Surviving the first year of practice, and lessons from the other side

Last month, in this very space, I read a candid and heartfelt article from my colleague, first-year attorney Lauren Bashir. Lauren's article provided a relatable account of the occasional embarrassment, frequent imposter syndrome, and ever-present abject terror that goes hand-in-hand with being a first year. Even after practicing law for three decades, I was astonished at how vividly the feelings Lauren described came rushing back to me. It was as if I had been transported back to 1995, the year I was admitted to the Bar.

When I started my law career, there was no Google. In fact, there was barely an internet. When our dial-up modems to access Westlaw and Lexis invariably crashed, we looked up answers in dusty books. If, God forbid, we needed out-of-state research, we drove to the LA County law library to do it. We called the clerks directly to get hearing dates, blue-backed our pleadings, and sent messengers on motorcycles to court for last-minute filings. The practical mechanics of practicing law have changed dramatically over the past three decades. But, as Lauren poignantly reminded me, the feeling of being a first-year attorney hasn't changed a bit.

As young attorneys, we all experienced waking up in a cold sweat from the panic dream in which we missed a deadline or blew a statute of limitations. But the anxiety those nightmares produced pales in comparison to the real-world stress that accompanies disappointing a senior partner. To put Lauren and her fellow young attorneys more at ease, allow me to pull back the "partner curtain" to offer some guidance - and reveal a few secrets - from the other side.

Don't let perfect become the enemy of good

Time management is an important lawyering skill that is not emphasized enough to new attorneys. For the "three essays in three hours" portion of the Bar exam, students are taught to spend exactly one hour per essay. No more and no less. Even if the first essay isn't completed in an hour, move on to the second and then do the same for the third. Although I didn't fully appreciate the strategy at the time, decades of practicing law have made it clear: The Bar examiners intentionally do not provide enough time to make the first and second essays perfect; good will suffice.

Associates customarily strive to do their best on every task, often to impress their employers. That drive and determination is admirable, and likely contributed to their initial hiring. But if not appropriately directed, it is possible for too much effort to get in the way of overall productivity. As attorneys, we believe we can do anything. But we can't do everything. Not all assignments are created equal, so it is critical to recognize and prioritize the important ones. Always be aware that there are only so many billable hours in a day. Don't hesitate to be satisfied and move on.

Older doesn't necessarily mean wiser

Even experienced attorneys don't have all the answers. And we're aware that they're not always easy to find. When partners dole out a research assignment, it's usually not until after we've spent five minutes trying to find the answer ourselves before being interrupted or, more likely, hitting a dead end.

Likely, our associates will encounter the same frustrating roadblocks. But we expect them to push on, at least further than we did, even when we suspect they will never find our desired answer. As a young attorney in receipt of a research assignment, I frequently spent too much time searching for the "right" answer even when it was clear the law was not on our side or no applicable law existed. What I didn't realize at the time was that the assigning partner already knew that and was just looking for confirmation. Associates should not be reluctant to confidently deliver their results, even when their conclusions are not what the assigning attorney wants to hear.

Attention to detail goes a long way

The television comedy series Ed (2000-2004) centered around Edward J. Stevens, a young and successful attorney employed by a prestigious Manhattan law firm. After Ed was terminated from his lucrative job, he returned to his hometown in Ohio to run the local bowling alley, where hilarious bowling-lawyering hijinks ensued. The thing that has stuck with me most about Ed is that he was fired for misplacing a comma in a contract for an important client, costing his firm $1.6 million. Ed's grammatical mistake, while intended to be comical, had the unintended side effect of scaring me into becoming a more careful young attorney.

While seasoned attorneys routinely forgive errors from their associates, we quickly lose patience when we feel those mistakes could be avoided with more effort. Proofreading is essential. Citations, cross-references, spelling, punctuation, grammar, defined terms - they all matter. Immensely. Partners are sympathetic to the fact that associates are busy and trying to turn assignments around as soon as possible. But that doesn't excuse a failure to proofread. Partners - and judges - only see the final product, not all the choices that went into it. Don't let otherwise stellar work be remembered for appearing careless, even when it's not.        

We're all in this together

As fledgling attorneys, we earnestly promise ourselves that we will never become the frantic partner who throws last-minute assignments at associates without clearly communicating what needs to be done. But sometimes, given the stress of the profession, we slip into some of the behaviors our younger selves vowed to avoid. That's not OK. We partners need to be better.

As members of the Bar, we're all in the same club. The fact that my Bar number happens to be lower than yours doesn't give me preferred status. Nor does it make me a better attorney. All it means is that I've been through your early-career experience and that I have learned, and now shared, a few helpful pointers along the way.