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As a subscriber you can listen to articles at work, in the car, or while you work out. Subscribe NowWhen I transitioned from law student to attorney, I was faced with the daunting realization that law school did not fully prepare for the actual practice of law.
I immediately categorized this feeling as “imposter syndrome.” I thought I felt unprepared not because I was unprepared, but because my perception was rooted in insecurity. That somehow my successes in law school and as a law clerk were a stroke of luck.
Seven months into practicing, I still often feel uncertain about my abilities. I pop into the offices of the attorneys I work with to ask questions, worried that my questions will expose me as a fraud because I perceived them to be trivial.
Each time, I chalked it up to imposter syndrome and told myself I simply needed to build my confidence.
But then, one night while practicing a new song on the guitar, I had an epiphany. This wasn’t imposter syndrome at all. The problem wasn’t that I doubted myself, the problem was that I simply don’t know things yet. And that’s okay.
The reality is, I just don’t have the answers for everything, because most of what I am doing is all new to me. Law school builds a foundation. It teaches you to think like a lawyer, but it doesn’t necessarily teach how to be a lawyer. The real learning comes from doing the work.
During my third year of law school, I decided to start taking electric guitar lessons as a way to reengage with my love of music.
As a young child I took piano lessons, and much of my middle school and high school years were devoted to the viola. It felt natural to learn a new instrument as a way to decompress from law school, work and the looming bar exam.
The first couple months of learning the guitar were frustrating. Forming chords felt awkward, and my brain practically short circuited every time I tried to switch chords and strum at the same time.
It was uncomfortable, and at times discouraging. But, with practice, persistence and patience, what once felt foreign became second nature. The awkwardness faded. I could transition smoothly between chords without breaking the rhythm. I didn’t wake up one day with the ability to play guitar. I became able to play guitar by doing the work.
The same is true for the practice of law. Taking the attorney’s oath doesn’t miraculously provide you with all the knowledge and skills you’ll need for a successful career. Like learning the guitar, or anything new, it comes with practice, determination and a willingness to be imperfect in the beginning.
The discomfort I’ve felt since starting my practice isn’t really about self-doubt. It’s the natural anxiety of not having all the answers because I’m doing it for the first time. Expecting my first demand letter, complaint, or response to a motion to dismiss to be flawless would be unrealistic. Edits and redlines from partners are not signs of failure, they’re signs of growth. They’re the prerequisite to getting good.
So, to my fellow new lawyers: don’t fear the learning curve. Embrace it. Ask the questions. Write the drafts. Take the feedback. Play the wrong chords. Because that’s how, in time, you’ll learn to play the music.•
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Molly K. McMath is an associate attorney at CohenMalad.
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