Volume 20, Number 1
Jan/Feb 2003
From the Editor
Our Genders, Ourselves
By jennifer j. rose
Every year during the American Bar Association's Annual
Meeting, the Commission on Women in the Profession hosts the
Margaret Brent Awards luncheon, honoring the most exclusive
sorority of women lawyers and judges. These women are the
trailblazers, pioneers, and revolutionaries of the professions,
and they justly deserve every bit of credit for making lives and
the law better. But there are just as many women out there,
practicing law in the trenches, serving humankind creditably, who
will never be among the 1,200 or so attending the Margaret Brent
Awards luncheon, who may never have even heard of Margaret Brent,
and who view their roles as practicing lawyers no differently
than their brethren at the bar.
I'm going to be honest. While I was growing up in Southern
California, the first woman lawyer I knew was Mrs. B., a friend's
mother, who went to law school in the late 1960s in the hope that
she could support herself after a divorce. She had no grand
ambitions other than putting a little more food on the table than
a teacher's salary, the traditional woman's safety net back then,
would provide. If I had an early role model, it was Mrs. B. Her
political agenda was fully as broad as Donna Reed's.
I entered law school in 1973-the year of the great boom in
women's admissions to law school. There were not many women in my
law school class, and we weren't really sure how we were supposed
to act. Were we supposed to be champions of the nascent field of
women's rights, were we supposed to head toward the traditional
areas of "women's work" like tax and family law, or were we free
to do anything we wanted? The most successful woman in my class
did the decidedly uncool act of baking cookies the night before
finals to relax and unwind. We laughed at her Harriet Nelson
interlude, but she was the first to make partner in an AV-rated
law firm.
We were driven by the idea that we were supposed to do something
important, or at least socially meaningful, with our legal
educations. Whether we were supposed to follow the dialectic of
Shulamith Firestone or Phyllis Schlafly, many of us weren't
exactly sure. There were those who knew right away which route to
take, there were those who wandered down undefined paths, and
there were those for whom the baby boom's prosperity meant little
more than the upper-class version of a teaching certificate-a
profession, of course, and not a bad way to earn a decent
living.
My generation of women lawyers wasn't even sure what we were
supposed to wear. For the men, "dressing like a lawyer" was easy.
Did we really have to wear one of those "dress for success" suits
with the little floppy ties, could we wear pants, or could we
dare to wear a red dress and high heels to court?
"The law is a jealous mistress" was drummed into our heads, even
if we were looking for lives at a time when being a woman lawyer
and having a life were not supposed to mix. Women riding on the
highest plains of success were applauded for giving their lives
entirely over to the practice of law. The mark of a truly
dedicated woman lawyer was to spend all but the final hour of
childbirth cross-examining a feral witness. Many yielded to those
demands, some tried to have it all, and some questioned,
demanded, and carved out private lives.
Women lawyers-and men-may have more freedom today to do as they
please than ever before. But do they exercise that freedom?
Reduced and flexible schedules, part-time work, and family and
extended leave all sound great on paper, but they can impede
professional progress for many who labor in large firms. The
ability to carve out one's own agenda may explain why many women
leave the law factory for solo and small firm practice-or leave
the practice entirely. A lawyer who quits her practice to be a
full-time stay-at-home mother now has the freedom to do so,
without apology to anyone. It's a matter of choice. And in many
settings, even men who leave the office early to carve Halloween
pumpkins with their children are looked upon as caring, sensitive
individuals.
The incursion of women into the legal profession did more than
simply change the playing field. It changed the foci of
practicing law. Sexual harassment has existed throughout the
ages, but changes in the law made it actionable. The differences
between men and women spelled new avenues of and approaches to
practice, from setting up women in business, advocating for
breast cancer patients, and rainmaking and communication
styles.
The women who make up the ABA Commission on Women and those
who've been honored with the Margaret Brent Award are the dragon
slayers, heroines, and power players of the profession. These
women are the risk takers and adventurers. They're not the
ordinary lot of lawyers, but what they've done for the ordinary
rank-and-file lawyer, even the lawyer laboring on the ground
floor whose glass ceiling is simply opaque, is immeasurable.
They've given Jane and Joe Lawyer choices that we didn't have
before.
This issue of GPSolo isn't just a women's issue. It's as much for
those lawyers who have female clients; female partners,
associates, and staff; and even female relatives. This issue has
brought together, through the fine efforts of issue editor John
Macy, the fruits and viewpoints of a broad range of the
profession's best and brightest.



