So You (Don't) Want To Be a Lawyer?

Two years ago, in March 2020, I decided that I wanted to go to law school. Well, kind of.

In March 2020 I was deciding between a law degree and an art history program at the Sotheby’s Institute of Art in London. I studied art history during my undergraduate degree and absolutely fell in love with it. It was more than a passion; art history shaped my perspective on the world around me.

But then March 2020 came around. The world was quickly changing and I was faced with a decision: Do I go to Sotheby’s or do I pursue a law. In the end, I chose law. But I can’t help but wonder why I chose law. Honestly, I’ve never felt drawn to law. In the end, I watched a season of Suits, packed my bags, and moved to another country to pursue this degree.

Prior to attending law school, I had this faint idea of what law school would look like. I had this faint idea of what law school would feel like. But I never actually envisioned myself in law school. You can only imagine the rude awakening I subsequently faced during my first week of lectures.

“Fuck,” I thought to myself, “Did I make the wrong choice?”

As I approach my final couple of months in law school, I still ask myself why I stayed. Why I chose to ‘stick it out’. I mean, I dedicate more than 70-hours a week to studying only to end up at the same place that I started: Fuck, did I make the wrong choice? But as I get closer to the finish line, I realise that I didn’t necessarily come to law school for myself. I came to law school to prove myself, and my intelligence, to others.

The desire to ‘prove myself’ seems like a particularly female phenomenon. This is ironic because most of my colleagues in law school are, in fact, female. I do not intend to suggest that my female colleagues are in law school for the same reason that I am, though it’s worth noting what this gender discrepancy signifies. Why did I have to go to law school to prove myself when I was already proving myself personally and professionally before attending law school?

While studying art history, I found myself enthralled in the material and the multi-disciplinary aspect of the research. I loved art; I always have. But as a woman studying art history, I was often asked what I wanted to do with this degree. I was asked if I wanted to be an artist. I was asked if I wanted to be a schoolteacher. In one social setting after graduating from my undergrad, a middle-aged woman in her late 60s introduced herself and we engaged in small talk for a few minutes. After she learned that I had just completed my BA Art History, she proceeded to tell me how useless this degree was. She then asked me if I was planning to become a housewife. As you can imagine, she was a little disappointed to learn, at the time, that I was in fact 22 and single thus any chance to become a housewife in the near future was, unfortunately, well beyond my reach. *sigh*

I guess my art history degree didn’t seem like a worthy achievement in her eyes. To be honest, I couldn't care less about what this woman thought of me. Frankly I don't even remember her name. But I use this example to illustrate just how deep misogyny runs into our society's conscience. This was a woman talking down the worth and intelligence of another woman. Why? Because our society has taught her that this is appropriate behaviour. Our society has conditioned us (all) to believe that women's accomplishments are somehow worth-less than men's accomplishments. This enables a vicious cycle where women work twice as hard for half of the praise, recognition, and compensation that men receive.

Alas, I can only imagine what kind of questions I would have gotten if I were a man studying art history. My feminist-geared mind suggests that conversations around professional life would have sounded very different.

Four years later, I find myself in a similar position. But this time I receive questions pertaining to my ‘future’ legal career.

“What area of law do you want to practice?” I smile and reply that I don’t plan to practice law right away—this one often lands better than leading with honesty and diving into my current desire to run far, far away from law.

“Wow! Good for you!” I get this one a lot.

“It’s such a useful degree.” I get this one a lot too. In fact, it is a useful degree. But it’s really only a useful degree if you want to become a lawyer. I mean, how useful is an MD if you don’t plan on becoming a doctor?

I acknowledge that this internal debate screams ‘privilege’ on far too many levels. I recognise that it is an utter privilege to be able to attend law school, as an international student, despite having no intention to practice law. But I also know that law is not the answer for me—at least not right now. If anything, I feel more disenchanted by the legal system after reading law.

It's ironic to think that prior to attending law school, I was pressed to talk up the value of my BA Art History whereas now I find myself talking down the value of my (future) LLB. In both conversations I feel the need to justify myself, to prove myself, and my professional goals to others. But I’ve only just recognised this as a product of internalised misogyny. As a woman, I feel the need to justify myself in ways that my male peers do not. It’s a double-edged sword because in feeling the need to prove myself, I also feel self-conscious about this need to prove myself.

Our society ridicules women for just about everything we do. When we’re confident, we’re considered arrogant. When we’re assertive, we’re considered brash. When we’re hard-workers, we’re considered ‘try-hards’. When we care about something, we care too much. When we’re smart, we need a degree or an external body to corroborate our intelligence. Women are continuously surrounded by discourses of criticism.

I urge you to recognise your voice in situations when speaking about women. Notice the words you use to describe her accomplishments or shortcomings. Take a close look at the way you describe her behaviour or actions. Acknowledge whether you would use the same words to describe a man in a similar situation. There’s certainly a lot of work to be done to dispel our internalised misogynies, but this self-reflection may lead you in the right direction.

So, will this degree finally silence that voice in my head? It’s unlikely. I hope that the little voice in your head doesn’t lead you down this path unless you want to be a lawyer. But if you don’t want to be a lawyer, law school is not the answer. Take it from me.