Lessons Learned from the AYLA Front

Over the past year, my AYLA President’s Columns have ranged from political to aspirational— with a heavy helping of endorsements of AYLA events and programs. My term as president is now coming to a close. At the risk of writing a meandering memoir as my final column, I have done more or less exactly that. Mea culpa.

Herein lie lessons learned as an officer of the best law-related group in the State of Texas these past six years. None of the content herein has been empirically verified. It is, instead, merely the product of my own flawed observations and resulting opinions. Abandon all hope, ye who enter here.

It is a quirky irony that by the time you become president of a major city’s young lawyers association, you are not particularly young anymore. I have now been an attorney for a decade. My portrait hanging in Hilgers House adheres to the time-honored lawyer tradition of using a headshot of a far younger self than is appropriate. I now have grey in my beard, two children, and legal mentees of my own. I was also recently reminded that I am close to aging out of the Texas Young Lawyers Association. (Thanks, Jenna.) Institutional knowledge matters, though, and that kind of knowledge requires the kind of gradual osmosis that only time and experience can provide. There is wisdom in how the system works. I learned and relearned many lessons from my time with AYLA, sometimes the hard way and sometimes not. I dare hope someone might cherry-pick one herein to dust off and put to good use.

Boards, committees, and other groups require a critical mass of engaged members to produce a stellar—or even just adequate— product. Engagement is usually contagious, but it is nowhere near as contagious as shirking. If you find yourself as a leader, do it from the front if you want more of the former than the latter. Few will follow your lead if it comes more often as dictates rather than by example. Thankfully, my time as AYLA president has been spent surrounded by a slew of dedicated and wonderful people, and thus the contagion of engagement this past year has been mutual.

Preparation matters. Running a meeting will be far more productive if you first take the time to read and understand the agenda—not to mention preparing one in the first place. Impromptu speeches are fun and impressive when someone can pull them off, but they usually would have been better with some time and energy spent beforehand. The same goes for events and programs. The devil lies in the details, and it’s hard to dial in any details for an event when you are figuring out the basics on the fly.

Personal relationships matter. Board members who are—or who become—friends are more likely to feel compelled to work hard to avoid letting the others down. Disappointing an acquaintance isn’t nearly as painful as disappointing a friend. For the same reason, fundraising for groups such as AYLA usually struggles whenever the soliciting party is a stranger. Seeking contributions from friends or colleagues you know and have worked with—or against—is far more fertile fundraising ground. In the competition between the door-to-door salesman and the adorable niece selling Girl Scout cookies, the niece will always win.

Taking pride in your work product matters. Debbie Kelly— the heart and soul of AYLA who deserves more credit than the entire board combined for any given bar year—often comments on the fact that the AYLA board of directors is made up of volunteers. No board member gets paid for their time and trouble, and it is easy to set aside AYLA duties for work and home. Duties at work and home are certainly more important. People remember and people talk, though. Developing a reputation as a competent—or incompetent—individual can follow you for a long time. Transcending just what others think, pride is personal. No one (I hope) walks away feeling good about themselves from a program or event they ran poorly. In contrast, running a successful charity or social event provides a usually much-needed personal “win” that can carry you for some time. Stacking up multiple wins compounds over time in terms of the respect you gain from others and from yourself.

Adaptability and resilience are key for retaining sanity. You might not obtain the grant funding you expected, you might not get the event turnout you hoped for, and on any given task you might not live up to your own standards. The way things have worked for you and your organization in the past might not work again. There is always tomorrow to try again or try something new. Failures are just part of the process.

Lastly, being involved in your local legal community matters. I probably could have billed more hours at work these past six years and gotten more sleep, but the benefits I have gained by being involved far outweigh the costs of admission. I have gained friends, contacts, mentorship, community engagement, personal and professional development, public speaking opportunities, and personal pride and respect. I am very happy I chose to get involved, and very lucky to have done so alongside so many great people. I would encourage everyone to find their own niche and do the same. You might just learn something along the way.