The following excerpt about one lawyer's pro bono case helping an old man against a contractor's lawsuit is from Professor Andrew McLurg's 1L of a Ride. This is a continuation of the excerpt from a previous Lawyer Diaries blog post.
***
He couldn’t believe it. Literally. Maybe he went in believing the system would be stacked against him. When the victory finally sunk in, he just kept repeating ‘‘Thank you, thank you, thank you.’’ I was embarrassed. I was still in my twenties. Here was a man who had done and seen far more than I ever had. But for just a little bit of my time, I’d changed his life. A few days after the hearing, the receptionist buzzed me and said ‘‘There’s a man out here who says he’s your client.’’ I don’t recall the exact words of the conversation in this or other anecdotes sprinkled throughout the book. I recount their substance to the best of my ability.
Mr. Jackson did not fit the profile of the firm’s usual wellheeled clientele. I walked out to the receptionist area and there stood Mr. Jackson, still wearing overalls. He said he wanted to pay me and pulled a wad of bills from his pocket. He said it was a hundred dollars. I explained again that his was a pro bono case and that he didn’t owe me anything. But he kept insisting he had to do something for me. Finally, he said, ‘‘Mr. McClurg, I’ll tell you what. You come over to my house on Saturday and I’ll cook you supper.’’ (I had insisted he call me by my first name, but he never did.) I went. And to this day I’ve never felt more proud to be a lawyer than that afternoon, sitting in that old man’s blazing hot kitchen—he didn’t have air conditioning—eating the dinner he made for me. America is filled with ‘‘Mr. Jacksons’’—people who desperately need help with legal problems that may seem small from the outside but which dominate their lives. Our system entrusts the awesome responsibility to give that help to one group: lawyers. People tend to think of doctors as being the primary life-saving profession, but make no mistake: lawyers have people’s lives in their hands every day.
Start law school feeling proud about becoming part of a noble and honorable profession. Don’t let the people around you sour you on studying to be a lawyer. The public has a love-hate relationship with lawyers. On the one hand, they’re fascinated with the law and lawyers, as shown by the nonstop supply of books, movies, and television programming about them. On the other hand, people are quick to malign lawyers. Even total strangers will feel comfortable telling you lawyer jokes.
True story: I went on a canoeing trip with a group of law professors. You can imagine what a rollicking adventure that was. The woman at the canoe rental place asked what I did and I said, ‘‘Law professor.’’ Without hesitating, she said, ‘‘I hate lawyers.’’ Without hesitating, I said, ‘‘I hate people who rent canoes.’’ She was shocked and appalled I would say something so rude. Although the irony escaped her, I felt good about standing up for my profession. Plus, I really do hate people who rent canoes.
Lawyers aren’t perfect, and there are rotten apples in the bin of every profession, but as a fellow named Harrison Tweed said more than half a century ago: ‘‘With all their faults, [lawyers] stack up well against those in every other occupation or profession. They are better to work with or play with or fight with or drink with than most other varieties of mankind.’’ Trust that the haters and joke-tellers will be the first ones running to a lawyer when they get in trouble. Let the power of the law to right wrongs invigorate you. Let the grand tradition of lawyers in America make you proud. Be excited! If you’re not enthusiastic about law school before you get there, it will only get worse after you arrive.
Get your life in order.
The first year of law school is all-consuming. The workload and volume of material you will be expected to master will be unlike anything you’ve ever encountered. To maximize your chances for success, you need to enter law school with your full focus on it. Life distractions should be resolved before you get there. Don’t be a procrastinator when it comes to getting your housing situation or financial aid firmed up. Having to work out kinks in either while starting school will not only take away needed time and energy, it will add extra stress you don’t need. Law school will provide plenty of that. If you’re in a turbulent intimate relationship that you know deep down is going to end at some point anyway, the summer before law school is a good time to say goodbye. Don’t drag it out until after law school starts. Law school takes a heavy toll even on good relationships. No reason to jeopardize your success by wasting emotional energy on a relationship you know is already on life support.
For part-time evening-division students, resolving employment conflicts is the biggest challenge. Before beginning, you need to develop a clear plan for freeing up time to prepare for classes and to arrive punctually. Don’t put off discussing the issue and arriving at an understanding with your employer until after you start. Employment conflicts are the most common reason for part-time students failing in law school. I’ve sat through countless readmissions committee meetings listening to part-time students explain how their job didn’t allow enough time for them to succeed, along with their ‘‘new plan’’ for reducing employment hours, etc. The ‘‘new plan’’ needs to be worked out before you set foot in the door.
This excerpt is posted with permission from Thomson Reuters which holds the copyright for the work.
***
He couldn’t believe it. Literally. Maybe he went in believing the system would be stacked against him. When the victory finally sunk in, he just kept repeating ‘‘Thank you, thank you, thank you.’’ I was embarrassed. I was still in my twenties. Here was a man who had done and seen far more than I ever had. But for just a little bit of my time, I’d changed his life. A few days after the hearing, the receptionist buzzed me and said ‘‘There’s a man out here who says he’s your client.’’ I don’t recall the exact words of the conversation in this or other anecdotes sprinkled throughout the book. I recount their substance to the best of my ability.
Mr. Jackson did not fit the profile of the firm’s usual wellheeled clientele. I walked out to the receptionist area and there stood Mr. Jackson, still wearing overalls. He said he wanted to pay me and pulled a wad of bills from his pocket. He said it was a hundred dollars. I explained again that his was a pro bono case and that he didn’t owe me anything. But he kept insisting he had to do something for me. Finally, he said, ‘‘Mr. McClurg, I’ll tell you what. You come over to my house on Saturday and I’ll cook you supper.’’ (I had insisted he call me by my first name, but he never did.) I went. And to this day I’ve never felt more proud to be a lawyer than that afternoon, sitting in that old man’s blazing hot kitchen—he didn’t have air conditioning—eating the dinner he made for me. America is filled with ‘‘Mr. Jacksons’’—people who desperately need help with legal problems that may seem small from the outside but which dominate their lives. Our system entrusts the awesome responsibility to give that help to one group: lawyers. People tend to think of doctors as being the primary life-saving profession, but make no mistake: lawyers have people’s lives in their hands every day.
Start law school feeling proud about becoming part of a noble and honorable profession. Don’t let the people around you sour you on studying to be a lawyer. The public has a love-hate relationship with lawyers. On the one hand, they’re fascinated with the law and lawyers, as shown by the nonstop supply of books, movies, and television programming about them. On the other hand, people are quick to malign lawyers. Even total strangers will feel comfortable telling you lawyer jokes.
True story: I went on a canoeing trip with a group of law professors. You can imagine what a rollicking adventure that was. The woman at the canoe rental place asked what I did and I said, ‘‘Law professor.’’ Without hesitating, she said, ‘‘I hate lawyers.’’ Without hesitating, I said, ‘‘I hate people who rent canoes.’’ She was shocked and appalled I would say something so rude. Although the irony escaped her, I felt good about standing up for my profession. Plus, I really do hate people who rent canoes.
Lawyers aren’t perfect, and there are rotten apples in the bin of every profession, but as a fellow named Harrison Tweed said more than half a century ago: ‘‘With all their faults, [lawyers] stack up well against those in every other occupation or profession. They are better to work with or play with or fight with or drink with than most other varieties of mankind.’’ Trust that the haters and joke-tellers will be the first ones running to a lawyer when they get in trouble. Let the power of the law to right wrongs invigorate you. Let the grand tradition of lawyers in America make you proud. Be excited! If you’re not enthusiastic about law school before you get there, it will only get worse after you arrive.
Get your life in order.
The first year of law school is all-consuming. The workload and volume of material you will be expected to master will be unlike anything you’ve ever encountered. To maximize your chances for success, you need to enter law school with your full focus on it. Life distractions should be resolved before you get there. Don’t be a procrastinator when it comes to getting your housing situation or financial aid firmed up. Having to work out kinks in either while starting school will not only take away needed time and energy, it will add extra stress you don’t need. Law school will provide plenty of that. If you’re in a turbulent intimate relationship that you know deep down is going to end at some point anyway, the summer before law school is a good time to say goodbye. Don’t drag it out until after law school starts. Law school takes a heavy toll even on good relationships. No reason to jeopardize your success by wasting emotional energy on a relationship you know is already on life support.
For part-time evening-division students, resolving employment conflicts is the biggest challenge. Before beginning, you need to develop a clear plan for freeing up time to prepare for classes and to arrive punctually. Don’t put off discussing the issue and arriving at an understanding with your employer until after you start. Employment conflicts are the most common reason for part-time students failing in law school. I’ve sat through countless readmissions committee meetings listening to part-time students explain how their job didn’t allow enough time for them to succeed, along with their ‘‘new plan’’ for reducing employment hours, etc. The ‘‘new plan’’ needs to be worked out before you set foot in the door.
This excerpt is posted with permission from Thomson Reuters which holds the copyright for the work.
I used Steve's great site to get a 169 on the LSAT, but anyone who is seriously considering law school at this point should think again.
ReplyDeleteWatch this from Bloomberg law, law professor Paul Campos: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=V1NDrtV9e6w&feature=related
Also, here's a law grad who passed the bar who also explicitly states "DO NOT GO TO LAW SCHOOL." (and makes a lot of great videos):
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ahLdlmKAyGA&feature=relmfu
In any case, even scoring in the 96th percentile on the LSAT, I opted not to go to law school because I couldn't justify a debt load of at least 150k and very low job prospects.
Don't think that you will beat the statistics. You won't!
This was great. Thank you Professor and thanks Steve for posting this.
ReplyDeleteThank you...also, I think it's extremely rude for disgruntled law students to encourage others to not pursue their dreams and go to law school. Just b/c you didn't make it doesn't mean the rest of us are doomed to failed!
ReplyDelete