There. I said it.
I never wanted to be a lawyer. Wait, I take that back. When I was in fourth grade, I found a lawyer coffee mug at the mall and my parents bought it for me. The mug was emblazoned with the scales of justice on one side and inspirational words like "equality" and "advocacy" on the other. And my simple nine year old brain was inspired. I truly did want to be a lawyer then, not that I knew what that actually entailed--only that it was a profession that my parents would respect...second to being a doctor, naturally. I then told some of my teachers that I wanted to be both a doctor and a lawyer. What an insane kid I was.
I never wanted to go to law school. For most of my senior year of college, I contemplated applying to history Ph.D. programs. I loved history so much, especially research and writing, and spent three contented years holed up in the Yale archives helping my thesis adviser research his book on Yale history. My parents were horrified by my pie in the sky idea and harassed me with endless stories about some fictional family friend who allegedly received his Ph.D. from Harvard but couldn't find a tenure track job and ended up earning peanuts as an adjunct at some podunk college in the middle of nowhere. I was only twenty when I graduated and too immature to resist the societal and parental pressures to do something "practical;" my own ego was involved too, I'm sure. And so I succumbed to the coercion and halfheartedly set off for Columbia Law School. Granted, I later figured out that the history Ph.D. program wasn't the right fit for me either, but seven and a half years after graduating from law school, I still wonder whether the money and effort spent on a J.D. were worth it. At least the Ph.D. program was free.
I pursued the path of a corporate lawyer because that was what nearly everyone at Columbia did. It was the path of least resistance and it seemed to make the most sense since I was graduating with an enormous amount of debt. I discovered rather quickly that I hated life at a big New York City law firm, but I quashed my unhappiness and tried to suffer through the 3am nights, the insane deadlines, and the abysmally dull work. Life weighed heavily on me then, and I wished during numerous morning commutes that a taxi would hit me as I crossed the intersection. By some “miracle,” I broke my knee on my way home from work late one night; that I was thrilled about about my injury was a sign I needed to leave. I worked up the courage to leave my law firm shortly thereafter, but my decision was met with vitriol and resentment and petty behavior. And even after all that, I've found myself trying to return to the legal profession in various incarnations over the years because it was what I “ought” to do. It's like trying to hammer a round peg into a square hole.
When I recently mentioned that I had started interviewing with law firms in Denver, my friend and law school classmate RC emailed me this:
"Please don't go back to big firm life. Back when I was an associate, I wrote myself an email titled, 'This is your job' and described how miserable I was at the time. I recently had to go through some old work emails to find a writing sample, and it had me on the verge of tears. I mean, it's been *years* since I was there and I'm still not completely past it. It's a horrible, abusive environment that absolutely mutilates anyone with a nimble mind and any sort of creativity. Don't go back, please."
A powerful paragraph that made me pause for a long time. But it's not just law firm life that I hate--it's being a lawyer in all respects. I tried being a lawyer at a government agency and found it to be dull and uninspiring. Quite honestly, my personality isn't suited for legal work. The closest I've come to loving my job was when I worked for Senator Specter (D-PA) as his tax/trade/budget/economic policy/banking/financial services/steel/commerce/manufacturing/telecom counsel. But that position was more about politics and policy than it was about law. Looking back, I think that what I loved most about that job was the interaction with my amazing colleagues and boss and being in the trenches together, feeling like we were part of something greater. And even still, I don't think I'd want to go back to Hill life. I don't know what I want to do. I feel like I have a higher calling--what it is, I don't know yet.
This past Sunday, my mother and I had a frank conversation about how I had held several prestigious positions over the years and how I didn't like any of them. I mentioned that in the middle of my second year of law school, I called home upset and told her that I didn't like law school and that I didn't want to be a lawyer. She had been aghast.
"You're not going to quit, are you?" she had screeched.
"Of course not," I had responded rather crossly.
And I didn't quit, I reminded my mother, but look where I am now. She and I laughed and joked about it, which is an amazing testament to how far our relationship has come. Then again, she also said, only half in jest, "You should have been a doctor." Some things never change.
No comments:
Post a Comment