An Open Letter To The ABA and Lawyers Everywhere
When I was a kid, I grew up with an overwhelming desire to fight for justice even though I knew the fight wasn’t fair. I grew up hearing stories about Thurgood Marshall and Johnny Cochran and thought that if I could just be like these men, I could help to eradicate the injustices I saw all around me.
So I set out to do just that.
As a black child, I was repeatedly told that I would have to work twice as hard to get half as much as my white counterparts, and I, like many others, internalized that belief.
I worked hard. I kept going. I kept pushing no matter what, and when I still had that fire for justice after college, I went on to law school. As a young woman, I believed that I’d be able to take part in creating the justice I’ve been seeking my entire life once I was there.
But as soon as I began law school, I realized that the legal profession, much like justice itself, isn’t blind. It is elitist, classist, racist, sexist, and lacks diversity.
It’s also designed to tear down your confidence.
Everything in law school is oriented to support the top 10% of the class or the top 5 elite schools. Those are the only people your career services office is designed to talk to, and those are the only people firms want to interview. Despite this, law schools seem to have no problem taking tuition money from 100% of the class. (And if that’s not an allegory for real life, I don’t know what is.)
As you may already be thinking, I wasn’t in the top 10% of my law school class. Not because I wasn’t smart or because I was intellectually deficient. I have the valedictorian banner and a cum laude degree in Industrial Engineering to prove it. It’s because the first year of law school shook my confidence as it was designed to do.
I felt less than, like maybe I wasn’t “cut out for this.” I finally started to internalize the shame that I had been suppressing all these years. That maybe I didn’t need to work as hard for half as much because the system was unfair. Maybe I had to work so hard because I was less. Maybe I wasn’t as smart as I believed. Maybe I wasn’t the leader I thought I was meant to be.
It took years of work to overcome those thoughts and beliefs, and I do not share this for sympathy. I share because many lawyers, regardless of their skin color, feel the same inadequacies despite graduating law school. This is a defect in how we introduce lawyers to the world of law that must be addressed.
A system that breaks down its participants and dismisses their talents, passions, and potential has ripple effects across one’s career.
Collectively, we stay in jobs we despise. We work for partners and senior attorneys who demand our time and devotion while telling us that we’re never enough.
We stay because we feel like we have no other option. We believe that because we are paid relatively well, we should suck it up and take it. At the same time, law firms treat us like a burden.
This is far from a rare occurrence. Just take a look at the complete lack of empathy in this letter from a big law partner at the beginning of the COVID outbreak. Since when does a global pandemic equate to a gravy train? Why is this partner treating his employees like they are freeloaders and criminals? Why aren’t more people questioning this behavior?
Because lawyers are afraid of the repercussions, we say nothing when the situation demands that we speak up. And right now, our society, our global community is demanding that we stand up.
There are many changes needed throughout our industry, but the ABA is the national face of the legal profession and has a responsibility to lead. While it’s true that the ABA was founded for white legal professionals and only began admitting black members in 1943, the ABA’s mission still is to “serve equally our members, our profession and the public by defending liberty and delivering justice as the national representative of the legal profession.” If the ABA plans to remain true to this mission, it must address injustice in these realms.
I am calling on the ABA to…
Do more than release a woefully inadequate statement about the racist killing of George Floyd. Begin by supporting the National Bar Association in its establishment of a Police Misconduct and Justice Task Force. Start a bail fund for protestors. Set up a pro bono initiative to represent protestors in court and make an unequivocal statement of unwavering support for the fight to end police brutality and systematic racism.
Step up and be the leader for justice and equality. Bring all members into this fight and equip them for the battle ahead.
I am calling on local and state bar associations to…
Organize legal professionals at the local level to support the organizations already providing bail and legal counsel for protestors and demanding changes to state and local police departments. Additionally, state bar associations should begin to make critical race theory and yearly anti-bias training a requirement for admission to the bar.
You may be perfectly happy taking our money for annual dues and required Continuing Legal Education courses, but churning out lawyers who do not understand and support justice for all is a failure of your own making.
I am calling on my fellow legal professionals to…
Stand with me in making these demands, speak up to make the world a better place, and remember why you went to law school. Perhaps, like me, you were drawn in by the example of a civil rights hero, and you’re proud to be counted among the profession of Barack and Michelle Obama and the notorious RBG. Law school would have you believe that unless you sat on the Supreme Court — or argued in front of it — your career is less than, you are less than. This is not true.
Just as legal professionals are needed in every corner of the country, your voice is needed. Now is the time to speak up. I’d encourage you to avoid believing you need to read more briefs, prepare more questions, or gain another skillset. All you need is to access your courage and be committed to action, even done imperfectly.
Don’t leave it up to your black colleagues to ask about the firm’s stance on racism or police brutality. When co-workers or adversaries make overtly or covertly racist comments, say something — demand more from them as legal professionals. And if your company or firm decides to issue a weak, public-relations approved statement on racism that does nothing to move our culture forward, do not accept it as a viable response.
Every day I choose to write and speak and act, understanding that perfection is not the goal. We do not need a cross-examination of the evidence, a rebuttal of my experiences, or justifications steeped in privilege.
For 15 years, I have played by those rules. Immersed in a system that downplayed my value, disrespected my drive, and ignored my contributions, that strategy has done nothing for me. Nothing for the equality and justice that the black community demands. This is not a flaw. This system was never designed for me to succeed.
Despite the challenges of being black in America, one of the greatest gifts it has given me is the ability to rise to the occasion when the moment demands it. Black women are willing to do what is right even when no one is looking. You can see examples of us speaking out everywhere. The question that remains is -
Are you willing?
(copy of a letter sent to the American Bar Association on June 5, 2020)
