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Litigation News

Fall 2024 Vol. 50, No. 1

A Master Class in Surviving as a Woman Attorney

Tiega Noel Varlack

Summary

  • A collection of essays that allows the reader to reflect on why she chose the path of an attorney.
  • It covers everything from impostor syndrome to substance abuse and recovery, to rainmaking. 
A Master Class in Surviving as a Woman Attorney

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In many ways, Her Story: The Resilient Woman Lawyer’s Guide to Conquering Obstacles, Book 2, is my story. This collection of essays from the ABA Litigation Section’s Woman Advocate Committee offers readers a proverbial master class in surviving as a 21st century woman attorney.

The book, spanning 440 pages, is broken into chapters covering everything from impostor syndrome to substance abuse and recovery, to rainmaking. The authors are a tribe of attorneys, judges, and former practitioners who share a common connection of membership in the Litigation Section, all having served in various leadership positions.

Each chapter contains about eight essays written in first person. They begin with a short narration of the author’s history and professional background and are followed by advice drawn on wisdom from hard-fought lessons. The essays end with a sketch of the author, including her work in the section, current location, education, and area of practice. Each chapter concludes with questions for the reader pertaining to the topic covered in the chapter.

In this way the book becomes a teachable text. It would also be a great edition to a “woman in the law” class or for self-study or an audit of oneself and one’s place in the legal landscape. At times both hilarious in its relatability and painful in explaining our collective hurts, the book takes the reader to the heart of practice and life, which is often mentally challenging, physically exhausting, and socially isolating; sometimes leading us to question at times why we even chose this path.

The essays are pure gold. One, “Mandatory Magic,” took me back to my days as a first-year associate in Silicon Valley’s high stakes cutthroat environment. Therein, the author talks about conjuring black girl magic, in her first pass at succeeding as a black female associate in big law.

My face reddened in embarrassment for the author, as she described the all-too-familiar dance of being second and triple guessed by white male partners and having her work judged by less senior co-workers.

The essay culminated in the author being asked to prepare a declaration which she had not yet done. Rather than ask for help, the author used her firm’s internal document bank to find examples, which she then used to draft the declaration. When she presented it to the partner, he took the document and marched into another associate’s office, who was junior to the author, and asked loudly whether the declaration contained the “federal language.” The associate quickly scanned the document and said that it did not. Frustrated and on the verge of breaking down, the author bolted from the room and rushed to the library to scour materials for this magical federal language. When she finally found it, it consisted of declaring that the document was “true and correct.”

This magic federal language had been in the declaration all along. Vindicated, the author marched back to the partner’s office, handing him the declaration and the statute and asking him what language she was missing. Knowing she had won this test, the author backed out of the partner’s office smirking. “Smart ass” he grumbled, as she retreated.

It is that kind of agency for oneself and spirit of “can do” that makes this book such a great read. Black, white, single, married, straight or gay, we as women litigators all share the fear of rejection where our efforts are judged by wins and losses every day. But essays like “Mandatory Magic” teach us to address our agency, own it, and save ourselves. We do this by continuing to believe in ourselves.

Other essays outline the resilience and scrappy spirit women in litigation share. Our foremothers of yesteryear, who came up in firms wearing men’s suits and bows tied around their necks, paved the way for jeans in the office and skirts in court. Her Story gives us this history through firsthand accounts and more.

There are also stories of non-traditional career pivots, like that of Stephanie Stuckey, who at 53 started over as CEO of her family’s gift shops. Taking the business back from the verge of bankruptcy and growing it to a multi-million dollar success, this former litigator shows through her own story that it is never too late to start over.

The book also contains a few essays from men and a statistical breakdown of women in the profession with the familiar metrics of attrition and the effect having children has on one’s career trajectory.

My only criticism is also a plea for Her Story 3. We need to hear from more solo practitioners, junior lawyers, law students, and litigation dropouts for a broader picture of navigating and practicing resiliency in our ever-changing legal landscape. Women lawyers in any size firm and at any stage of their career can only benefit from the shared wisdom and insight that could come with broader retelling of so many individual stories.

This book is not to be missed. I will turn to it again and again for guidance as I continue to navigate and write my own story.

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