How to Be an Entrepreneurial Attorney (On a Road Less Traveled)
I sat in that office tower conference room. A young Associate in a perfectly appropriate black Ann Taylor suit. I was a 27-year-old mom of two. And I looked across the conference room table at the handful of male partners —all of whom were at least 40 years older than me. I had the education, the grades, the clothes, the manners and the opportunity. I dutifully reported the latest securities law compliance guidance to our investment advisor clients. But I knew this wasn’t going to work long-term. These clients didn’t understand me and, frankly, I didn’t understand them.
Twenty years later. Three kids in college. A different office tower. A different firm in a different state. The Ann Taylor suits have been replaced with the forgiving lines of Eileen Fisher. Counseling a young physician owned start up in the healthcare space via Zoom. His passion is palatable. He could really help someone. This is exciting. Not to be immodest but my advice is still substantively spot on. But I’m more joyful, confident and at ease.
Becoming an Entrepreneurial Attorney
There are lots of trustworthy and talented attorneys in this country. But what does it mean to be an entrepreneurial attorney? In my mind, it means an attorney that “gets it.” That gets risk. And shares risk. That understands business. That understands her value as an attorney and business counselor. Who lets her client know what she would do but does not substitute her judgement calls or risk tolerance for theirs. Nimble. Responsive. Efficient. She’s a trusted advisor because she understands what it means to have a “why”–to have hope—to have the stamina it takes to keep going. To understand that sometimes the most powerful position to be in is when you have nothing to lose. To understand what it feels like to place all your chips on red and spin the roulette wheel.
Objectively, I’m a good attorney. And sometimes these days I can be caught arrogantly saying to a colleague that I don’t have much to prove. But it’s not because I’m an equity partner or have a good book of business. My magic stems from my story and my track record. The grit and perseverance. Understanding what it means to be “all in.”
Everyone has a story—their unique challenges. My story is the hustle. Not the hustle of a private equity Chad or Brad in khaki pants, a button down and zip up vest. (But they have been known to come to me for legal advice on several occasions.) Not the hustle of a country club golfer who can network with the best of them. (I can do that too.) Or the managing partner who needs to sit at the head of the table or take the corner office. (I don’t have time or interest in those things.)
My story is that of a mom who started law school with a nine-month-old baby and no car. Who didn’t have the chance to participate in study groups or prepare outlines but who studied from midnight to 2 am each night with a pot of coffee to graduate at the very top of her class. The story of a single mom who once had to figure out how to feed three kids dinner with $5 in her bank account and no food in the fridge—and then go to work the next morning in a suit, pretend everything was fine and listen to her fellow attorneys discuss their European vacations. (It’s a lonely, tired feeling.) The story of a mom who raised those three kids on her own to be kind, loving, generous people in this world—who are encouraged to pursue excellence and share their gifts with the world.
There is a beautiful poem that resonates with me. It’s called “Invitation” by Oriah Mountain Dreamer. The most powerful line states: “I want to know if you can get up after the night of grief and despair, weary and bruised to the bone and do what needs to be done to feed the children.”
The poem’s language beautifully reflects the concepts of strength, courage, stamina, commitment and responsibility. My life experiences have underscored the importance of these traits. I admire and appreciate them. And that same spirit is found within my entrepreneurial clients.
Accordingly, I have an overwhelming feeling of privilege and honor when I am able to represent mission driven entrepreneurs who share these values—even when they are demonstrated in a very different way than I have demonstrated them. I’m a good entrepreneurial attorney because “I get it.” And I’m so grateful!