Forging The Path That Works For You
We get so caught up in following the path we think we should be taking that we sometimes forget to consider the path we want to take.
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Ed. note: This is the latest installment in a series of posts on motherhood in the legal profession, in partnership with our friends at MothersEsquire. Welcome Emily Hunter Plotkin to our pages.
The law provides many different paths to success. The hard part is finding the one that’s right for you. We get so caught up in following the path we think we should be taking that we sometimes forget to consider the path we want to take.
That was where I found myself in 2018. My husband and I had both chosen career paths based on what we thought we should be doing. We had both gone to law school, both spent time in Biglaw, then both moved up the standard trajectory to solid, in-house jobs with Fortune 500 companies. On the home front, we had two active elementary-age boys. Any time not working was spent shuttling them to their activities or trying to squeeze in a little time for ourselves. From the outside, it looked like we had figured out this whole work-life balance — we had the work, we had the family, we had our health, and we even found some time to travel. But instead of feeling balanced, we were on a seesaw, constantly teetering back and forth and poised to fall hard with one wrong step.
At work, I attended a women’s leadership development program. I had said I wanted a seat at the table. I said it because that was what I was supposed to say. But then someone asked, “Is this the hill you want to die on?” I realized that it wasn’t. I didn’t actually want that seat at the table, no matter the cachet of a leadership position at a Fortune 500 company. I will help others take that seat, but I did not want it for myself.
What did I want? I knew that deep down, I enjoyed the practice of law. I also wanted to be a working mom role model for my boys, but how could I do that when all they saw of me was the desperate charge to get them out the door in the morning and a similar struggle in the evening to get them to bed so we could start all over the next day?
I began taking stock of the specific nuggets of the practice of law that meant the most to me. Much of my practice had been spent in mediation, and I realized I enjoyed facilitating successful resolution. Similarly, I loved figuring out creative solutions to solve sticky workplace compliance issues. To that end, I also loved training my clients and sharing ways to issue spot to prevent small situations from morphing into massive meltdowns.
The idea of hanging out my own shingle to practice employment law and provide mediation services was starting to brew. But I was also that typical risk-averse lawyer who was scared of taking such a huge leap. When and how would I do it? Could my family support it? Was I committing career suicide or inadvertently setting women back by declining the offered seat at the table? Could this same type of choice be available to a lawyer dad, or is it considered a “mommy-track” role?
Fortuitously, an opportunity found me in academia — Professor of Legal Writing at our local law school. This fit my personality perfectly. It was an opportunity not only to teach but also to mentor a whole new crop of lawyers. Some of these lawyers would thrive in Biglaw, some would put out their own shingles, some would enter the public sector or focus on public interest. Probably some would end up in academia themselves. Specifically, though, I would be teaching them a practical skill that they could use no matter what type of path they ended up taking themselves.
In the summer of 2018, I created my new path — part time law professor, part time solo practitioner. I focused my career on the specific aspects of the law that I love: counseling, facilitating, and teaching. Having stripped off the meaningless obligations, I have more time for each of the roles that mean the most to me: mom, wife, daughter, friend, and lawyer.
Back to those questions I asked myself. The when and how turned out to be easy — find a job, start when the semester starts, and hang out the shingle at the same time. Could my family support it? Yes, because they got me in return. Was I committing career suicide? No more so than taking a seat at a table that I didn’t want and failing miserably. By not taking the seat, I also left it open for someone who did want it, and kept opportunities open for me to find a seat at a table that fit me better. Is this choice one only for the lawyer mom to make? No. If the lawyer dad wants to choose a different path than the one he is on, he can do it, too. For us, our lawyer dad has found his niche, is very happy in it, and has no desire to change paths. Part of choosing the right path is accepting and supporting others’ own paths. We have done that for each other.
This path I have chosen is my own path. It may still move in any number of directions. It’s also a path built on previous decisions. I have the confidence to take this path because of my experience in private practice and in-house. I also have the confidence after taking the time to watch some of my lawyer mom friends forge their own amazing and unique paths. Some have found success in the corporate world, some have found success running their own practices, some have found success at the forefront of political causes. Seeing these women forge the paths grounded in their values made me realize I can do this. We all can do this. All it takes is recognizing that there is no single path to take, but that if you take the time to step back and focus on what means the most to you, a successful and fulfilling path will reveal itself.
Emily Hunter Plotkin is an employment lawyer, mediator, and law professor in Nashville, Tennessee. When she is not teaching legal writing, she manages her own practice advising and training employers and employees on all aspects of the employment relationship, and provides mediation services to resolve any general civil disputes. She can be reached via email at [email protected], or you can connect with her on LinkedIn.
