THERE IS NOT ONE WAY TO BE A LAWYER

Let’s not start this off with a lie. When Marsha Watson, Executive Director of the KBA, asked me to submit a draft for “Privileged to Be a Lawyer,” my first thought was not an ideal one. “Which column is that? The one about ethics? Or new rules? She knows better than to ask me to do research.” Yet, research I did. Caring about Marsha enough not to embarrass her by turning in an off-key article, I looked up the last several columns online.1 The group of authors is diverse, distinguished, and accomplished. Let’s see where I fit in!

Am I privileged to be a lawyer? Umm, I think so? I no longer do much lawyering, you see. This column is an opportunity to celebrate how you came to law, what academic or personal barriers you found a way to overcome or remove, and what your law practice means to you. Because my life story is mostly unremarkable and full of privilege, my practicing law story is a short one, and my identity within this profession is an unusual one, it is best to temporarily retitle this piece to “Privileged to Be in the Profession.”

I enrolled in law school in 2007 at the start of the Great Recession, thinking law would be a good option for a stable career and, more importantly, an infallible way to avoid a real job for a few extra years. Looking back, this was a good call. I wasn’t mature enough to enter the job market at the time. I like to think 2007 Allison knew she was not ready for the “real” work force and she used that information to determine her post-college plans, but who knows. 2007 Allison was fresh off a Floridian college experience with a duffle full of flip-flops and bad makeup. Whether out of a sense of adventure or a sense of avoidance, to law school she went! Admittedly, I did some light academic flailing, but eventually found a smooth ride once I purchased 6 different Examples and Explanations 2 After graduation and the bar exam, I made my way to Knoxville. Here, I got very lucky and met Shelley Breeding, who hired me just a couple of months later. Then, a path started to carve itself. Without really meaning to, I worked on law-shaping and challenging cases, strengthened my communication skills, and became a participant in the community. Over time, I moved away from lawyering and took leadership roles on community boards, learned to be a strategic thinker, and I got to know my strengths and weaknesses as a professional. I had the opportunity to step back and ask myself where I could succeed, and I realized the answer was not within the traditional role of a lawyer. So in 2017, I moved into the services industry and led the career services department at the Lincoln Memorial University law school in Knoxville. There, I advised hundreds of law students and new lawyers, developed strategic initiatives for new programs involving alumni and marketing campaigns, and I was able to take on a birds-eye view of what a career department can be.3

After five years in the career development world4, I took a chance on a larger stage and accepted a position as a civilian attorney-advisor. I serve the J.D. recruiting component for a military branch, which means that I serve under a chief attorney responsible for the overall Judge Advocate recruitment campaign, supporting the missions assigned to our team, and offering advice and guidance to a team of Soldier-attorneys who each manage separate portfolios that support the recruitment office. This job and all of the skills and experiences needed to do it are not exactly what we think of when we ask ourselves what a lawyer does, but that is the exciting part of our profession. We could not succeed without the non-traditional components that support our work along the way. Law clerks, librarians, discovery attorneys, tech support, agency leaders, and educators are all necessary in the successful advancement of our ability to do what it is we went to law school to do. We need each other. I am privileged to be a part of the non-traditional side.

Being a lawyer is required for my job, sure, but I am privileged to be in a profession that does not limit itself to a singular function. There is no one way to be a lawyer in the profession, and for that I am grateful. As you can tell from the lack of big words in this article, I am not a typical lawyer. I was not the best student, I am not argumentative, and I am not Type-A. Instead of an over-thinker like so many members of this profession, I am under-thinker. I hear what I need to hear, make a decision, and move on. If you want me to draft something, be warned that it will not be revised and mulled over and edited within an inch of its life. It will be finished and coherent, but it will not be one of the great works of scholastic liturgy. I do not need it to be perfect, I just need it to work. My brain likes articulated conclusions, not seven-layers of analysis.5 Remember how the E&E helped me pass law school? It probably makes better sense now.

All of this, spun together, would make me the weakest attorney at some of your offices. I know that. But I am the sum of my skills and experiences, and that sum amounts to a person who can think creatively, manage multiple projects at one time, and find success as both a teammate and a leader. With time, I learned how the profession can benefit from a lawyer like me. I am Allison Starnes-Anglea, and I am privileged the profession has room for us all.

1 www.knoxbar.org I know, right?!

2 If you don’t know what an E&E is, you have at least three CALI awards.

3 Career Closet, anyone?! If you have a donation of like-new suits or briefcases, email Director Jordan Houser to schedule your drop-off: Jordan.Houser@lmunet. edu.

4 I was the Director of Career Services at Lincoln Memorial University Duncan School of Law.

5 Seven-layer dip, however, I like.

By: Hon. Steven W. Sword Knox County Criminal Court, Division I