A big law firm is recruiting me pretty heavily to join their ranks. I know. I’m as surprised as you are. Isn’t it obvious from my resume that I ran from Big Law as fast as my legs could carry me? I did that during the Great Recession, too. My antipathy toward Big Law runs deep. The lawyers I’m talking to are messing with my head, though. They are testing me. The people seem so nice, and the work so compelling, the hours expectations so reasonable, and the money so tempting. It’s the security I’m really after. Watching the world get rocked for the last year makes has a way of making me want to fold myself into a big company that will carry me and my family through the worst waves. My commitment to charting my own course, I fear, is not pandemic proof. I think I’ve made up my mind to stay put and then every interview throws me off. I can’t see if the behemoth I’m looking at is a storm or a freighter with a lifeline. The only thing that’s clear is that they want me.
“I hope you don’t take this the wrong way,” my husband puts out there, his foot halfway to his mouth, “but why do they want you so badly?” That, at least, is easy to answer.
- Because there aren’t that many people who do what I do.
- Because I have a unique set of skills and experience.
- Because I have a stellar reputation.
- Because I have a killer resume.
- Because I have valuable industry contacts.
- Because I interview really well.
- Because I’m smart as shit.
- Because I’m personable as hell.
- Because I have a track record.
- Because I’m a good firm citizen.
- Because I’m a woman.
- Because I would make them a ton of money.
It’s that last bullet point that’s driving the day, for them and for me. Big law is a numbers game, a leveraging, a squeeze. It’s exploitation, point of fact. Looking at that list, I can’t help but think, if I’m such hot shit, why don’t I make all that money for myself?