As a new admittee to the California bar in 1985,

I received an invitation from the  Queen's Bench Bar Association  of the San Francisco Bay Area  to attend one of their meetings. I  didn't seriously consider the idea. Arranging for a babysitter for my infant daughter and the long comm ute by train and bus to San Francisco was too challenging. Besides, I was a la wy er-why did I need a women's group? As time went on, I couldn't find a part-time legal job. As a law student, I had proof read statutes for the Californi a Law Revision Commission, served as an extern for Judge, later Justice Edward Panelli, and had worked at Santa Clara Law's legal clinic, but I didn't have enough expertise to be attractive to local firms at a time when part-time positions were rare and largely limited to those with deep experience. An interview with a solo practitioner who did criminal work went awry when I acknowledged I was still  nursing my infant daughter. He visibly blanched. I tried to volunteer for work on a Ninth Circuit immigration appeal, but was told that it wouldn't be suitable for someone with a young child, because the work would be so intense. Finding work was also complicated by the fact that my husband was nearing the end of his PhD studies, and interviewers were concerned about my home address at Stanford student housing. "How long do you plan to stay in the Bay Area?" was a frequent question.  Other than doing some very limited contract work, I earned money by babysitting-a job I could do without incurring childcare and commuting costs.

In 1988 I was admitted to the Oregon bar (those prospective employers were right that I wasn't staying in the Bay Area), and once again I was looking for work as a new lawyer. Once again, I was pregnant. In late March 1989, I saw a notice in the local newspaper that Oregon's Chief Justice would be keynoting a meeting of lawyers who were organizing a group to be called  Oregon Women Lawyers (OWLS). It was on a Saturday, so my husband could stay home with our daughter, and we wouldn't have to pay for a babysitter. Th e speakers and discussions were inspiring. Afterwards, I went up to one of the speakers, a lawyer in private practice with four children, and asked her how to combine lawyering and parenting. She said "Get involved with this organization." I then went into the foyer and put my name on the list for the planning committee for the first all-day conference, which was the only committee which didn't appear to require extensive local knowledge and expertise. In the months that followed, I became an integral member of the committee and was mentored by those with more knowledge and experience. Eventually, I had taken on so many administrative duties relating to the conference that when the legal assistant who had been doing hourly work for the organization went on maternity leave, I was named temporary executive director. As with most new groups, the early years were rocky. The ambitious vision of the board exceeded our capacity to execute that vision, and sometimes I was discouraged.  I prepared bulk mailings on our living room floor. My husband provided the computer support needed to develop a database of members. Our home phone was the OWLS phone, and in those days before caller ID, I would sometimes get obscene calls directed at women lawyers. Through it all, I learned that there truly was a unique and necessary role for women's bar associations, that the struggle to be both a good parent and a good lawyer didn't have to be mutually exclusive, and that it wasn't individua l failures and inadequacies, but societal constructs that made that pairing so difficult. I learned that women's bar associations can be agents for change and the source of lifelong friendships.

One of my mentors was Katherine O'Neil, the founding president of Oregon Women Lawyers. She had joined the NCWBA board in 1990 and brought back great ideas from other women's bar associations for us to try in Oregon. She made it possible for me to attend several NCWBA meetings and later encouraged me to apply as executive director. Through the NCWBA, I learned from thought leaders from around the United States and beyond about issues facing women in the legal profession. My career with women's bar associations wasn't planned, but it has been one that has given me opportunities that I would not have imagined. Although I will continue in a limited role as a volunteer, I now leave the administrative role for the NCWBA in Christina Simpson's capable hands. 

Anyone reading this article already knows the value of women's bar associations, so I don't need to emphasize that here. But there are some lessons to be learned from my experience that may not be readily apparent. The welcoming letter and invitation sent by Queen's Bench didn't achieve the intended result, but unbeknownst to them, it wasn't a waste of time and postage, as it did get me thinking about the role of women's bar organizations. The first Oregon Women Lawyers conference set an inspirational and welcoming tone, and the registration fee wasn't prohibitive for an unemployed new lawyer. Even though I had sat through the speeches and discussions, I had to be instructed to join and get active in the organization. I don't think I would have done so without being told individually to do so. The organization's board and committee structure was such that new lawyers were valued and made welcome, and I was allowed to take on as much responsibility as I could handle, all while being mentored by those with more experience. Finally, Katherine O'Neil and the other more senior lawyers with whom I worked over the years, both through Oregon Women Lawyers and the NCWBA, were generous with their time, insights, and suggestions, and helped me to improve my understanding of organizational best practices and the changing role of women in the legal profession.

If I could turn back the clock to 1985, I would tell that new California lawyer to take the train to San Francisco to meet the women of Queen's Bench!

Please invite your members to join us on Wednesday, May 20 at 11:00 am PDT for a free webinar featuring lawyers and gender bias experts Andrea Kramer and Alton B. Harris, who will discuss themes from their book,   It's Not You, It's the Workplace: Women's Conflict at Work and the Bias that Built It.  There is no charge to attend, but we do ask for advance registration. Click here for the link.

 

Our 2020 Women's Bar Leadership Summit won't be quite the same this year as we have reluctantly made the decision to forego an "in person" Summit in Chicago. But we hope that going virtual will give us a chance to engage with even more of our colleagues to share the insights, best practices and new relationships that have been the hallmark of past Summits. Stay tuned for more details as they develop!

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