All in Well Being

“When did you feel like you really ‘became’ a lawyer?”

This question was posed by the State Bar of Wisconsin on its social media today, and because I am on deadline and should be writing about [things that are my actual work] and instead I am procrastinating, I responded with a small treatise.

But it’s a topic I think is worthy of more exploration, particularly as new graduates get sworn in (thank you diploma privilege) and start working. There will be growing pains. I am 14 years in and although there are no moments where I don’t feel like a lawyer (perhaps to my family’s chagrin), I still occasionally struggle with imposter syndrome (as I think many of us do) and wonder just how I got here.

Welcome, Law Students? I'm Sure You've Got Questions

Hi, students I may have met or who may have stumbled upon this through other means. I’m happy to answer questions—I respond well to a social media “subpoena” even though I know I don’t have to and probably shouldn’t. Here are 10 of the answers I’ve given over the years when law student and new graduates have asked about what I didn’t know in law school but should have.

On “Professionalism” and Professionalism

I remember we got the Character & Fitness talk, the one telling us to get help if we needed help (but disclose the help on the application, please) and otherwise focusing on our missteps and how that could cost us bar admission. The professor giving the talk, a Jesuit priest who taught ethics and evidence, admonished us to sanitize our social media: “Do not post pictures of you doing keg stands, wearing naught but a thong.” It was not professional, he said.

On Lawyering, And Snark Blogging, When The World Is On Fire

I have been derelict in updating this blog most of this summer, despite the promise to myself that I’d have fresh and exciting new content every 10-14 days and quick hits in between. Of course, when I made that promise to myself it was October 2019.

And I do have a bunch of half-written entries and prompts floating around, ranging from a February piece-in progress on the illusion of work-life balance (which, to be fair is still an illusion now, except I’m not writing about those weird feet-on-the-beach pictures or Bar events anymore) to three lines in an entry titled: “So It’s Come To This: The Ethics of Using Mail in 2020.” But it’s been hard to see things to completion and publication.

That’s because everything is hard, and it’s been hard.

In Case of Emergency, Break Everything

I routinely counsel others on how to prepare for emergencies we don’t like to talk about—our ethical duties to our clients continue even if we become disabled, or die (though Wisconsin’s Office of Lawyer Regulation does not routinely prosecute violations posthumously, and we can be grateful for those small favors). I’ve handled more than one call from someone who ended up in the no-good-deed-goes-unpunished scenario of having a bunch of files dumped in their office from a grieving and panicked spouse with little more than a “now what?”