there to make friends.  When I arrived at law school orientation in my business casual attire, I was completely intimidated by my peers.  These students had already done incredible things—they lived in exotic locations, held fancy jobs, spoke multiple languages, published articles at top undergraduate institutions. One of them was only 19 years-old. Another was a Korean pop star. I thought I would be fighting to survive.

As the weeks passed, however, I actually enjoyed law school because of those intimidating people. Many believe practicing law is monastic: sitting in a chair, researching and reading, writing and editing. Law school is not like that.  There are study groups, clinics, volunteer opportunities, extra-curricular activities like choir and sports, and of course, the weekly tradition of bar review.  In class, my peers enriched the lectures with their comments and questions. There was banter! There was laughter! I quickly learned that my fellow students, even those who weren’t necessarily Miss or Mister Congeniality, were interesting and interested.

Now, that is not to say that we were all best friends who hung out in the atrium singing songs and high-fiving each other. But at my law school, there is a sense of community that I don’t think exists at undergraduate colleges (except perhaps on football game days). I was amazed at the support and encouragement people in my section gave to one another. Here are some examples: sending me notes if I missed a class, before I even had to ask (Ryan, Delilah, & Samantha); offering their couches to me during finals week first semester when a disgusting bug infestation made my apartment (and some others in my building) uninhabitable (Megan & Jess); sending me congratulatory emails when they heard about a trial team victory (too many to list); sharing outlines (Zach, Matt, & Laura, among many others); helping me when I was called on in class and completely froze (Federico & Andy); encouraging me to try out for trial team which I made, thanks to Owen), apply for a clerkship (which I have, thanks to Karim & Ann), and seek a summer associate position at a top law firm (which I got, thanks to Mike).  These small things add up, and in the end, they created a sense of community in an environment that I feared would be hostile.  Talking about “a sense of community” may sound like something from an admissions brochure. In fact, my school even has a name for that “sense” smattered all over its brochures. But it is absolutely tangible.  Now that I’m in the fourth year and final year of my dual degree program, the students I started with have graduated. It’s just me. And when I walk into the law school, it literally feels different.

It feels different, that is, until I run into one of my “presents.” These “presents” are the professors I consider to be gifts to the school, to me, and to every other student they have had. They are more than teachers; they are mentors who have changed my life.  That may sound like another grandiose claim, so again I’ll share some specific examples.  My criminal law and civil procedure professors wrote notes to each of their students throughout the semester after a student made an insightful point in class. During his office hours, my torts professor made an effort to get to know students by asking about their background, family, and aspirations. Of course, there are a few professors who are perhaps not as memorable for their friendliness or compassion. But when I reflect on law school, those professors actually don’t come to mind.  Instead, I remember the hours my trial advocacy and evidence professors took outside of class to help me advance my skills. I recall the time spent in their offices, laughing at their jokes and learning what it meant to be an honest and zealous advocate. Then there is the clinical professor who called me a year after I took her class.  The professor noticed I was on the waiting list for a popular clinic in which students go to Malawi.  She offered to supervise me so the lead professor would agree to expand the class’s capacity. As a result, I went to Malawi this fall. I remember the time another professor took to send me an email for no particular reason, extolling what he thought were my talents. And then there is my trial team coach, who dedicated literally months of his life to our trial team, teaching us everything he knows about advocacy, the law, and life.  I had all of these experiences not because of who I am, but because of who they are. Despite what my mother says, I’m really nothing special. I am neither a 19 year-old prodigy nor a famous pop star. And I know many of my friends from school have had similar experiences with their own “presents.”

When I think about law school, it’s not the images of exams, books, or grades that come to mind. Instead, I see the faces of the friends I have made (luckily, many more than three) and the professors—the gifts—I will never forget.

During law school there were many times in which I questioned my priorities (and quite often my sanity) by being extensively involved in many co-curricular and extra-curricular organizations and community projects.

I'm realizing as a practicing lawyer, that the friendships and networks established through these organizations, along with the leadership and public speaking opportunities, were invaluable.  Whether it's being able to seek out advice from friends, vent during a rough day, refer perspective clients to the right person, or to facilitate the litigation process, it's nice to have a network of people who in turn have a network of people that I can reach out to.

The legal community is a small one with a "six degrees of Kevin Bacon"-type matrix.  I think it's especially important for young lawyers to be able to reach out when they have questions, especially considering that most of us have trouble with the concept of looking stupid to bosses and fellow co-workers.

In short, I'm glad I took advantage of as many experiences as my sleep- deprived self could barely handle.  Ultimately the law is more enjoyable for me because I can connect with other people in it who I'm lucky enough to often call friends.

I would also suggest to law students to get involved in team-oriented organizations, such as Trial Team and Moot Court.  As a medical malpractice defense litigator, I can tell you that I often look back to lessons learned and styles practiced during Trial Team.  It was definitely worth it. It helps put the theory of the classes into practice and the relationships you build while competing together are stronger as a result.

Five years ago, as I finished my coursework to receive a master’s degree in criminal justice, I told anyone who asked that I had no interest in going to law school.  I had heard all about the endless and often tedious reading, the professors who expected students to know as much as they did when each class started, and, worst of all, the greedy and unethical attorneys who emerged fully formed from the crucible.  From my perspective, it was an easy choice to avoid the misery and student loan debt that would come with a degree that seemed to pale in comparison.

I began working as an assistant to a retired attorney whom I met while getting my master’s degree.  He taught several of my courses and is a nationally-renowned expert in corrections litigation and the constitutional mandates for conditions of confinement.  My boss, of course, thought my law school phobia was nonsense and set out to convince me.  I held strong for months, until one day my boss told me about a conversation he had with a friend of his who is an attorney specializing in bankruptcy law for a law firm in Chicago.  The two of them had a steady jesting back-and-forth about the distastefulness of the other’s line of work – my boss was accused of coddling criminals, while his friend was accused of spending each day moving rich people’s money around in order to permit them to avoid paying their debts. 

During this particular conversation, however, the friend protested.  He reported that he had spent the entire day in court finalizing negotiations with the bankruptcy trustee for a manufacturing company.  After many hours “moving rich people’s money around,” they were able to reach an agreement that preserved over 200 jobs at one of the company’s plants in northern Illinois.  Given the worsening economic climate, those 200 employees likely would not have found similar replacement employment, which would have meant countless spouses, children, and other family members would have lost a substantial source of support.  The friend argued that, on the improving-humanity scale, this bankruptcy agreement wasn’t far from the prisoners’ civil rights litigation on which my boss and I worked. 

It was not exactly a eureka moment, but the story served as a vivid reminder that an attorney need not slash and burn his way to a bigger bonus or a fast-track share in the firm’s partnership.  Success and ethics are not mutually exclusive in law more than they are in any other field.  Both, however, are individual responsibilities.

Law school by far was the most difficult educational experience of my life, and I began my college career majoring in chemistry and studying multi-vector calculus.  Even at my short remove from law school, though, I consider the difficulty to be perhaps the most necessary part of the experience.  It is far better to labor and at times scramble through day after day of cases and classes when the consequence of failing is retaking the course than when the consequence is explaining to your friend how the agreement you negotiated left 200 people without jobs.  While difficult, law school prepared me to contribute, through the knowledge I gained and the skills I refined, in ways I never contemplated before applying.  

I went to law school as so many people before me, with the idea that I was “keeping my options open”.  This proved to be half-myth half-true, but I’ve been very glad I pursued this path.  When I graduated from college, I rejected the idea of pursuing graduate education in my undergraduate major field (comparative literature) because, even though I liked the idea of teaching, I wanted to do something more engaged with the world.  Although I loved literature, I didn’t want a career that meant becoming the expert on one minor Italian Renaissance poet.  I also figured that whatever type of work I pursued, I’d need further training either on the job or in school.  Because I enjoyed being a student, the idea of getting that training through a graduate or professional education was attractive.  Law and law school seemed like a good fit for me because the study and practice of law would allow me to use my background reading texts closely but allow me to be more engaged with the world.  But I didn’t really know what a career in law would mean or what kind of career I’d want.  I had vague thoughts that something international might interest me, but I didn’t have a good idea of what that would entail.

In a sense, law school did keep my options open.  After practicing with a law firm that had a large administrative law practice for three or four years, I decided to pursue a career in law teaching.  Since that time, I’ve taught law, directed an environmental and land use law program, and now serve as associate dean at a law school. In other words, law school did open the door for to career paths other than just practicing law.  But the fact remains that what law school prepares you best for and what most law school graduates do with a law degree is practice law.  So I encourage others to think a little harder than I did about how they want to use a law degree.  I was fortunate, but law school is a big commitment of time and money, and I don’t encourage anyone to make the decision lightly.  But for the right person, it can be a wonderful education, and law can open the way for a rewarding career.

What I like most about my job is helping law students to discover a path in law that will enable them to use their talents and their passion.  The practice of law is diverse in many ways.  It’s not just diverse because of the diversity in the substantive areas of law in which one can practice (like family law or corporate law or environmental law), but also in what kind of clients a lawyer has, what setting the lawyer works in, the size of the office, the goals and shared values of one’s professional colleagues -- all of these vary dramatically from lawyer to lawyer.  One lawyer may represent children in neglect and dependency proceedings.  Another may represent corporations in mergers or acquisitions of other companies.  A third may advise a government agency in developing and implementing rules to govern food safety.  A fourth may help individuals with a lot of different matters from drafting a will to obtaining a divorce, to dealing with a creditor.  One may be in court daily, the next may work on complex business transactions and spend a lot of time on the phone or in negotiations.  The third may spend most of her time in collaborative working groups and team meetings.  And the fourth may spend a lot of time meeting with clients in person, providing them advice, and drafting correspondence and documents.  One lawyer may work in a small non-profit with a handful of other lawyers who all share a passion for an issue like protecting children.  Another may be in a firm of a thousand lawyers spread across the globe; the third may work for the federal government in an agency with 500 employees who are scientists, economists and administrators who are advised by a general counsel’s office staffed by ten lawyers; and the last may work with one other lawyer or in a firm of twenty-five. 

But the common theme is that lawyers help people.  Often this takes the form of helping to structure client’s dealings with others in the world -- whether it’s helping a client through the processes of a difficult family transition like a divorce, helping a multinational corporation structure its relationship with a subsidiary or resolve a dispute with a competitor, or helping an agency to fulfill its mandate to protect the public from unsafe foods.   So if you are thinking about law school, a good question to ask is this: what do you care about?  How do you want to help in the world and who do you want to help?  The answers to these questions may help to guide you as you decide whether to study law, where to study law, what courses to take, and what work experience to try to gain. You can learn about whether there are many or few jobs in the field that interests you, what it takes to get one, and what the life of a lawyer practicing in that field is like.  Sometimes, you’ll find that life surprises you and you land somewhere you didn’t anticipate, and are happy nonetheless.   But in general, I think asking these questions can help in deciding whether a career in law will be a good step for you.

I recently received the annual year-in-review letter from the Dean of my law school. As I read about the school’s four new clinics and five public interest scholars, I felt a sense of pride. But I didn’t go to law school to feel proud or prestigious, so where were these feelings coming from?

It certainly wasn’t because everything worked out perfectly for me either - a job didn’t fall in my lap and I graduated with $90,000 in student debt. But I didn’t go to law school to find a better-paying job. I went to law school to find a better job for me. And that I did. Looking back, maybe things did work out perfectly. My experiences during law school and the work I have been able to do after have given me abilities and confidence I’m not sure I would have found anywhere else.

I remember showing up on campus for orientation and being inspired by all the speeches – not a huge surprise since orientation speeches are meant to be inspiring. I was going to change the world with my law degree (didn’t everyone go to law school to change the world?).

Then came the mundane classes of 1L. Also, I realized that no, not everyone goes to law school to change the world. But I stuck around the people who had, and together, we got each other through. Here is my first positive: in law school, you probably won’t like some of your classmates, but the friends you do make will not only stand by your side during the dog days of law school, but will be part of your support network for the rest of your career (and life).

Second semester, things for my friends and I started looking up. We found student groups that mattered to us and provided opportunities to actually work in advocacy. In law school, you really need to immerse yourself in hands-on experiential learning. I remember participating in the General Relief Advocacy Project, supervised by Public Counsel in Los Angeles, through which volunteer law students visited social services sites and helped individuals and families overcome various barriers to secure the social services to which they were entitled.

I remember being a little intimidated (and a little surprised) at being allowed to carry out this work. But I also remember feeling empowered, and grateful to see the difference it made in people’s lives. Here’s my second positive: a license to practice law is something that gives you elite access to a system that touches everyone. You have the ability to make a difference in a unique way.

By the summer of my second year, I had a little more confidence in my ability to be a lawyer. But beyond that, I felt like I was changing as a person. All that cold calling and Socratic Method really forces you to overcome any inhibitions (and you learn how to back up anything you say). I guess that’s a positive too!

Second year was a lot more interesting in terms of classes. Reading civil rights and liberties cases in Constitutional Law II and Criminal Procedure kept me focused on why I was there (and I liked it!). And hands-on courses like Trial Advocacy continued to build my confidence. I began to believe that I could do this. I could counsel clients, I could stand up and advocate in front of a judge and jury (and all that technical procedure wasn’t that bad).  Here’s another positive: there’s nothing more intimidating than a judge who wants to be (they’re even seated on a riser), but you learn that being prepared (knowing what you’re talking about) is the ultimate tool. This is true not just in law, but in life.

The following summer, I clerked for a solo practitioner. During this time, I learned how to litigate (cool, right?). I learned how to write briefs that were straight-shooters, but strategic. You want to be a straight-shooter in life, but that doesn’t mean without filter. I also learned to put in ridiculous hours – and that those hours will pay off. Be honest, but smart, and give it your all. Law practice taught me that.

But the coolest thing I did that summer was initiated a legal aid clinic. My boss trusted me to advocate for clients. Some needed help with speeding tickets; others, bench warrants for not showing up; and still others, serious jail time. I didn’t work magic, but I learned the difference it makes to have someone on your side to help navigate the system – a big difference. The positive? No matter what you do in life, it always helps to have someone by your side. Your law license gives you the opportunity to do that in some dire circumstances.

Third year flew by and before I knew it I had graduated and was taking the bar. I mentioned earlier a job didn’t land in my lap. Maybe that’s because I didn’t want a “regular” job. I wanted to be a constitutional rights litigator – that’s not so run-of-the-mill. But I did find a job (and I loved it). I worked on first amendment and police misconduct cases. I also developed skills as an organizer advocating for change not just in the courts but in our communities.

So here’s the positive: Remember when I said I didn’t go to law school to find a better-paying job but a better job for me? I did, and law school gave me the tools to be successful. Go in with your eyes open. Law school doesn’t exist to help you make more money (though that may happen), it exists to give you a specific set of skills. You decide how to use them Know what you want to get from it. It’s true you can come out a broken person, but you can also come out a better person. That’s up to you.

Radhika Singh Miller is a program manager for Educational Debt Relief and Outreach at Equal Justice Works. She has served on student loan committees in the Department of Education's negotiated rulemaking focusing on the College Cost Reduction and Access Act (CCRAA) and other debt relief initiatives. Radhika graduated from Loyola Law School Los Angeles. Prior to joining Equal Justice Works, she was a staff attorney at the Partnership for Civil Justice, focusing on constitutional and civil rights litigation and advocacy.

Empowerment.  I do just laugh when I hear claims that a legal education and practice isn’t worth the value anymore.  In my mind, these claims must be directly from a non-legally educated and practicing professional, because every legal professional knows and has felt the value.

Here is my story:

While I did receive a Masters in International Development, I never truly felt ready to fight for the rights of others until I received my law degree.  After that education, I became the ultimate and strategic problem solver, which my Masters colleagues could never seem to obtain.  For example, while working down in Guatemala to help deported Guatemalan immigrants to reintegrate into Guatemalan society and resolve their legal needs, I encountered a recently deported woman.  She lived in the United States for 13 years, had 3 beautiful children and a loving spouse.  However, due to a speeding ticket, she was quickly deported back to Guatemala with a prohibition to return to the United States for 20 years.  I can remember the tears rolling down her face as she tried to understand how she could be uprooted from her home and what would happen to her children.  That was by far the most I’ve ever hugged a client, but to no avail; mere empathy was not going to help her problem.  I investigated long and hard on her case and, while it was clear she could not safely and legally return to the United States, I was able to advocate for and bring her family to Guatemala permanently.  Through great work with the Embassies, I was able to give the children dual citizenship status.  Further, through coordination with local actors, I was able help to find her and her husband jobs in their hometown.  In the end, she was happier than ever to reconnect with extended family in Guatemala and have her family with her.  It was by far extremely rewarding to reunite a family and I know for a fact, that without my legal knowledge and the amazing analytical and problem solving capabilities that a legal education provided me, I would have undeniably struggled to find a solution for her. 

Katrina Mason joined Equal Justice Works as a Program Manager in September 2012.  Her passion for helping others spans both the domestic and international arena, where she has worked on immigration, public benefits, and human rights topics in the U.S., Latin America, and Asia.  Katrina previously held roles at the International Organization for Migration and the U.S. Department of Commerce, among others; she also founded The Cultural Component.  Katrina offers a variety of academic experience in legal and community development, including a published piece in the Journal of International Peace Operations, and experience teaching at Universidad Francisco Marroquin in Guatemala and Global Legal Education Institute.  Katrina is a licensed attorney, and she holds a J.D. from Catholic University’s Columbus School of Law, a Masters in International Development from American University’s SIS, and B.A. in Law & Society and Public Relations from Purdue University.

How a legal education has affected my worldview:  Law school has taught me a completely different way of thinking.  I have acquired new analysis tools that allow me to dissect each argument.  The skills I've learned are practical and have been quickly put to use in various classes, externships, and jobs.  I absolutely love when I am able to experience the direct pay off of my legal education as I put my knowledge to use in a practical context.

The best case I ever had:   As a student, the best case I ever had was one I had during my trial practice course.  I was acting as the state in a first-degree murder case.  I spent many hours preparing for the trial, researching case law for preliminary matters, working with my witnesses.  The reward of going through the entire trial and earning a favorable verdict was amazing.  It was great to know that my hard work had paid off and that I was able to communicate effectively with the jury to serve justice.  

How I help people:   As a law student, I am currently helping people as I participate as a Certified Legal Intern at UF's Family Law Clinic.  I take on my own cases and represent clients that may be up to 200% below poverty level.  I feel a sense of purpose when I am able to use what I have learned to help others.  My clients are incredibly thankful for the work that I am able to offer.  Being a Certified Legal Intern allows me to advocate for the less fortunate-- what a reward!

Taqdeer Bana Do – Make Your Future  As I hunkered down to scrutinize a financing agreement while enjoying a cup of chai and street-treat called vada pav, I realized my first summer of law school had taken an exciting turn—I was working as a summer associate with a law firm in Mumbai, India.

Prior to entering law school, I worked in the financial services industry and observed the interconnected nature of global financial markets firsthand.  As I transitioned into my future legal career, I aimed to obtain educational and practical legal experience both in the United States and abroad. I hoped that greater fluency in foreign legal systems would expand my knowledge of regulations impacting U.S. and foreign businesses.  Northwestern Law’s reputation and resources positioned me well for a variety of international opportunities. 

During my first year of law school, a Northwestern Law alumnus recruited students for summer employment at her law firm’s Mumbai office. I was thrilled to accept a job with the firm.  A trip to India as a tourist a few years earlier had left me intrigued by India’s rich and diverse culture.  With its burgeoning middle class and continued liberalization of foreign direct investment laws, India’s economic presence in the global community was growing steadily.  Given this period of persistent economic development, I believed that immersing myself in India’s legal and business environment would prove to be a valuable and lasting learning experience. During my time at the Mumbai firm, I worked on a number of substantive financing and securities related matters.  Some of my most memorable experiences were the daily interactions I had with Indian born and educated associates; it was exciting to be involved in Indian culture and compare our legal and political systems.

In addition to my first-year summer job in Mumbai, I received outstanding academic training at Northwestern Law on corporate law and regulation in the U.S. and abroad. For instance, my bankruptcy and restructuring course was taught by a business law scholar, Clinton Francis, and a private equity practitioner, Geoffrey Richards.  Rather than teaching the course through a textbook, the professors had students work through a real-life restructuring case. This exercise challenged students to analyze how the law can be used as a lever to take a company from insolvency to profitability.  I also explored my personal interest in foreign regulatory structures by preparing a comparative analysis of derivatives regulation in the United States and the European Union in a course taught by Professor David Ruder (a former Chairman of the United States Securities and Exchange Commission). These are just a couple examples of the elective coursework offered at Northwestern that laid a strong academic foundation for my future career in corporate law.

My engagement with India and the Northwestern community continues even after my graduation from the law school.  As a third-year student, I was awarded a 2012-2013 Fulbright-Nehru grant to research the role of law in the development of corporate social responsibility in India.  In preparing my Fulbright application, I was gratified by the support I received by the faculty at the Law School.  Professors Kristen Stilt and Dorothy Roberts gave me continuous guidance throughout the application process. Professor David Ruder offered great support on regulatory concepts related to my project and Northwestern LLM students from India assisted me in preparing for the logistical aspects of living in New Delhi.

As I reflect back on the law school application process, I am happy that I decided to pursue a degree in law and enroll at Northwestern.  While Northwestern Law fully met my academic expectations, it also opened the door to unexpected international opportunities.

I recall setting foot on the University of Michigan campus, and although I grew up nearly forty minutes away in nearby Detroit, Ann Arbor was worlds away from the community I called home.   Neither of my parents went to college, and after immigrating from Egypt in 1980, my youth and adolescence was characterized by moving from home to home, poverty, the divorce of my parents, and a less-than-stellar academic record through the beginning of high school.   Meriting admission to UM seemed more fantasy than reality for much of my life, until I envisioned how a career in law could transform my life, the circumstance of my family, the condition of communities in my hometown of Detroit, and the future trajectory of marginalized peoples at large.

I vividly recall receiving the fat, white envelope from UM.  The size of the envelope indicated that it was no rejection letter, yet the mere idea that I would become a Wolverine seemed surreal.  I read the letter to my mother, who instantly cried at the thought that her once-troubled son was admitted to one of the finest Universities in the country, and second, would soon be moving from home.  I knew that my life would change dramatically, and since that August 1997 day when I first walked into my dorm room in Thronson Hall in South Quad, it did.  Walking through the dorm room door was a life-changing portal that helped me transition from the poor child of a single parent, immigrant family, to a future lawyer.

The law empowered me with a better life, but also furnished me with a career and outlook to empower the lives of marginalized communities as a law student, practicing attorney, and an aspiring law professor today.  Studying Critical Race Theory at the UCLA School of Law helped me make sense of the discrimination my community endured after the 9/11 terrorist attacks – which took place only three weeks after my first year at the UCLA School of Law – and more importantly, equipped me with the intellectual and practical skills to combat it.

I have been fortunate to experience the law in its myriad dimensions.   Apart from merely offering me with a career, the law extended an opportunity to converge my profession with my commitment to making positive social change.  In addition, it included me to join an esteemed and vibrant community of thinkers, practitioners, advocates and leaders – whose cultural and intellectual diversity continually challenges my perspective, and compels me to think critically at every juncture of my career.  Without question, the UCLA School of Law community typifies the most vibrant aspects of this community, and having the good fortune to study law – and today be part of the faculty – continues to inspire me.

Although cliché, each and every professional opportunity I pursued arose from a genuine and deep commitment.  Whether it be promoting the rule of law in the Middle East and North Africa or investigating Islamic Finance products, affirmative action advocacy to public defense, a real labor of love led me to these areas of law, and subsequently, helped me procure coveted positions.  Furthermore, I made it a point to be an active and visible leader within these respective realms – even outside the formal bounds of the legal profession – networking with industry leaders within the public and private spheres, becoming an active voice in the media, and continuing in the spirit of activism that led me to the law in the first place. 

While Career Services helped me formulate prospective professional pathways, I took it upon myself to blaze a trail that aligned with my core legal interests, and in some instances, followed non-legal trajectories that led me to where I wanted to go as a lawyer.  In addition, I benefitted greatly from seeking the advice of mentors within the legal field, many of them UCLA Law faculty, who helped me formulate long-term career goals.  Coming from an immigrant, single-parent household, this mentorship was invaluable to my career progression and success.  

My time at UM is far more than merely the source of fond memory, but a testament to the transformative impact it had on my life.  I became a lawyer far before stepping foot on the UCLA campus, shaping the key skills inside and outside the classroom in Ann Arbor – inside the now historic classrooms at the Frieze Building and advocating for racial justice on the Diag, forging friendships with African, Latino and Jewish-American classmates at the Union and commencing my pathway toward law school after receiving my diploma in Chrysler Arena.  UM and the law together formed a covenant of personal empowerment that shaped me into an advocate, a lawyer, and a “leader” committed to making America its very “best.”   

After graduating from law school almost three years ago, I can say with all honesty that practicing law has yet to be boring.  I can always count on each day presenting new and different challenges.  After graduating from Michigan, I headed to Boston College Law School.  Law school was definitely the right choice for me.  It immerses students into an entirely different world with a new language and new way of thinking.  Even if I had not become a practicing lawyer after graduation, I would not have regretted my time in law school because it has truly changed my way of thinking about any problem. 

All law students should find something that they enjoy because it makes your three years spent there all the more meaningful.  For me, that was writing.  I looked for any opportunity I could to develop my writing.  Therefore, I became the editor-in-chief of a law journal.  Not only did that experience boost my resume, but it also provided me with the management experience I never had prior to that.

After law school, I chose to move to a smaller market in Providence, Rhode Island, instead of accepting my offer in New York.  Finding a job in a smaller market may seem daunting; however, when you have two great alumni networks to use, it is much simpler.  I reached out to both Michigan and Boston College alumni to learn more about the market in Providence.  I cannot count the numerous coffee meetings and lunches I had with those attorneys.  Through my networking efforts, I ended up getting to know a judge who was a Boston College alumnus.  Although he is a Notre Dame fan, he hired me (and another Michigan grad) for the year following my graduation as his clerk. 

As a result, I clerked for the two years following graduating from law school.  Clerking is such a great way to advance your career and, honestly, a lot of fun.  A clerk is on the decision-making side and, therefore, gains a better understanding for the entire legal process.  It is enormously helpful in my practice now. 

I am now a litigation associate at a medium size firm in Providence.  I look forward to coming in each day because I never know what is next.  When I was at Michigan, I only knew that I wanted to find a job that would never get boring, even when I am older.  I was spot on when I chose to be an attorney.  On any given day, I could be delving into some difficult research project, advising a client on their litigation options, arguing with opposing counsel, or drafting pleadings to be served on that party.  I also never know what kind of case I will be working on.  I have worked on patent cases, insurance defense cases, trade secret cases, and so on.  Litigation is also interesting because it is a constant logic game.  Every day is a different brainteaser.  Litigation requires an attorney to not only see the “big picture,” but also navigate through the little details to get there.  The competitive aspects of the law are also constantly exciting.  Litigation is the perfect way for me to combine my competitive spirit, academic side, and logic skills.

Finding a job out of law school has never been a concern of mine. I knew that becoming well versed in our country’s legal system would open up many doors to me in the future. Having both a bachelor degree and a professional degree in law makes me an appealing candidate for many job opportunities, many of which are not typical attorney positions. A common misconception among students applying to law school and those in law school is that there are no jobs out there. This is simply not true. First of all the market has picked up, and many of the larger firms are now hiring again. Second, there are many successful medium and small law firms that are growing at a modest pace adding many new attorneys. Third, a Juris Doctorate degree can propel you to many different careers in the government, non-profits, corporations, and many other organizations.

I was fortunate enough to work as a law clerk at two law firms during my first and second years of law school; one large and one small firm. Both firms indicated that I could stay on as a clerk until I passed the bar, at which point I would become an associate attorney. This experience was not unique to me. Many of my colleagues in law school were also offered similar opportunities, in fact I do not know of a fellow classmate who did not find legal work while in school. I was not interested in the areas of law practiced at the firms I worked at so I moved on to experience other opportunities. During employment in an environmental law clinic I realized that I wanted to work for the government and be a public servant. I am therefore breaking away from the typical post law school path in hopes of using my new legal expertise to assist the government.

I must admit that I was one of those people who, when applying to law school, thought all law school grads went on to work in big firms, made six figures, and had the most interesting cases and clients. It did not take long for me to realize that this was mostly a fantasy future. Sure, there are students who graduate and work for well respected firms, making big bucks, but you rarely hear about the long hours and tedious work that is bundled with those golden handcuffs. And unless you go to one of the more prestigious law schools, or are near the top of your class, this path will not be without its challenges. Law students and potential law students need to learn to be open-minded and flexible when it comes to employment opportunities post graduation. You may not land your dream job right away but use a combination of networking and other employment opportunities as stepping stones towards your ultimate goal.

I never intended to be a personal injury attorney or a foreclosure attorney, but I took jobs at firms that specialized in these areas to gain experience in the legal world. I am now in my final year of law school and job applications have taken precedence over everything else. I am applying to a number of positions with both the federal and state government, but I am also broadening my options by applying to firms, clerkships, companies, educational institutions, and non-profits. If I don’t land my dream government job right off the bat I am confident that the experience I gain from employment in any of these other sectors will make the second round much more promising.

Future law students do not need to get hung up on all the negativity surrounding the legal field. They simply need to keep their options open and determine how they can best tailor their work experiences to help achieve their goals.

When I was considering law school in 2008, people were still calling a law degree a safe, flexible degree.  "You can do anything with it," everyone would assure me "journalism, teaching, business, anything!"  Then, as I was preparing to send off my applications, the bottom fell out of the legal job market.  I sent my applications anyway.  After all, everyone told me you could use a J.D. for anything.

In hindsight, I don't know if I would advise students considering law school that a law degree is a good investment because it is flexible.  Instead, I would tell you that a law degree can be a good investment if it makes you flexible.  My law degree has afforded me experiences I would never have considered otherwise.  It has taught me that there is more than one path to being a lawyer.

As a 1L student, I had the opportunity to work as an extern in a federal district court in El Paso, Texas.  I observed a criminal jury trial, a civil bench trial, and, most importantly, the judge and her impressive clerks.  Six weeks later, I was working as an intern for the legal department of a well-known corporation.  I sat in on meetings with business people and visited a company's factory and warehouse.

The following year, I worked on a symposium celebrating the career of Justice John Paul Stevens for the Law Review.  I had the great honor of not only meeting the justice, but also helping to edit the work of academics and journalists.

As a summer associate in Washington, D.C., my classmates and I got to see real litigators at work.  We sat in on depositions, observed a mock jury exercise, and drafted complaints and briefs for pro bono cases.

This year, after graduation, I was fortunate enough to begin working for a well-respected law firm.  They start all associates off in a comprehensive training program.  This training allows us to practice assignments from nearly every group and teaches us the fundamentals of business before we start logging billable hours.  In eight weeks, I've improved my writing and research skills and learned the language of finance. 

These examples are not meant as a testament to my accomplishments.  Rather, they are a testament to the many ways to be a lawyer.  I've had the good fortune to learn from all kinds of lawyers who have taken all kinds of paths.  I observed the federal judge and the clerks that kept her chambers running smoothly.  I met the journalist who covered the Supreme Court for the New York Times.  I worked with the general counsel who had started at her company right after graduation from law school.  I took a class from a professor who worked as a speechwriter and political consultant.

These lawyers have shown me that even if you don't become a journalist, or a teacher, or a businessperson, as a lawyer you must be comfortable in any of these worlds.  Many lawyers are asked to do more than write a memo or argue a case.  A lawyer should be able to tour a factory and spot potential issues, draft press releases, or understand a client's business model.  In this service-oriented, ever changing profession, one of the few consistencies is the constant challenge of learning something new.  Thus, a good lawyer must be flexible. 

Every applicant should consider whether a law degree is a good investment for his or her personal goals.  At this early stage of my career, I think my law degree was a good investment.  Even though I have taken a traditional path, my degree has given me the opportunity to stretch outside of my comfort zone, to keep learning, and to become a more flexible student of the law. 

I am the Director of the Business and Community Law Clinic (BCL), a live-client transactional clinic at Wayne State University Law School in Detroit – and I love my job.  It feels strange to put this on paper; I’m neither warm and fuzzy nor inclined to gush.  However, I can’t honestly describe my feelings for my job any other way. 

As a clinical professor, I spend my days showing students how to put law into practice. We cover practice fundamentals such as researching economically, tracking time, and interviewing clients. We apply the substantive law – contracts, corporations, intellectual property, real property – students have learned in class to the facts brought to them by their client. Just as importantly, I try to convey to students the seriousness of the responsibilities that come with every client representation – honesty, integrity, and loyalty. In the abstract, these professional responsibilities are easy to understand. However, when the real hopes and real money of a real client are in the balance, the lesson is so much clearer.

Each semester, I find myself feeling gratified that I’ve strengthened our profession by helping another class of students learn. If that were the extent of what I do, I would probably be content. But what makes my job special is the opportunity to make a difference in my Detroit, my hometown.  

Because the BCL focuses on urban entrepreneurship, the impact of the work we do goes beyond the individual client.  A small storefront restaurant represents the dreams of the client, but also means one less vacant store front and one more customer for local suppliers.  It means one more economically self-sufficient family, one more tax payer in the city, and a handful of jobs for local kids. In many ways, the BCL is as much a community economic development clinic as it is a transactional clinic. 

Seeing the students embrace this dual purpose is incredibly rewarding, particularly because for many of them, it isn’t easy. Engaging the economically, ethnically, and socially varied community that is metropolitan Detroit invariably raises issues of race, socio-economic status, education, and access to resources, even if only as subtext.  For many students, these issues are unfamiliar and dealing with them is uncomfortable at first. But almost without fail, the students are up to the challenge.

Watching this happen every semester is amazing. I go home everyday feeling proud of both my students and the work of the BCL.

This is my dream job. Or more accurately, my dream jobs. I am a teacher, counselor at law, community activist, and business advisor.  The individual tasks I undertake can vary widely day-to-day or even hour-to-hour.  But underlying them all is a mission of service. To my profession. To my students. To my clients. To my community.

And I love it.

Just don’t tell anyone; it will ruin my reputation.

As a young alumna trying to find my own path in the legal profession, I am often asked to offer advice to current and prospective law students who are looking for something a little different – a little better – a little more meaningful.  I am currently an associate at a 19-attorney law firm in San Francisco, where I divide my time between general commercial litigation and public interest work on behalf of California’s prison and jail inmates.

Previously, I was a legal fellow at the ACLU of Illinois for two years following a federal district court clerkship.  At each step in my career, I’ve tried to pick the opportunity that feels right for me – I have not always chosen the best lit road, and certainly not the roads paved with gold.    

Now I am in a place that, for me, is the best of both worlds.  In our prison and jail litigation work, I have the opportunity to meet people all over California who have led enormously complicated and difficult lives, and to help them improve their current conditions.  In our general commercial work, I’m learning a portfolio of skills – from drafting discovery, to interviewing potential clients, to selecting expert witnesses – that few young lawyers have the opportunity to explore.  Many law students experience uncertainty and even dread about their first years in practice, envisioning deadly dull research projects and unscalable mountains of document review.  While I won’t say that everything I do is fascinating and interesting, my experience here has shown me that there are great rewards in being a different kind of lawyer.  

I count myself lucky to have many law school friends who have similarly found their own “paths less traveled,” from the Navy JAG currently serving in Afghanistan to the international human rights expert working as a legal specialist in Cambodia.  We all came to law school from different places, and our roads have had some bumps, but so far, there haven’t been any dead ends either.  

So my advice to law students is: think about where YOU want to go.  Not where it’s easiest to go; not necessarily where the money is.  Ask: where do you want to be?  What do you want to learn?  Who do you want to serve?   

And then think about how you’ll get there.  But remember that nothing in life is a straight line!  I edited a criminal law journal in law school without ever intending to practice criminal law, and now I find that what I learned during that experience about the Prison Litigation Reform Act (and the Bluebook) is useful all the time.  I took a class in “Law and Social Change” without imagining I’d ever find myself at a firm that does big impact litigation, but here I am.   And I’m at my law firm because one of my favorite professor knew a partner here and was willing to make a phone call for me, so take seriously all that networking advice you’ll get.  Meet everyone you can, and keep in touch with as many people as you can – because you never know where your road will take you.

How Legal Education Has Sharpened My Worldview.  Open any newspaper these days, and one is likely to see articles that question the value of obtaining a law degree today.  They ask, “Are there enough legal jobs for all law school graduates from the 200-plus law schools in the United States?”  Or they inquire, “Are law schools actually training and preparing law students for the types of tasks they will undertake in legal practice? 

Although I do not agree with many points made in these articles, I do believe that they are performing an important service for prospective law school applicants.  They force prospective law school applicants to think more carefully about why they are going to law school and, more importantly, they push such applicants (and many lawyers) to think deeply about the value of a law degree.

For most lawyers, if you ask them what is most valuable about their legal education, the answer will not be “the money” or “their job.” Of course, given the high costs of both undergraduate and graduate education today, it makes great sense for applicants to worry about what economic opportunities will await them upon graduation.  And, I would be lying if I said that I was not grateful for the financial privileges that I now enjoy as a result of my legal education.  In terms of economics, my legal education transformed my life.  But like many lawyers, I see the greatest value in my legal education, not in terms of money, but instead in the way that my legal education has sharpened my worldview.

My legal education has shown me that there is not just one solution to any problem.  When I trotted off to law school, I, on some level, saw the law as a tool that could correct injustice and inequality alone.  My legal education exposed for me how narrow this view of problem solving is. My legal education has sharpened my worldview by revealing just how much different systems in our world, such as judicial systems, educational systems, and political systems across the globe, are interdependent and require collaboration and cooperation between their many actors for the true resolution of any problems.

My legal education has reinforced the responsibility that we as human beings each have for each other.  As a law student and a lawyer, I have had to read and confront many cases in which people suffered or lost access to their rights simply because they had no voice or had no idea about how to use their voice.  My legal education has reminded me of the duty that those with voice—and language to exert that voice—have to speak on behalf of those without voice.

My legal education has taught me that there is always another side to be considered and evaluated.  As a law student and lawyer, one has to understand the opposing argument(s) just as much as his or her own to be a successful advocate.  One also must learn how to listen to others and, at times, compromise.  These tools are useful for day-to-day living, and they are crucial to jobs in many fields and in many places around the world.

Often when I speak to college students who ask me for guidance in making a decision about applying to law school, I tell them to go to law school if they truly believe that it is right for them.  I advise them not to go to law school just because they have no idea about what else they should do. After all, law school is too tough, both emotionally and academically, to just experience out of desperation or lack of direction.  Also, I remind them that law school is very expensive, much like so many newspaper articles have highlighted.  At the same time, I tell them that my legal education is invaluable. I always assert, “No matter what job I perform, now or in the future, my legal education will make me perform my duties better.  Were I to leave the law tomorrow, my legal education would still be invaluable.”

I can only talk about my own experience, but I’m positive I’m not the only one. I loved law school. Yes, you saw that right. I loved law school. Actually, better said, I loved my law school experience and I still love my law school. And, no, I’m not some masochistic genius.

All joking aside, law school has given me so much. For starters, my law school (American University’s Washington College of Law) took a chance on me and gave me an opportunity. I didn’t have bad grades or bad scores, but I wasn’t a superstar in those metrics either. Instead, I believe the Admission Officers had some foresight. I believe they saw value in my work with migrant workers on Virginia’s Eastern Shore and how that experience influenced me to become a lawyer. I believe they thought I could do something with what they had to offer me.

What law school offered me was an environment where I was able to grow intellectually and culturally. I learned about the basis of our legal system and its development, but I also had the opportunity to take diverse elective courses that exposed me to many areas of law. The courses, presentations, forums, law student associations, and extracurricular activities helped me see the countless career and other possibilities available to me as a law school graduate. I was especially lucky to have learned how to be a lawyer as a part of an amazing clinical program with great professors and supervisors.

So, what did I do with what law school had to offer me? Nearly five years after graduating, I’ve worked as an immigration lawyer, an assistant public defender, and a legal aid attorney. I’ve represented detained immigrants in deportation proceedings. I’ve represented indigent clients facing criminal charges. I’ve represented low-income individuals in employment, housing, and consumer protection matters. I’ve conducted countless legal orientations for immigration detainees with no access to court appointed counsel. I’ve helped manage the federally funded program that provides for those legal orientations. I’ve presented on the immigration consequences of criminal convictions at a statewide conference for Public Defenders. I’ve served as an immigration law advisor to criminal defense attorneys. I’ve given know-your-rights presentations all around Virginia, from Arlington to the Eastern Shore. I’ve done outreach to Migrant Farmworkers, among other things. And now, I’m moving on to help oversee the federal program that funds the attorney position that I held straight out of law school.

I don’t mean to brag in any shape or form. I am a modest person and anyone who knows me, knows that but for these purposes I can admit that I’ve made a difference in this world and other people’s lives. Before that, however, law school made a difference in my life. I can proudly credit my law school and the experience I had there for putting me on the path that I am on and for giving me the tools, skills, opportunities--whatever you want to call them—I needed for making a difference. For that, I am eternally grateful to my law school, and its faculty and staff. If I had to do it all over again, I would.

This is the story of how every single thing you planned on for your legal career can turn out differently, and law school can still be the best decision you ever made.

When I entered law school at age 23, I was sure of how my legal career would turn out.  I was going to be offered a job by the law firm where I did my 2L summer internship, pass the bar exam, and then happily sit in my office and write patents.  As a college engineering major, I’d decided that patent law would be the ideal way to use my technical training while not being forced to wear steel-toed boots and a hardhat on a daily basis. 

The path I planned on was the same one that seemingly 75% of my classmates wanted as well.  As a law school well known for intellectual property law, UNH attracts engineers, biologists, and chemists from all over the country.  Some of us wanted a big firm job, others were hoping to work for a few years and then go in-house (aka “The Promised Land”).  Many of my classmates followed that path, but I did not.

I was very fortunate in that at the end of my third year of law school, I had three job offers.  One was from a private patent law firm, one was an in-house offer from the company where I had done an externship my final semester, and one was a position in university technology licensing.  I had been hoping all semester that the company would make me a job offer, and I’d only applied for the other positions as a safety net.  But when the time came to make my decision, I surprised nearly everyone I knew by choosing to go to the university.

My time at UNH had given me the confidence to know what sort of work would actually make me happy.  By choosing what career services referred to as “an alternative legal career,” I stepped away from the path I’d carefully chosen for myself.  Instead of worrying about getting clients and making hourly billing requirements, I entered a field where there is always more work than I can ever finish, I see a huge variety of interesting technological innovation, and I never have to work on a weekend.

As with any endeavor, law school is what you make of it.  Perhaps it was just where I went to school, but the unpleasant degree of competition I was expecting to find at law school never appeared.  Instead, the faculty and staff seemed to recognize that just as with a work environment, a collegial and interactive educational environment is much better for students and employees than is desperately trying to one-up the competition.  When you apply for law school, take a tour!  Sit in on a class and see how the students interact with each other. 

Law school isn’t for everyone, but I think it would be a mistake to read bad job reports from law firms as the only reason why a law school education is a bad idea.  There are so many other jobs and whole industries that still need good people (University tech transfer being one.  Seriously, please apply, my office is hopelessly under-staffed!). 

While I do not practice in a traditional manner, I am thankful every day on the job for my legal education. I look at problems differently than my colleagues with PhDs or masters degrees, and the collaboration between our backgrounds is good for our entire office.  I also can’t watch an episode of Law and Order without yelling at the TV, but that is another matter.  If law school has always been your dream, don’t give up on it because of a few bad years for big law firms.  Research your options, plan your funding and loans very carefully and responsibly, and tour a few schools.  As any lawyer will tell you, there is no such thing as being too prepared.

Best of luck!

It is amazing how much little things can impact the choices we make in life.  I almost did not go to law school.  When I began college at the University of Michigan, I had a completely different vision for my life.  I planned to go to medical school; however, I had a nagging feeling that medical school was not for me.  So I started taking classes to explore my options.  I took everything from jazz dance to a health management and policy class.  In that exploratory phase, I also took a Women in the Law class and a Critical Race Theory class.  My Women in the Law class showed me the evolution of the law over time to provide some rights to women, while taking away others.  My Critical Race Theory class taught me that there is always something behind the scenes that affects the actions of lawyers and judges -- the individuals, who make the law.  As a result, I was intrigued and, like most potential law students, formed lofty goals for what I would do with my law degree.  I wanted to become a creator of law and a catalyst for change.  Seriously.

I started my legal studies at Boston College Law School bright-eyed and eager.  I sucked in as much information as I could my first year and then began a summer internship at a legal aid organization, still furthering my goal of becoming a catalyst for change, though I was not sure what that change would be.  I was convinced that the only way to succeed in my goal was to work for a legal aid organization.  Then, I met a mentor, who explained to me that I could effect just as much change, if not more, working in private practice where I would have more resources and the ear of those who I wanted to change.  This advice changed the trajectory of my legal career; and I am glad that it did.

Eight years later, I am currently an employment lawyer, which for me means that I defend and counsel employers in workplace matters.  Almost every time I tell someone that I am a lawyer, the first question I get is “Do you like what you do?”  I can honestly say that the answer is “yes”.  On a day-to-day basis, not only do I get to counsel employers on how to ensure that their workplace complies with the law, but I also get to provide practical advice on how to improve that workplace.  Further, I defend them when they are in compliance with the law.  I do this for paying clients and, on a pro bono basis, for nonprofit organizations.  I know that the work I do has a direct impact on the lives of others because, next to family law, there are few areas of law that are as personal as workplace law.

Of course my law practice is not perfect.  There are spans of time where I have to work late to finish a crucial motion or project or to prepare for trial.  The important part, however, is that working through the issues excites me; and, in my own way, I am a catalyst for change and a creator of law, as some of the cases I have worked on have resulted in published opinions.  I also know that the later work days are temporary, rather than normal.  I am still able to drop my toddler off at school almost every morning and pick him up almost every evening.  I also get to take him to the zoo and the park.  In short, I am still able to maintain both work and life.

The law is my third career.  I started as an engineer and later migrated into computers, which was a relatively new career in the early 80’s.  When I retired from Ford Motor Company in 2007, I was ready for a new direction.  I wanted to give back, to help people, and to change the world (ever the idealist, I suppose).  My daughter challenged me to consider law school, and why not?  It was a bigger challenge than I expected, but I made it through, passed the bar, and established a solo practice in Hillsborough, North Carolina.

“Do what you know” was the advice I received along the way, and so I studied Business Law and alternative dispute resolution. It was, after all, what I knew and what I did for years working at Ford.  But, on the way to building a practice in business law, I found I was working on projects in which I didn’t have ownership and I wasn’t excited.  Instead, I found myself drawn more and more to the problems our elders have in their declining years including such things as managing their assets, navigating through the maze of public benefits from Social Security and state programs, and planning their transitions from one way of life to another. This since has led to a dedicated practice in “Elder Law” or, as I prefer to think of it, as a practice connecting with my clients when they need guidance the most.  I’ve recently added VA certification to my practice so I can also assist those who have served our country in the military. Now, this being my third career, post-retirement, I really am “doing what I know” by helping elders I recognize as my parents’ generation.

A typical engagement with a client usually starts with a call from a child (my age) or grandchild who is worried about their elderly parent.  It might be related to money issues, or a recent fall, or diagnosis of some serious medical condition.  In my practice the client is almost always the elder, and after the initial call, I try to engage with the elder.  I visit them at home or in a rehab center, wherever it is easiest to reach them.  I listen to their stories, and I share their fears and successes.  They tell me about their kids, and their life then and now, and they appreciate the time I spend listening.  Today, for example, I heard about the thrill a 94 year-old girl had when she rode through Hillsborough on a two-horse buggy with her daddy in 1925.  No, it isn’t billable, but, the reward is her rediscovered joy and renewed sense of self and purpose, even if just for that visit.  I love this part of the job, and I would do this even if I were never paid.  When we are done, she will have a new estate plan and a little more control over her estate, but I understand something more about life and that person, and in the end, I think I have gained more.

Beyond the actual work with my clients, I also enjoy the opportunity to network with other attorneys locally and with national organizations such as NAELA (National Academy of Elder law Attorneys) and the ABA.  Each profession has similar associations.  Make the most of them.  Never underestimate the value of networking.  As a solo practitioner, you cannot work alone; you need mentors and help.  You can’t know everything, so you have to know people who can fill in your gaps and be your backup.  Besides, they all have stories too.

You may have guessed … I love this area of law.  I feel appreciated and I do actual good things for people as I practice being an attorney.  Imagine that!  I found a deep, satisfying meaning in my “work”.  Whatever role you play, in whatever practice you are, and wherever you find yourself, I challenge you to do the same.  You can find meaning in work, and you can make the world a better place, even if just one client at a time.  Without the law I would not have taken this same opportunity to work with my elders.  The law has made a positive impact on me, and on those I serve.

Douglas Koenig, Dartmouth ‘77, MSU College of Law 2010 Graduate
Licensed in North Carolina 2010
Solo Practice

When I enrolled at Michigan in Fall 2007, I was very confident that I would like to go to law school.  My interest in legal affairs, including regulations, accountability, and related matters demanded a strong work ethic in the classroom, but also practical experience to apply to a legal education.  This need for work experience led me to PSIP, and the great opportunities that flowed out of it.

As a PSIP participant for 2007-2008, I was so grateful to learn about how to gain access to internship oppertunities.  Resume tweaks, cover letter drafting, and interview simulations prepared me very well for finding an internship in Summer 2008, and for internships in subsequent summers.

Having worked in DC for Summer 2008, 2009, and 2010, and living with PSIPers in George Washington residence halls each summer, I had success in applying to Law Schools in DC. Now, as a law student at American University, I use the skills I gained from my time with PSIP to find Summer legal internships.  Having interned at the Government Accountability Office in 2010, I applied to legal internship opportunities related to accountability and regulatory agencies   I was able to secure a position with the Department of Justice in the Office of Professional Responsibility.  This position required me to conduct legal research on rules of professional conduct for Government attorneys practicing in every state.  Connecting my interest in accountability from Undergrad with Summer positions in law schol afforded me this opportunity, and the information from PSIP helped me through that application and interview process.

More importantly, in law school, for the most part, the expectation is that students will intern each Summer (alternatively, though rarely, some students choose to do research for a professor or pursue other opportunities).  Because PSIPers already know to be using their Summers in great ways, finding internship opportunities in law school will be easy and natural.  However, PSIP can really prepare Michigan students looking to go to law school beyond the Summer experiences.  

The best part about going to law school in DC is the ability to intern year-round.  This is probably true of every large-city-law school, but DC uniquely has the headquarters of many government organizations.  The benefit shines when extremely competitive summer internship programs become desperate for equally qualified interns as law students from outside DC head back to school when the Summer ends.  Government agencies need interns all the time, and going to law school in DC lets students take classes and intern simultaneously to truly prepare them for life after law school.  Having interned through the help of PSIP at Michigan has made (1) finding opportunities and (2) interning year round more than a possibility.  I cannot thank PSIP enough for providing me with an appreciation for the internship discovery process, the attention to detail in applying and interviewing, and making interning a fun and interesting part of my education, both at Michigan and now in Law School.

Forever Go Blue!

My story differs from that of many recent law school graduates, but I am not unique.  I decided to enter law school as a second-career move, after years studying to obtain a Ph.D. and then teaching in higher education, only to find the academic job market shrunk and my priorities changed.  I began to ponder alternative career paths.  Though at times paralyzed with fears of insurmountable debt and long-term career failure, not once did I think, “oh, I know, I’ll be a lawyer.”  Yet I can genuinely say that becoming a lawyer was one of the best decisions of my life.

What makes the practice of law an exciting, satisfying and still strong career path?  My decision to go to law school was a deliberate one.  While experiencing post-graduate school career fear, I spent some time thinking and writing about what aspects of my academic study I liked, what my strengths were and what type of mark I wanted to leave on the world.  I began by listening to my gut interests, rather than determining what type of job sounded promising.  I knew that I liked to work with people and loved teaching.  I had skills in research and writing.  Moreover, I had always been drawn to “community”.  I knew that I had always had a keen loyalty to the communities in which I had lived and worked, and that I wanted to be actively involved in improving the communities around me and the educational opportunities offered for people within those communities.  I also had no interest in being in the public eye.  That meant that politics was likely not in my future…but perhaps I could work behind the scenes in the political or governmental arena, and perhaps law school could put me on that path.

I was determined to get to the professional purpose I envisioned, in whatever specific “job” form it took.  In other words, I stayed focused on a general goal of public sector work that would keep me professionally motivated, and openly shared that goal with everyone I came across.  My persistence paid off.  I now work as a public finance attorney, advising and “teaching” cities, townships, school districts, universities and other public entities throughout Michigan on the financing of infrastructure projects, and assisting them in solving other concerns that Michigan communities face in challenging economic times.  Every day is different, my skills are valued, and I am rewarded in the knowledge that I have had some small role in shaping the future of the communities around me, right in line with the goal for which I went to law school in the first place.

Yes, I was offered a position and chose to work at a large law firm, which will not be for everyone.  I have law school classmates and colleagues with similar passions to my own who are now working as local attorneys for Michigan communities and running nonprofit organizations.  I know others who work in areas of law vastly different from my practice, yet who have found similar purpose-driven fulfillment in the law.

The legal profession has taken a hit in the last few years as the job market has shrunk and the relevance of our current U.S. legal education to 21st-Century legal practice has been called into question by practitioners and academics.  It is true that ambitious law students across the country have unexpectedly faced declining post-graduate prospects in recent years, like graduates in almost every other field of study.

What is not true is that the legal profession is no longer a viable, fulfilling and enjoyable career path.  As a recent law school graduate and second-career lawyer, who has experienced all of the debt and career anxiety of graduates far younger, I can also say that I would not change my decision to attend law school and practice law for any reason.  The practice of law is broad, counts among its practitioners a diverse community of interesting, motivated and stereotype-defying people, and can be incredibly rewarding.

The key to making law a fulfilling career is to step away from the promise blindly offered twenty years ago that law school, or any professional school for that matter, is a magic pill that will eliminate all career worries.  Instead, find your passion and direct that passion within the law, whether you do so before enrolling or once you have some law school under your belt.  That may sound simplistic and idealized, but it is one 21st-Century approach that works!

I work as a fellow at the newly-created Pace Community Law Practice (PCLP) in White Plains, NY, a “legal residency” program that employs recent law graduates. In this, the inaugural year of the program, four fellows were hired to work in a non-profit law office with an income-based fee structure. As a fellow, I work with clients under a supervising attorney.

I get up in the morning because my clients need my help. In law school, I spent two years working in Pace Law’s Immigration Justice Clinic where I helped clients “regularize” their immigration statuses. Now, I have my own clients. Recently, I have been working to help undocumented high school students apply for Deferred Action for Childhood Arrivals (DACA). DACA, if approved, gives these students the ability to work in the United States in order to attend college and work toward their dreams.

One of my clients wants to be an immigration attorney, another wants to work in criminal justice, and a third wants to be the CEO of his own clothing company. A DACA approval gives certainty to these students so they can focus on school without the constant worry of deportation to an unfamiliar homeland. In New York State, it also allows them the simple pleasure afforded every sixteen-year-old— the opportunity to get a driver’s license.

I have also begun helping clients with removal (deportation) cases in immigration court. Many of these clients speak very little English and they come from countries where the government simply cannot be trusted. These two factors, as well as the fear of deportation, make immigration court proceedings especially harrowing for them.

I also find court to be intimidating but I know that if I give in to my fear of speaking in front of a judge then my clients will certainly give into their fears as well. Generally, I find that it is easier to advocate for my clients than myself. When I am in court, and I see the client who is depending on me to make a positive difference in his or her life, I am able to accomplish arguments that I never would have thought myself capable of before I went to law school.

Often times my work is difficult. A large portion of my day could be spent on the phone trying to convince people--clients, school administrators, adversaries--to do things. Frequently, a million little tasks add up to what seems like an insurmountable pile of responsibilities. But then, a client will call with good news and I remember why I wanted to go to law school in the first place. I help people.

I’ve helped a Guatemalan father legally remain in this country with his young son who is an American citizen. I’ve helped a Mexican mother of three--a domestic violence survivor--take control of her life. I’ve helped an undocumented Haitian boy who has a brother who is an American citizen and a mother who is a permanent resident, obtain status in the United States so he could grow up in his mother’s home without worry of being returned to a hurricane-ravaged country where he would be without any friends or family.

Pretty soon, I am sure I’ll be able to say I helped the CEO of a clothing company and I helped someone become an immigration attorney. I help people, and I like it.

My name is Elaine Barr.  I am currently an attorney at Michigan Indian Legal Services (MILS).  Prior to joining MILS, I served as a Legal Fellow at MSU College of Law Indigenous Law and Policy Center.  I am a 2011 graduate of Michigan State University College of Law in 2011 and a 2008 alumna of the University of Michigan.

Despite the challenges the profession is currently facing and mounting negative media exposure, law not only remains a viable profession, but I believe it is possible to have a balanced and positive experience in law school and once in practice.  Stress and tension are inevitable parts of most legal careers, but I find purpose and meaning in the work I do.

Our mission at Michigan Indian Legal Services is to provide legal services to low income Indian individuals and tribes to further self-sufficiency, overcome discrimination, assist tribal governments, and preserve Indian families.  Much of my practice is focused on providing criminal defense representation in tribal courts and advocating on behalf of parents in child welfare cases. Our office also participates in the Legal Aid Hotline, which brings in clients harboring a vast array of issues.  My position offers daily intellectual challenges and presents an opportunity to serve a segment of the community that would otherwise likely not have access to legal services.  Like any act of devotion should, on any given day, these things simply fill my heart with joy.

I am in no way saying that the only happy attorneys are legal aid attorneys, or even that all attorneys who work in legal aid find purpose in their work.  The point I want to make is the way I think people who are contemplating attending law school and a career in law should approach the work they are doing is to consciously acknowledge and understand why they are exerting so much effort and what that effort means to the individual.  A certain amount of self-reflection is inherent in this process (and there are plenty of people who have successful legal careers without it), but my personal experience has led me to believe that reflecting on the reasons to pursue a particular career can help fill in the blank spaces that could exist in determining how to follow a specific path.

I loved being a law student. For me it was with a sense of relief that I realized that I just ‘fit’ in a law school environment in a way in which I never had in undergrad, when I was studying engineering. 

(Case in point, when my very old second-hand tv broke down and my roommates wanted to fix it; I just wanted a ride to the store to buy a new one.) 

Law school was different: I devoured my reading assignments (except for Constitutional Law, which was pretty tough for me). My friends and I debated class hypotheticals long after the professor left the room, and created our own, even more elaborate factual scenarios. And of course, I annoyed friends and family by pointing out the “interesting legal issues” that related to even the most innocent of conversational points. 

I love being a lawyer. I have had a great career thus far, and I still wonder what new opportunities will pique my interest. I clerked for a federal judge and further honed my litigation skills as an associate in a large New York firm. There I worked with highly skilled senior lawyers representing clients in cases that addressed Constitutional issues, divorce, and yes, securities fraud litigation, the staple of New York BigLaw. I learned a lot about seeking justice, communicating with clients, legal writing and effective advocacy and strategy. 

But BigLaw was an environment where my research was driven by client needs, instead of my own personal interests. So it was with great eagerness that I sought a job teaching law. I moved to Iowa to a tenure-track position at the University of Iowa College of Law, and I love it. Yes, New York to Iowa was a big transition, but if you love the work you are doing, the place just needs to be a good base. And I love my students and my colleagues, and the work that I have been able to accomplish, teaching and researching international law, and teaching civil procedure and other litigation related topics. As a full professor and associate dean, I travel around the world, working with our study abroad programs and engaging in research opportunities. And then I return to the comfortable academic community that is my base, Iowa City. 

Actually, Iowa City is more than just a good base, it is a great community. And it surprises many with its outward perspective; this is a state and a city that is very aware of global connections through its agricultural economy, as well as through the extended political discourse that accompanies its status as first in the nation caucus state and in the last few elections, as a ‘swing state.’ 

I am a graduate of the Michigan Law School class of 1989, and at nearly 25 years in, I consider myself as halfway through my legal career. As a young girl dreaming of being a lawyer, my legal heroes were the people who made a positive difference in peoples’ lives. I work to do that every day, and look forward to new ways to help my community, local and global. 

Marcella David, Associate Dean and Professor of Law & International Studies, [email protected]

http://www.law.uiowa.edu/faculty/marcella-david.php 

My decision to pursue a J.D.  Since I’ve heard others laugh this off over and over again during the first few weeks of 1L, I am no longer embarrassed to say—I have wanted to be a lawyer before I even knew what being a lawyer really was (aside from what the lawyers on television series and movies do). It might be embarrassing to admit the age that my incompetence about that question ended, but what’s important is that I now know, to a much greater extent, what lawyers do. And most importantly, I know that I am driven, excited, and passionate to become one.

My interest in studying law began at Michigan when I decided, just barely before my junior year commenced, that I wanted to major in Political Science. I walked into my first political science class expecting to learn a great deal, but never would I have guessed that I would walk out of that very class just months later with a passion for law, public policy, and for planning my life around a goal of helping others. These interests and my passion for law would only strengthen through the rest of my journey at Michigan filling my schedule with classes within the political science department, school of natural resources and the environment, and the Ford School of Public Policy. By my senior year I had already planned on attending law school after taking a year off after graduation and my eagerness for studying law became even greater during that year off through my work in Springfield, Illinois.

I spent just under a year living and working in Springfield before leaving to attend Loyola University Chicago School of Law. In Springfield I worked at the Illinois House of Representatives on a Research and Appropriations staff for the Office of the Speaker. The experience I had there was extremely rewarding: my writing and communication skills improved, I worked with leadership on legislative policy projects, analyzed legislation, studied Illinois statutes, and developed agency budgets for the upcoming fiscal year by collaborating with agency staff and House members. All of these things have equipped me with tools for success in my future jobs and endeavors, but what was crucial in this experience for my transition to becoming a 1L was realizing just what more I could do for others and how much more I could accomplish by advancing my education in law school.

Simply setting a goal of ‘helping others’ at first seemed daunting, but through my classes at Michigan and my time in Springfield, I learned that helping people through government work offers an opportunity to effectively and creatively help those in all walks of life, businesses both small and large, and communities fallen on hard times and those prospering. I am able, of course, to help people without pursuing a J.D., but blessed with the opportunity and drive to be able to advance my education to understand more complex legal and public policy issues and therefore expand my abilities to help others, I know it is the right decision for me.

Even as a freshman at the University of Michigan, I was confident that law school awaited me after graduation.  As a senior, I briefly contemplated taking a few years off to work in politics in Washington, D.C.  My mentor at U-M, himself a lawyer, had strongly encouraged me to work for a year or two before going to law school.  But, again, I was sure that I wanted to go to law school: I knew that I wanted to be a lawyer—I wasn’t going to law school simply because, for instance, I believed that I needed a graduate degree to complement my liberal-arts degree from LS&A—and I believed that I was mentally ready for the academic challenge reputedly posed by law school.

So, in August 2007, I moved to Nashville, Tennessee where I began law school at Vanderbilt University.  I had a fantastic experience at Vanderbilt Law.  After having perhaps 6,000 classmates at Michigan, I enjoyed the camaraderie that accompanied a 190-person class.  A number of my classmates have become my closest friends, who I regularly keep in contact with and who I see whenever the chance arises.  And, at Vanderbilt, I had the opportunity to learn closely from and, in some cases, work with members of the law school’s faculty, many of whom I also continue to keep in touch with.  I cherished my time at Vanderbilt Law because of the friends I made there, students and faculty alike, and because of the school’s strong sense of community.

 I am just now beginning my legal career, having graduated from Vanderbilt in May 2010.  But I have been very fortunate to have already had two exceptional professional opportunities: clerking for federal judges—first for a federal appeals-court judge, and second for a federal trial-court judge.  Generally, a “judicial clerkship” is a position in which a recent law-school graduate works for one to two years for a state or federal judge, advising that judge on his or her cases and assisting that judge in drafting judicial opinions.  My mentor at U-M had clerked for a federal judge immediately after graduating from law school, and he had strongly encouraged me to do the same.  Most of my law-school professors also had clerked for federal judges—two for Supreme Court Justices—and many called it the best job they had ever had.  So applying for a postgraduation clerkship with a federal judge was a no-brainer.  Thanks in large part to phone calls from a former boss at the Department of Justice (where I worked after my first year of law school) and a Vanderbilt professor, my search for a clerkship succeeded.  (It also helped that one of the judges for whom I clerked graduated from LS&A and then U-M’s law school; he and I shared the same favorite History professor.)

My two clerkship experiences were fantastic.  The judges I clerked for were more than bosses; they were—and remain—mentors.  They taught me how to think through tricky legal issues, how to write clearly, how to present oral argument, how to prepare for a court hearing, how to act toward the bench (judges) and bar (lawyers), how to research more effectively, and the list could go on and on.  To be sure, their primary job was the job that the President appointed them to do: deciding cases and controversies.  But they also believed that, in their job, they had a responsibility to aid the professional development of the new attorneys who served as their law clerks.  And for that, I am grateful.

Many other aspects of my clerkships bear mentioning, but two stand out in particular.  First, part of what made clerking such an exceptional opportunity was the great responsibility that my judges entrusted to my co-clerks and me.  My judges relied on us to provide independent, candid, and carefully researched advice on those cases assigned to us.  In some cases, my co-clerks and I might write the first draft of a judicial opinion; in others, we might write a more informal memorandum; and in others still, we might share our thoughts in-person.  No matter the method in which we provided our counsel, and no matter whether the judges adopted our recommendations, my co-clerks and I played a significant role in the judicial-decisionmaking process—an exhilarating feeling for a new attorney.  Second, clerking provided me with the opportunity to work closely with brilliant minds.  Foremost were the judges, but I also learned greatly from my co-clerks.  Many of the lessons described above that I learned from my judges, I also learned from my co-clerks.  And because of the professional uniqueness of the clerkship experience, my co-clerks and I share a close bond that will remain throughout our legal careers.  Clerking, in short, is an amazing job.

My experiences since graduating from Michigan—first as a student at Vanderbilt Law, next as a law clerk to two federal judges, and now as an associate at a major law firm—have been intellectually, professionally, and socially rewarding.  Only two-and-a-half years may have passed since I graduated law school, but I already know that attending law school was one of the best decisions that I have ever made.  For those of you who want to become a lawyer (or who want to use a legal degree toward other professional aims), I urge you to consider applying to law school.  And, once you have entered law school and are making plans for what to do immediately after graduating law school, I urge you to consider clerking.

I can remember sitting in Tisch Hall in my history professor’s office and getting the big question: Why do you want to go to law school? I could have answered a lot of different ways for a lot of different reasons, some good, some bad, some mediocre. I’m happy to report that the answer I gave in the Fall of 2009 remains the same: I went to law school to gain an understanding that would not only help me figure out how our society managed, if not solved, its problems and disputes, but would help me to be a part of the answer.

One of the beautiful things about law school is that the substance of the law is fascinating, but you quickly understand that the education is not only about substance. It’s about changing how you approach a problem, and knowing where to begin. In your first year, the questions begin to multiply: What is the law for this problem? Where do I find it? How do I apply it?

People don’t walk out of law school having all the answers. They walk out knowing how to find the answers. That’s the exciting part, and that remains true for every professor and practitioner with which I have ever interacted. Though with time and experience people begin to “know the law,” this phrase really means that they know the 3rd or 4th question to ask to reach an answer quickly.

Though there seem to be ballooning numbers of law students, there remains a close affiliation among professionals who practice in the same area of law. Why? Exhilaration. No, really. Your colleagues, in school and in practice have asked the same questions you have. They’ve struggled with the same distinctions and inconsistencies. They’ve had the same triumph in crafting a thorough and nuanced answer to the problem.  You speak a different language than the layman, but an incredibly important one.

Any time that you’re asked to solve a legal problem, your answer makes a difference to someone. Maybe it’s a wrongfully convicted prisoner. Maybe it’s a senior partner in the firm who will save the client a lot of money. Maybe it’s a judge who will issue a ruling based on the work you did. People will make permanent, lasting decisions based on your problem solving ability. There can be no greater reward in one’s career. 

My path into law school was fairly different, and one that gives me a unique perspective on both the benefits and downsides of law school.  As an undergraduate neuroscience major interested in both basic science and social science, I applied to Northwestern University’s psychology department to study the brain mechanisms behind deception.  Having never really considered law school, I happened to meet a student at the psychology recruitment weekend who was enrolled in Northwestern’s JD/PhD joint degree program.  Intrigued, I began to investigate the connections between law and neuroscience, and law and social science more broadly.  I was amazed at the broad and interesting research occurring at law schools and the incredible interdisciplinary collaboration.  From psychology to economics to sociology to statistics, scholars of all varieties were applying knowledge from their fields to the law, and having a real impact on how the legal discussion was shaped.  With neuroscience being such a young field, I became fascinated with how it might eventually impact courts, with technologies like brain scanning being becoming increasingly offered as evidence at trial.  My interest insatiable, I struggled my way through the LSAT, applied, and sneaked my way in off the wait list.

What I found when I arrived for 1L was beyond what I could have imagined, in ways both good and bad.  For a person with genuine intellectual interest in the law, the Socratic method generates a wealth of discussion and encourages open thinking.  Never before had I sat in a room of 65 people who were so intelligent and focused on learning every nuance of a topic.  Never before had my views been challenged so greatly, both by my professors and by my fellow students.  Each student brought a different unique perspective to the law as well—coming from my science background, I could speak from a data-driven view, but others brought perspectives from economics—which is central to modern law—philosophy, and other disciplines.  I can honestly say it was the perfect place for someone looking to explore.

That’s not to say things were easy, or even always fun.  I vividly remember an experience during the first week of law school—I was grocery shopping, and I was so filled with fear of failure that I could barely focus on something so simple as deciding what to make for dinner.  Law students commonly speak about learning more in 1L than they did during their whole academic lives to that point.  That comes at a price, in the form of time, stress, and sometimes disappointment.  But what I found throughout is that those students who were there for the right reasons—those students who had a passion about law—found ways to press on during the most stressful times as a result of their love for the material.  Those same students seemed to find the experience formative—our political views, our morals, our views of justice—these were constantly challenged, and often changed, as a result of seeing every side of the argument.  There is no greater intellectual experience.

We often hear doom and gloom about the future of the legal profession.  Prospective students tend to focus on miserable law firm hiring statistics as they decide whether to apply.  While this is certainly something worth carefully considering, I sometimes wonder whether we miss the point in conducting this cost-benefit analysis.  I wonder whether the truly relevant questions are masked: Do I love the law?  Am I passionate about justice?  Do I crave the intellectual demand that being a law requires, from private practice to academia?  I found that students who considered these questions carefully and could honestly answer yes tended to find law school among the best three years of their life.  The way I learned to think and analyze will benefit me for my entire life, and I wouldn’t trade the experience for anything.

I attended law school because I want to advocate for people and help solve problems.  During law school I sought ways to utilize the law to help the local community.  I quickly learned that a growing percentage of the population is unable to access legal services in civil matters.  The middle class is disproportionately affected by this problem as free legal services turn them away because they make too much money and private attorneys often charge an hourly rate that is simply unaffordable for the majority of them. 

I graduated from law school this past May (2012) and I now work for the Pace Community Law Practice (PCLP).  The PCLP is a new program created by Pace Law School that expands access to legal representation by using a low-bono, sliding scale fee model.  It functions as a legal residency program that is staffed by recent law school graduates who work under the supervision of an experienced attorney.  The legal residency set-up allows us to refine our legal skills and gain valuable legal experience while awaiting admission to the bar.

The PCLP opened in September and began by helping local immigrant youth apply for Deferred Action for Childhood Arrivals (DACA.) DACA shows an understanding that some immigrants who came here as children and who attended high school in the United States are generally not a threat to the country. In fact, they often think of it as their home. 

These “dreamers” are often high school-aged children or young adults who are recent graduates.  They came here as small children, and most just want the opportunity to attend college or help provide for their families. A majority of the dreamers whom we have seen simply want the same opportunities as their friends or their younger siblings who were born here.  They know that the ability to work in this country legally is more likely to lead to a job that allows them to pay for school. 

As recent law graduates, it is very refreshing and humbling for my colleagues and me to help young adults obtain an opportunity to attend college.  In a way, helping dreamers reminds us of the journey we just completed with law school.  It is difficult not to consider how much more difficult that journey would have been without access to student loans or community support.  Our clients will not have an easy journey between now and college graduation, but overall they are still determined to achieve their goals and I am proud to help them.

It is very exciting to have graduated just six months ago and now work directly with clients each day.  Every case that comes into the PCLP is someone who would have needed to navigate the incredibly complex legal process without representation but who now has someone to explain to them the process and their options.  Every client or potential client gets the chance to ask questions and gain understanding that they would not have obtained otherwise.  Hopefully, most clients will even have good resolutions to their cases. 

But aside from winning these cases, the part of this job that I find exhilarating is that every day I get to help people with issues that affect their lives. Through each client, we expand representation in the Hudson Valley and I help to improve our community.

Positive Experience in Law School:  Clinical Coursework.   During the first semester of my third year at Santa Clara Law, I worked at the Katharine and George Alexander Community Law Clinic. To join the clinic, students simply sign up for a course. The course immerses students into a law firm like setting.  We had our cases, our own clients, offices, and a lot of responsibility. While this was an intimidating venture, we had plenty of support from supervising attorneys. At the start of the course, we went through an all-day training session. After, we met twice a week as a class to be trained on particular skills, such as taking a deposition or writing a demand letter.  

Working at the Community Law Clinic built my confidence for becoming a practicing attorney. Even during my first intake interview with a client, I was expected to lead the conversation. I had to trust myself to uncover all the potential legal issues the prospective client was facing. Sometimes this was very difficult challenge. I was often communicating with clients through translators and the subject matter frequently raised strong emotions within the client. I learned several techniques for keeping the conversation on track, and for digging deeper into potential legal issues.  Because attorneys oversaw our work, there were always safeguards in place, so that I could not fail. Towards the end of the meetings with clients, I would visit my supervising attorney to give a summary of the conversation with the client. My supervising attorney would prompt me to ask the client additional questions on a topic if she felt we did not have sufficient information to work with.

Conducting meetings with clients was just the start of my work at the clinic. Based on the initial intake meeting, our supervising attorneys would decide if the clinic would represent the clients in a legal matter. If yes, the students suddenly had a lot of work to do. We had to research the applicable laws, find contact information for the opposing parties, and gather evidence. Based on our research, we worked with the attorneys to form a litigation strategy. Once our litigation strategy was formed, the students once again took the lead, with our supervising attorneys at our side.

Drafting my first demand letter was intimidating, but it is downright terrifying to sit across from the opposing party’s attorney in the first negotiation. Luckily for me, my supervising attorney had all the confidence in me that I did not have in myself. My first negotiation was a settlement conference at the Labor Commission. I had spent weeks preparing my client, the calculations, and a strategy. It was a packed table. My supervisor, Attorney Margarita Prado Alvarez, sat to the right of me. To my left was a translator. Next to the translator was my client. The deputy sat at the head of the table. On the opposite side sat the defendant and his attorney. With so many voices in the room, my supervisor frequently gave me the opportunity to speak first for our side of the table. A simple nod from the deputy or from my supervisor let me know that I was going down the right path. I had to articulate the laws, explain our client’s side of the story, and keep track of all the details to the story that the defendant was now sharing with us, especially the details that weakened our client’s case. Even with the weakening details, I knew I had to be an advocate for my client and turn each one into a positive. We did not settle the case, but we left the opposing party frazzled because it became clear to them that our claim had merit.

Throughout my semester at the clinic, I was able to work with cases which were in various stages of the litigation process. Arguing a case at the Labor Commission was one of the most exciting days for me. My client, a construction worker, had a large claim for being paid less than minimum wage, receiving no lunch breaks, and for not being paid overtime. My client who did not speak English and knew little of the legal system was very nervous, I could see it in the way he folded the edges of papers in front of him as we waited for the hearing to begin. I knew I had to be strong for him and Attorney Prado Alvarez would be strong for me. We laid out the case, fact by fact, complete with detailed calculations until we went through every issue in the case. About two weeks later, the judgment arrived at the office. We had won on every issue! Seeing my name in that judgment as part of my client’s counsel was one of my proudest moments in law school. I immediately called our translator so we could share the good news with my client together.