| | I found this campaign (http://firmlyrefuse.tumblr.com) at Harvard to get students to think about why they are choosing to work for firms to be interesting, particularly given the themes of this course and our conversation today about grades.
Grades for me have served to stand-in for concerted thought as to what I'm actually doing here. I have convinced myself that if my grades are good enough, I'll have options because a strong transcript resonates across different realms of employment (this is essentially the point Ben made today about the fear of having paths foreclosed). No matter what it is actually decide I want to do with my practice, I consoled myself that having a strong strong transcript wouldn't be a detriment. Probably that's true, at least in bureaucratic employment fields where such factors matter, but focusing on grades has meant that I've spent little time thinking about my purpose in earning this license. This makes it more likely that I'll funnel into EIP, because it's easy and because I haven't really thought about what I would do instead. Grades aren't the only reason I haven't set about designing an alternative, but they are a part of it. | | | I appreciate the discussion in here and elsewhere about the possibility that fear of closed doors motivates the refusal to rule out careers that might not be interesting, valuable, or even deserving of our efforts. That fear has certainly contributed to my various attempts at rationalizing my behavior since coming to law school. For me personally, however, fear seems to be an incomplete explanation for my continued reluctance to eliminate the large law firm option. I have always been a bit of an adrenaline junky. I more frequently court danger than safety and feel empowered by my desire and ability to engage in activities that would likely overwhelm or frighten others. Aside from my continued refusal to take part in any theatrical production (my heart is racing even thinking about it), fear has not been strong enough an emotion to prevent me from attempting my goals. In trying to reconcile the fact that am excited by the thought of jumping out of an airplane with the fact that I am repelled by the prospect of starting my own law firm, I've begun to realize that shame is a much more controlling emotion in my life than fear. (Admittedly the comparison might not be a completely fair one to make in analyzing the power of fear - skydiving requires only a single burst of courage while the success of striking out on my own will depend on a much more sustained effort - but I think it is useful to a degree to acknowledge the disparity in my approach to various fear-inducing activities). I am more willing to engage in high-risk, adrenaline-inducing activities than to stray from a clearly defined career path because the shame generated by failing the former is non-existent while, for me, the shame resulting from failing the latter is intense. I am inclined to say that this is a familiar emotion for those with grades-focused parents. It is more than a fear of parental disappointment - I am no longer afraid of letting my parents down. I think that, because I grew up in a success-obsessed environment, I learned to associate failure with shame. Perhaps many of you have severed this connection. It is something I am still struggling with.
-- ElizabethSullivan - 18 Apr 2012 | |
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> | I think many of the issues raised by Agnes, Matthew and others about the disconnect between what training is perceived to provide and what it may end up being in actuality is closely tied to Lissette’s point about the importance of knowing what you want to get out of a firm job. I think training at the most basic, essential level is simply exposure and experience and that doesn’t necessarily require that you work at big law. Similar to Arlene, I gained a lot of experience and exposure to law as an industry and as a system as a paralegal. After college, I worked at a boutique public interest firm that specialized in employment discrimination class-actions. As a function of the modest size of the firm, I was responsible for putting together the first drafts of complaints, motions, discovery requests and responses. I had a caseload, spoke to clients regularly and went through bankers’ boxes of discovery material. So I think things like externships and coursework can provide the exposure and experience to inform and inspire people to discover the areas of law that they may be interested in. I think having these experiences or having some idea, as Lissette noted, is really key before jumping head first into that first job post-grad, despite the overwhelming majority of people in the administration, particularly careers services, who insist that you can figure it all out when you start your firm job.
Especially in big law, I think that sense of freedom to explore is misguided. As a member of a group of attorneys, your role and opportunities to learn and grow are a function of the needs of the group. People are staffed on cases, they don’t choose them and they don’t dictate what their role is. In the large corporate firm I worked at, it was common for junior associates to rotate from practice group to practice group well into their third year and beyond, if they were still with the firm. Rotations are presented by firms as the gift of choice to law students, but what they fail to say is that the ultimate choice remains with the firm. Whether you are accepted by a practice group or continue to rotate is mostly not your choice to make. The partners in the group determine which associates they want to keep and which ones can keep rotating. Before long, rotations are more a source of anxiety than freedom. But in the end, almost everyone leaves. Senior associates are a rare breed in big law, because usually people know rather early in their careers whether they’ve been tapped to make partner. For those who have not and choose to stay, it’s just a matter of killing time. Killing time and paying dues. Work becomes perfunctory and comfort settles in. The associates I knew who didn’t necessarily come in knowing what they wanted, admitted that as law students, they couldn’t have asked for anything more than where they ended up. They got their dream firm offer, but after a few years into the job, that sense of achievement and prestige wanes, and all that remains is time, with the question of what to do next, still lingering. This is not to say that there aren’t opportunities, but without some idea of what you want out of the firm experience, it will be difficult to meaningfully engage them.
On a separate note, I share Lizzie’s experience about grades as a means to opportunities that would otherwise have been foreclosed to me. Growing up a product of the public education system, I’ve seen such metrics as grades and exams used by the system to calmly and coolly separate the deserving from the non-deserving. I found the statement on how part of the concern about grades is being captured in an identity that is not our own, striking. In part because, from my experience, good grades are what make you matter in a system that would otherwise not care. Grades and exams may not capture our identity but they have defined in my life the scope of and access to opportunity. In the US, education may be universally available, but opportunity is much narrower. I recently learned that the high school I was zoned to attend had I not been accepted to a charter school, is closing down at the end of the year because it failed to meet the required 60% graduation rate. I don’t think there’s much that separates me from those kids who will now have their school life abruptly interrupted that warrants the difference in our paths in life.
-- TiffanyK - 19 Apr 2012 |
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