Client Reminders

Every now and then I have clients that teach me something. Their stories remain with me long after I've forgotten their names.

Like the woman who suffered severely from anxiety due to a traumatic past, but showed up with her loving husband in their Sunday best. Her anxiety was so great she panicked like a child the moment she entered the hearing room and could only be consoled by the presence of her faithful, hard-working husband. The sincere love and concern this man had for his wife and his watchful care over her despite her debilitating condition and inability to give equally in their marriage continues to impress me.

Then there was the middle-aged man whose income most years exceeded mine but because of his line of work and a leave of absence to take care of a terminally ill father was left without any medical coverage in his time of need. He was a former athlete, who at one point even ran the Pikes Peak Marathon (!), and was now struck with terminal cancer and drowning in medical debt. This once strong and very capable man broke down in sobs after his hearing and paid no attention to my outstretched hand as he enveloped me in the strongest hug I have yet to receive from a client.

This week I had another such story. I was returning from a short vacation and ready to dive into a day packed with hearings. I was feeling the post-vacation blues and, for some reason, a bit of the "woe is me"s and I was happy to be "anxiously engaged" and mentally occupied.

My client was a young man in his early twenties but due to several serious medical conditions he was left with a body that was underweight and mangled and in excruciating pain. I had to physically assist him into the hearing room. Little testimony was taken as his poor body spoke volumes. As I helped this man back to his loved ones, I was struck with the very timely lessons that are sometimes given to us. The stark reminders that while life is never perfect, there are certainly things to be grateful for. I felt a bit of the love our Savior must have for these tender souls with their disfigured bodies. I was reminded that while on the Earth, He blessed and healed bodies like my client's and at times even wept. Though my body is strong and capable, I was reminded that, while not physically on the Earth, He still has power to heal my heart.

Immediately following this hearing, I had another client, a one year old, who due to incidents at birth was left with a similarly mangled body. Although unable to effectively use his right side, he was free from pain, and was all smiles. He was able to show us his disfigured high five and, though only one, legitimately winked at me several times throughout the hearing. The ladies better watch out when he grows up. His smiles despite his physical limitations continued to teach me the lesson I needed this week.

So today, I am grateful. I am grateful to have a working, functioning body that allows me to get up everyday and earn a living. I'm grateful to have a job with medical coverage, flexibility, and the opportunity to travel. I am grateful for a family legacy of education, healthy living, independence, hard work, and Christian values. I am grateful to know there is a Savior of the world who atoned for our sorrows, heartaches, loneliness, and physical ailments. I am grateful to know that through His atonement we can all be made whole, whether in this life or in the next, physically as well as emotionally. I am grateful to know that we have a loving Heavenly Father who knows us and who blesses us with timely reminders and lessons tailored specifically to our needs in our time of need. And I am grateful to my clients, for teaching me so powerfully.

Things Said (and Unsaid)

It's been three months, almost to the date, since my last post.
Life got pretty exciting.
So exciting that I didn't have time to write.
So exciting that even if I did have the time, I wouldn't have been able to focus.

Sometimes we have stories we can share. Sometimes we have stories we can't. (And often times, let's be honest, we have stories we shouldn't share but do anyway).

Some stories cannot be shared because when we are in the middle of them they consume us. They hit every emotion possible and the intensity at which we feel those emotions leaves our head spinning. All we can do is hold on and see how it will all unfold.

Some stories cannot be shared even after they have ended because they are too dear, too personal, too full of love, too full of pain.

And sometimes, stories cannot be shared because there is the hope that, despite reaching a climax and conclusion, there is more to the story. There is the hope that even though the story's end appears to be well-written and finalized, perhaps it's really just a beginning, a beginning to a much longer and even greater story.

The story of the past three months cannot be shared for all of the above reasons. I have other stories to tell though (if anyone still wants to read them), but I'm struggling to find the strength to speak.

Until I find my voice again, I thought I'd let someone else do the talking...

Judge:  Are we on the record?
Hearing monitor:  Yes
Judge: [to no one in particular] There's an attorney from Dallas that I see and I never know what hair color she is going to have when I see her. Sometimes it's red, sometimes it's blonde, sometime's it's brown....but with Becki, she's consistent, I always know it's going to be red. I just thought I'd get that on the record.


Niece, age 3: [at Thanksgiving Dinner] This turkey is dead. But it used to be alive right?
Us: Yes
Niece: Did the lawyer kill it?


Judge: What do you do all day?
Claimant: Nothin'....Sir, I'm a crackhead.


Judge: Good morning counselor. It's always a pleasure to see you. I see you got the pink shirt memo.


Client: [to Security Guard] I found my attorney in the parking lot, isn't that great? And wouldn't you know, I got the prettiest attorney in the parking lot.


Unknown Man in Lobby: If you were stuck with a tiger, lion, and camel and had a gun with one shot, which would you shoot?
Unsuspecting Victim in Lobby: [shrugs shoulders]
Unknown Man: I'd shoot the tiger, erase the "line" and smoke the camel.


Security Guard: You're just a baby attorney, aren't ya?


Unknown Man in Lobby: [as I walk by] You need a wedding band.


Judge: Is this some kind of joke?
Me: Uh....
Judge: Jerrilyn and Becki Lyn?
Client: It's pronounced Jerr-Lyn, no i.
Judge: Ok. Then for the remainder of the hearing you will be Beck-Lyn.
*Client's name changed above.


Conclusions that can be drawn from the above statements:

Judges like consistency.
Lawyers kill birds.
Crackheads are honest.
Female judges pay attention to your wardrobe while male judges stick to hair color
Older clients are flirty.
Older men in small towns think they're funny.
I apparently look like a baby (again).
I need to get married.
And certain judges like to tease female baby attorneys with red hair and double first names by refusing to call them by their last name which is proper protocol.

Reconciling Faith, Gender & Career

I was raised by a college-educated mother who chose to stay home and raise her five children full-time. I was blessed immensely by my mother's decision and appreciated her sacrifice and availability. Her job was not easy. Amidst raising five children, my mother decided to return to school and earn a Master's degree in education. I remember this well as I was in junior high school at the time and required to help out by cooking one meal a week for the family when my mom was at class (or at least that's how I remember it). Perhaps this is the only time in my life that I cooked on a regular basis.

Despite earning her advanced degree, my mother had no immediate plans to return to the workforce. That return would not come for another ten years when her youngest was on his way out of elementary school. Even though my mother did not work when I was in her home, she taught all of her children by example the power of education. All of her children have gone on to receive advanced degrees, except for the youngest and only because he's still too young.

As a school teacher, I never really felt the need for a career plan (although maybe I should have had one?). But as an attorney learning to lean, I find it imperative. This is new territory for me and there's even a small sense of guilt as I contemplate my future. I had always hoped that by now I would be whisked away in eternal marriage bliss and stay home and make babies. Even though this is not the case, I still feel like I need to consider this option as I move forward in my career. I'm beginning to realize a lot of women do this as well. We plan for something we hope will come even though it may not be for ten more years down the road. I'm not saying that we shouldn't hope to have a marriage and a family one day (I do!) but I'm wondering if the hope for it holds us back sometimes and prevents us from accomplishing great things in the meantime.

I believe that "there is no superior career, and no amount of money, authority, or public acclaim [that] can exceed the ultimate rewards of family."* I, therefore, believe that being a full-time mom is a highly noble calling. I applaud my mother, sisters, and friends for accepting this calling even though it is not always easy. I hope to join them one day.

Despite knowing this, I am beginning to see that some women may be called to work. Even if they can afford to stay at home and even if it it's not their first choice. I was conveying this idea of being called to work to another young, single, female attorney of faith last weekend. I felt almost blasphemous expressing these thoughts, like I was betraying principles I've embraced, believed and taught.

One joy of being a woman is that we have a myriad of paths to choose from. Many of us will jump back and forth between these paths several times through out our lifetime. There is no rigid course we must follow. The key to determining which path is best at which time for us individually is personal revelation. My path may not be the same as yours and that's okay as long as it is the path I am supposed to be on.

With these ideas of some women being called to work and the importance of personal revelation swirling around my head, I found a wonderful example in Noelle Pikus Pace, the 2014 Olympic silver medalist in the women's skeleton.

According to her Mormon.org profile, she retired from the sport after 2010 because she wanted to focus on her family. But in 2012, she and her husband felt she needed to return to the sport one more time. After fasting and praying their decision was confirmed. Now she is an Olympic silver medalist. Though her career as a working mom was brief, it was fueled by inspiration, and she now has the stage and credentials to be a powerful force for good.

Though we may not all be Olympic athletes and our spheres of influence are often much smaller, I believe that women of faith have much to contribute not only to our homes but our communities and professions.

"The world has enough women who are tough; we need women who are tender. There are enough women who are coarse; we need women who are kind. There are enough women who are rude; we need women who are refined. We have enough women of fame and fortune; we need more women of faith. We have enough greed; we need more goodness. We have enough vanity; we need more virtue. We have enough popularity; we need more purity.”**

Though following a career path may at times seem in juxtaposition with the above quote, I believe women of faith can and should permeate their influence in the workforce as well.

So if your current path is calling you to reach out, step up, and lean in whether that be at home, school or work - dare I say - Do it! We need women of faith leading, guiding, inspiring, and contributing wherever they may be. Don't limit yourself by the unknown around the corner. And if you are called to work for a time or a lifetime, excel at what you do by remembering who you are and what good you can accomplish.




*Elder D. Todd Christofferson: The Moral Force of Women

**Margaret D. Nadauld: The Joy of Womanhood

Learning to Lean

I distinctly remember the first time I told someone I was an attorney. I had just flown into the Salt Lake City airport after accepting my first job and was about to start 3 weeks of new hire training. It was at the rental car counter. The agent asked,

"What brings you to town - business or pleasure?"

"Business."

"What do you do?" Pause. Hesitation.

"I'm an attorney."

Wow, that sounded weird. I held my breath. Waiting for the agent to react. Waiting for him to tell me I couldn't really be an attorney. Waiting for him to see right through me and dismiss me as a fraud.

But he didn't. Whew. Test passed.

In the weeks that followed, I continued to struggle with the questions what do you do and why are you traveling. I wished people would stop asking me. I didn't want to tell them I was an attorney. I mean an attorney is someone who knows everything about the law, who is articulate, who is outgoing, who exudes confidence and charisma. I was not those things.

I sat next to a lady on an airplane once. When she asked what I did I replied, "I'm an attorney. I know I don't look like one in my jeans. I like to travel casual." Why did I have to explain myself? Did I really expect people to think that attorneys only and always wear suits?

Slowly but surely I got comfortable telling people I was an attorney. I realized that most attorneys don't know everything. Some attorneys are actually introverts. And yes, they don't always travel in suits.

But it did take some time. The first CLE meeting I went to was after I had passed the bar but before I secured my first job. I walked into the building with trepidation wondering why I had come. I saw the sign-in table, surveyed the lecture room, and then walked right back out. I couldn't stay. I got all the way to the parking lot before I realized I was being an idiot. I was a licensed attorney. I belonged in that room like every other attorney in there.

I remember one day in law school between classes I stopped at the restroom. I remember looking at the mirror and thinking, what if I was no longer held back by fear, anxiety or self-doubt? What if I was truly free? What if we all were? How powerful would we be? How much would we accomplish?

Recently, I've felt a pull to lean in to my career. To accept who and where I am and make the most of it. I've struggled with the how and the what but the feeling is there.

I gave into these feelings, fought my anxiety, and leaned in by taking a trip to Kansas City for a legal conference this past weekend where I was surrounded by bright, successful, and well articulate men and women. While I felt more comfortable than that first CLE meeting I attended, I still felt the need to explain to one man sitting next to me that I've only been practicing for two years. Another man sat next to me and introduced himself. We started talking and I asked what he did. He was the solicitor general of Missouri. A prime example of why sometimes I wonder if I'm really in the right place.

In law school, I had three quotes I hung on my mirror to pump me up when things got tough.

1. Adidas' Impossible is Nothing quote*
2. Joshua 1:9
3. A quote by President Thomas S. Monson:

Do not pray for tasks equal to your abilities, but pray for abilities equal to your tasks. Then the performance of your task will be no miracle, but you will be the miracle.

I am by no means a miracle, but I certainly know how to pray.

Sheryl Sandberg has asked the question: What would you do if you weren't afraid?

And so I ask you. What would you do? How would you act? Who would you be?


*Adidas quote:

Impossible is just a big word thrown around by small men who find it easier to live in the world they've been given than to explore the power they have to change it. Impossible is not a fact. It's an opinion. Impossible is not a declaration. It's a dare. Impossible is potential. Impossible is temporary. Impossible is nothing.

Changing of the Guards

 

With my job there is very little routine. Sure, there are routine tasks, such as prepping cases, calling clients, writing hearing briefs, etc., but there is no routine schedule. No two weeks look the same. Some mornings it takes me a few minutes to even remember what city I am in, let alone when my hearing starts. Those things always change.

So when there are constants in my ever-changing week, I appreciate them. For example, this morning I was in Corpus Christi. I knew that I would park at the 10 hour meter parking that costs only 50 cents an hour. I knew that the front desk lady would wave Good Morning and smile at me like we knew each other better than we did. I knew I would take the elevator to the 16th floor with the great ocean view. I knew the assigned Judge would ask me to pass along well wishes to a fellow attorney,  even though he and I both know he doesn't actually mean it due to their disagreeable past. And I knew that Derek*, my good security guard friend, would be waiting for me, to discuss sports as usual.

Derek loved baseball, especially. In fact, he had played at the University of Houston and for the Corpus Christi Hooks. He stopped when his son was born so he could be close to home. He recently started playing on weekends for a league in Mexico. Or so he told me.

A few months ago the topic of conversation was college football. We talked about Texas, Kevin Sumlin, Case Keenum, etc. I don't know everything about college football, but I know enough. He had remarked,

"You mean to tell me - you're not married, and you don't have a boyfriend, and you know this much about football? Some guy is going to be really lucky."

"Well, if I ever find one, I'll send him your way so you can tell him that."

"Send him. I'll tell him."

So I liked Derek and was looking forward to seeing him. I had failed to follow the college bowls as closely as I usually do though and was a little worried I wouldn't be able to keep up my image as a girl-who-knows-enough-about-football.

I was surprised when I exited the elevator to see someone, other than Derek, sitting in his seat by the window.

"I'm used to seeing Derek here, is he taking the day off or something?" I ask the new guard.

"No, he got arrested."

"He got arrested?!"

"Yeah, he won't be coming back."

"What did he get arrested for?"

"Impersonating a U.S. Marshal. It was all over the news. You can check it out online."

"What?!"

I hadn't known it before, but apparently Derek was known around the department for telling tall-tales.  (So about playing baseball for UH, the Hooks, and Mexico...)

The judge was running late and I immediately search for the news story on my phone. Sure enough, there it was: "Tow Truck Driver Claims he was Ordered at Gunpoint to Tow a Car." Holy cow. He was arrested along with his passenger who was charged with drug possession.

I'm used to hearing stories like this, but from my clients, not my security guard friends who at times have to protect me from my clients (this happened once). I guess people are more than meets the eye, but dang it, sometimes I wish they weren't. I'm certainly hoping this was an aberration, an error in judgment, and even though he'll spend time behind bars, he'll get out and not be such an idiot. He was doing something right in his life at least at one point to have passed a background check and drug test and get issued a gun. But man, shape up people. Say no to drugs. Think before you act. And leave the tall-tales, half-truths, and flat-out lies at home. Better yet, leave them all together.

For now, I'll have to get used to New Guard and wait for time to turn him into a Corpus Christi constant. I hope it doesn't take long and I certainly hope our relationship doesn't end quite so dramatically. Until then, I'll try to enjoy the ocean view. It's a much better view than the one behind bars.

*No, I did not use his real name or link to the article. If you want to find it, you can. Even though I'm sharing his story here, I though I'd spare him at least that.