i used to be a republican (sorry).
πΆ Reason - Yaoriβ
HUGE update on my book: I'm going to be an author!!!!! I can't say much more at the moment, but stay tuned for future news and my "road to book deal" vlog on YouTube. I've learned so much about the publishing industry in the past few months, and I'm still in shock about everything, really. I was running back and forth between conference rooms at NAPABA and the hallways to take calls from my lit agent, and it was honestly the most surreal experience. It still feels surreal. Eight months ago, when I first left the comfortable confines of W-2 life, I could not have imagined being able to reach this point... and now, here I am. (I know, I know--I still have to write the book, but it's good to enjoy the wins when you can! Plenty of time later on for my anxiety to take hold, as it usually does.)
Onto this week! In honor of elections yesterday, I come clean about my past as a Republican and member of the Federalist Society, touching upon my former stance on affirmative action. (My stance since then has clearly changed.) I then answer two reader questions about how long one should stay at a legal job and the potential embarrassment of having to tell recommenders that you didn't get into whatever program they recommended you for. Have a fantastic week!
the sticker price of power.
I used to be a Republican. I wasn't like the other Republicans, though--I was a cool Republican (or so I thought), one that registered as an Independent and would say things like, "I'm socially liberal but fiscally conservative." I read a lot of Ayn Rand and F. Scott Fitzgerald because it made me feel smart, a sort of high school intellectual masturbation. My high school boyfriend, whom I thought was extremely cool and intelligent at the time, didn't believe in climate change and voted for third-party candidates. We talked sometimes about politics, feeling superior about how evidence-based and rational our beliefs were in comparison to others'.
When college admissions results came out and my application was unceremoniously rejected by all of the Ivy League schools I had applied to except for Yale, my ego was, predictably, majorly bruised. Wasn't I smart, after all? Didn't I get the best grades? Hadn't I done everything "right," like others had told me to?
If you had asked me back then whether I supported affirmative action, I probably would have said no. I didn't understand why affirmative action was necessary, why people didn't just study harder. But the bigger thing, in retrospect, was that I just didn't care about other people. I cared about myself and wanting to amass power for myself. It wasn't that I purposely didn't care about others--rather, I passively didn't care about others, because caring about others required mental energy, which I preferred to reserve for thinking about my own advancement in society. With a chip on my shoulder from college admissions results (many other students I met at Admitted Students Days were choosing between multiple Ivy League schools, to my flaming chagrin and deadening shame), I entered college wanting one thing and one thing only: power.
My parents were also anti-affirmative action and saw it as a method for schools to discriminate against Asian Americans, in direct contravention of the admissions system they had grown up with in China--heavily reliant on tests, single exams essentially determining the rest of your life. They had been fostered in that system and, moreover, thrived in that system. It was the only system they knew, and it was a system that they were well-prepared to guide me through, as well. They had already researched and signed me up for SAT prep classes by sophomore year of high school, and my mom sat me down, insisting that I create an SAT study schedule for her review and approval. They, too, wanted power for me (although they may not have called it that), and they saw every instance of affirmative action as one less spot for me, for the children of family friends, for other Asian Americans.
The Republican party, in my opinion, are excellent at two things: first, aligning themselves with the aesthetic of "old money," and second, convincing individuals that the party will foster those individuals' ascent into power and old money if they join--and show them a good time all along the way. And when I was 18, the "Grand Old Party" sounded pretty damn fun. I wanted grandeur; I wanted to be old money; and I wanted to party. What was not to love?
During 1L, it looked like staying conservative and joining the conservative legal student organization, the Federalist Society (or "Fed Soc," for short), was the right move. Before classes even started, my assigned Women's Law Association mentor turned out to be an earnest Fed Soc member and immediately began plying me with tactical information about how to get good grades (study using past exams and outlines of students who had gotten the best grades in the professor's class) and how to position myself for a prestigious clerkship with a federal appellate judge, which tacitly opens up the possibility of the ultimate law student brass ring--a Supreme Court clerkship. I felt a little overwhelmed by how fast she was throwing things at me, but I also wanted to be able to keep up and strategize along with the best of them. If this was the price of power, then it was surely a price that I would pay.
The price seemed small at first. Come to meetings, eat the catered lunches (frequently Chick-fil-a), socialize a bit, contribute your own outlines and exams after grades came out each semester. It was easy enough, and in return, someone made efforts on your behalf to track down outlines and exams for visiting professors from their former schools and a Convention fund sent you and other members to DC each year, where you got to brush shoulders with federal judges, including the prestigious "feeder" judges, whose former clerks often ascended to the ranks of Supreme Court clerks. It was the closest that I had ever gotten to that level of power, and it felt intoxicating. It wasn't until later that I realized what the true price for that level of power was.
βοΈ ask cece
how soon can i leave my first job in law? how can i figure out which practice area suits me?
Q: I graduated from law school last summer and got my first legal job as a legal consultant in banking/finance sector. (I am UK-based so the road to qualification as a lawyer is different here.) Overall, I am happy about the high level of responsibility, my team and overall professional development opportunities, but I am not excited about the products and what I actually work on. My plan is to move into international dispute resolution eventually, and I want to work in a law firm. Is there a rule as to when you should make the move? Seems like itβs globally frown upon to stay only 6-8 months (not sure if itβs a myth..)?
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Overall issue is IMO how difficult it is to figure out which practice fits you best. Would be interested to have your opinion on this too!
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- Anonymous
A: Length of time to stay somewhere before lateraling is more like cooking than baking--while it seems like there may be a precise science, there isn't. 6-8 months at your first job isn't the worst thing in the world, particularly if you have a strong reason (such as practice area interest) for the move. A consistent string of 6-8 months at jobs, on the other hand, does raise red flags, as it can lead reviewers of your resume to wonder why you haven't been able to stay anywhere for longer than a year. In general, a good rule of thumb is to try to stay at least a year at your jobs, but by no means force yourself to stay somewhere if you are miserable. (And if you find yourself miserable every single time, it may be time to take a step back to evaluate what type of work makes you feel happy and fulfilled.)
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Practice areas can be a bit tricky to figure out, but it's actually a lot easier to figure practice areas out once you're already in practice as a lawyer. Take the time to talk to other attorneys at your company about what they do and what they like and don't like about it (if you are comfortable with them and don't think they're going to view you exploring practice areas as a negative), reach out to attorneys at other companies for informational interviews, and share with friends in other practice areas and companies--getting your foot in the door is often the hardest part of the legal profession, but once you're in, the opportunities to learn more and connect with other lawyers comes in like a flood. Take advantage of the greater resources that you now have at your disposal. While there are online resources for learning more about practice areas (as covered in my FAQs), there's no better resource than real-life discussions with lawyers in the practices that you want to learn about. Prepare some thoughtful questions for them about their day-to-day, the skills they use, and the elements which they like and dislike.β
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This is a process that will help you even outside of the law. My own calendar is full of informational interviews as I schedule time to chat with musicians, writers, editors, producers, etc., to learn more about industries outside of the law. One question that is always great to ask at the end of these informational interviews is, "Can you think of two other people whom I should talk to?" That helps ensure that follow-ups aren't lost in inboxes and gives a concrete next step for yourself, as well. Good luck!
if i don't get accepted, am i wasting my recommenders' time?
Q: Hey Cece, I am currently in the process of applying to grad schools for highly competitive Comp Sci programs as an international student. I feel that in case I do not end up getting into any of them, I would just be wasting my recommenders' time, and they might not be willing to write me letters in the future. I compromised on where I did undergrad; I do not want to for a grad school. I have the safety net of a job in case I don't get into my choices, so I've decided not to apply to safety schools. Help me rationalise this period of grad school applications.
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- Anonymous
A: While I don't have enough information to truly comment on whether applying to grad schools is the right path for you, I will say that you seem to be in an incredible position to only apply to the programs which you want to attend--it's awesome that you already have the safety net of a job. With that in mind, it seems absolutely appropriate to limit your applications--applications take effort, after all, and I always encourage others to take more time before deciding to go to grad school rather than make any hasty decisions that implicate 5+ years of their lives. If you aren't truly excited about a program, don't go--5+ years is a long time.
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On the point about wasting your recommenders' time--rest assured that they will not view it that way. It's easy from the student perspective to view recommendations as a huge burden and potentially embarrassing if you don't get into the program (or get the job or fellowship or whatever the recommendation is for), but from your recommenders' perspective, supporting their former students is part of their job. If they agreed to write a strong recommendation for you in the first place, they want to see you succeed. If they didn't care to support you in your endeavor, they would not have agreed to write for you in the first place. Moreover, they have written recommendations for plenty of students before that have not worked out--in fact, they themselves have certainly solicited recommendations for jobs, programs, and fellowships which they have not gotten.
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It's always easy to treat your recommenders as gods, but to help put things into perspective, I really enjoy writing and perusing other's anti-resumes--essentially a list of all the things which the person was rejected from--because it really crystallizes that the important thing in life isn't about getting everything that you apply to, but rather about continuing to try. (As potential inspiration, I found these two Penn lecturers in CS for you.) In particular, when it comes to smaller programs such as grad schools, your wins-to-losses ratio will likely be 1:9--and that is okay. Although in a different context, my very successful, professor friend's words may provide some comfort to you. It may seem like your recommenders are extremely successful and will judge you for wasting their time if you don't get into any programs, but I assure you that is more of your own self-judgment than theirs. Keep your head up, and don't be so hard on yourself <3