3 minute read
As the Pandemic Continues, Refocus on Your “Why”
PRACTICE POINTERS
BY MARY ANN EPIRITU
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It is May 1, 2020, and I am at home on a video conference. In the virtual room are two Travis County judges and a handful of my esteemed peers. We are attending a segment of the Austin Bar Association’s Virtual Couch Bar event – Coffee with the Judiciary. Suddenly, a sneaker flies over my head and lands with a loud thud against the wall. I have a startled look on my face just as one judge ponders out loud the challenges that lawyers are facing as we practice law from our homes. I quickly mute my microphone and scold my dog for hurling my sneaker at me in her bid to be taken for yet another bathroom break. As I turn my attention back to my computer screen, the other sneaker flies past my face in full view of my webcam, crashes onto my desk, and knocks over the cup of coffee that I’m supposed to be enjoying with the judiciary. With that, I log off the video conference.
Every aspect of the practice of law, from attending CLE events to appearing in court, has changed due to the pandemic. Much has been written about these pandemic changes, from chronicles reporting the human condition to how-to articles on virtual conferencing and virtual officing. These changes to our practice of law can come with isolation, loss of business, challenging home environments, new court procedures, and technology, the list goes on and on.
As a criminal defense attorney, I was in court every morning. On Friday, March 13, 2020, the day started like every other day. I arrived at the office for our pre-docket meeting. My colleagues and I divided the docket among the four of us, and then we walked together to court and handled our respective docket assignments. One by one we each finished our docket assignments and returned to the office. On this day, I was the last
For almost two decades, my existence as a lawyer has revolved around appearing in court, seeing co-workers and colleagues daily, arguing case law before judges, trying cases to juries, and all other aspects of being in a court environment. When that existence suddenly stopped, it felt like I had been stripped of my identity as a lawyer.
As the pandemic continued and the Travis County criminal courts began holding dockets via video conference, I realized that my existence as a lawyer, or at least a criminal defense lawyer, might never truly be the same. I did not know if I would ever again feel validated as a lawyer.
This past week, I received an email from a young woman who was thinking about applying to law school, and she asked if I could answer a few questions. I agreed and she emailed her inquiries. While she had asked a dozen or so questions, each one revolved around my reasons for becoming a lawyer. As I thoughtfully wrote out my responses, I suddenly had a realization.
My reasons—my “why”—for becoming a lawyer had nothing to do with driving to a law firm every day or appearing in court.
My “why” for becoming a lawyer IS my lawyer identity, and it will always be my lawyer identity—whether I’m dressed in my lucky blue suit and strutting in front of a jury box or I’m on a Zoom conference having sneakers hurled at me by my dog.
As the pandemic continues, your practice of law may continue to evolve and change. Some of these changes may be for the better and some may not. Refocusing on your “why”—your reasons for becoming a lawyer—may give you the perspective you need to weather these changes. AL