Consumed

You may wonder why my posts have been so infrequent lately. I have been settled into my place for almost two months. I thought by now that I would have found time to write at least every other day. But life has a strange habit of getting in the way of our best set plans.

Before my move, I worked all day then went straight home. I talked to My Boyfriend the Lawyer on the phone before eating dinner and relaxing in front of a television for the remainder of the evening. As one of the few people who returned to my home town after college, I was definitely not a social butterfly. This gave me a ton of time to write.

Now, however, while work still takes up the standard 40 hours of my week, life itself is suddenly requiring more of my time. Nowadays, meeting at a pub for an after work beer or going to a friend's house for dinner is becoming the norm. And forget about a moment of true peace. My Boyfriend the Lawyer also moved to Memphis, and I quickly learned that an apartment of two is much busier than an apartment of one. Between work and get-togethers - and don't forget quality time with the love of my life - I am lucky I found this moment to share tonight.

But I am learning a necessary and refreshing lesson from this whirlwind: life outside of and apart from work is very important. Over the past two and a half years I have become consumed with paralegalism, ideas of regulation, questions about UPL lines and musings about the economic ramifications of an expanding paralegal profession in the greater legal world. I identify whole-heartedly as a paralegal. I am proud to be a contributing force of justice in this world, in some small way. I have always been the kind of person who needed to connect on a personal level with her job.

But this is the first time in my adult career life when I have been forced to take off the legal mask sometimes. And as hard as it is, as much as I love talking paralegalese, I have to admit that it has felt amazing to be just Mel outside of the office. These days, at least during this adjustment period, both in work and personal life, I am consumed with something other than paralegalism... but stay tuned. I am not done being Para-Mel just yet.

Taking Company Brand to a Whole New Level

I have been asked to do a lot for the many jobs I have had in my life. I have worked overtime, calmed angry customers, dealt with spilt food, come home late, arrived early, driven all over the county, and patiently accepted rude comments. I have done these things as a waitress, customer service rep, cashier and most recently as a paralegal. Going the distance is a part of who I am. There is little that I will not do for a boss or company I respect in the course of a job I enjoy.

But I will not get a tattoo of the company logo on any part of my body.

I came across a story tonight of a paralegal who has done just that. States the story at StarTribute.com, "Katie Edmeier, a paralegal for Anytime Fitness, got the health club chain's purple running-man logo tattooed on her upper left arm." Apparently Ms. Edmeier is just one of over 200 employees of the fitness chain who really take company loyalty to heart. The fact that so many staffers are willing to physically take on the brand speaks volumes about the company's relationship with its employees.

However, my personal commitment issues with permanent ink aside, this could spell trouble for any staffers whose relationship with the company may sour in the distant future. It seems to me that having a competing company's logo etched into one's skin might be a lot like having "Brad" tattooed down your arm when you're dating a "Derek." I cannot imagine it going over too well with either the new employer or the new boyfriend.

Thank goodness for me, Ms. Scared-of-Needles, I think my firm will accept good ol' fashioned hard work in place of permanent ink as proof of my love for the job.

Snub in the Elevator

Every elevator ride is different and so is every elevator personality. I believe I've met them all at this point. Something about confined spaces brings out the best and worst in people. 

My own elevator personality is cautiously friendly. If someone speaks to me, I will speak back. I keep an open smile on my face in the effort to be friendly and receptive. I often look down, and when uncomfortable, I either play on my phone or clasp my hands in front of me.

Sometimes a group of people who know each other will step on, and I will feel outnumbered and shy. Other times we will speak awkwardly about the weather. Often I will meet a new face, and we will hit it off on the way to the first floor over shoes or purses or some other thing we have in common.


And sometimes, even in this adult world, in a city, in a big building full of professionals, in an apartment complex inhabited by young  adults, I step onto an elevator that immediately takes me back to high school, a time when I was less assured of myself, insecure, and too eager to fit in. They are the elevator equivalent of the cool kids at school, and they tend not to talk to me, the runt. They have perfect city-professional clothes and sleek hair. They carry portfolios or drag suitcases full of important papers behind them. They avoid looking me in the eyes, and they exude an air of business and importance. They wear expensive shoes. For an eternity of fifteen seconds, I forget my confidence and my worldview and shrink a little on the inside.

Then the doors open and I step into a sun-filled lobby. All of the tension spills into the open air, dissipating. I am myself again in an instant. I am good as gold. I am ready for the next ride up. 

One for You, One for Me

There I stood at the copier, a stack of manila folders twelve feet tall, towering like some formidable beast before me. A beast from whom I had already received countless battle wounds - a paper cut here, a folder cut there. And the battle this day could only be won by making copies of each small stack in each folder... in triplicate.

Now, I know that at some firms, paralegals get to delegate some tasks to secretaries. Not so at my office. So I have been operating under the assumption that I make all of my own copies unless I have a copy job big enough to warrant sending it out. I don't mind making copies. In fact, at my former office, no one was above copying, not even the Boss himself. (You can only delegate so much with two people in the office.)

So as I was saying, there I stood before the copier, slowly opening a folder of originals, removing the staples, placing them on the machine, stapling the originals back together, stapling the copies together, and placing them in separate stacks, etc, etc. One of the secretaries at my firm walked up and said plainly, "Why are you making copies?" I tried to explain that I had a project which required triplicates, but she stopped me there. "You need to call Johnny* (name changed) and send that job out. It's much better for the firm to pay someone else for the copies than to pay you to stand here and make them."

Just like that, my eyes were opened.

For the past several weeks I have had personal qualms about getting other people to do my work. I don't like sending a runner out because I am perfectly capable of walking to the courthouse. I don't like ordering supplies from our receptionist because I am perfectly capable of going to Wal-Mart and purchasing white out. Since I come from a firm where I was responsible for just about everything, I am having a hard time letting go of some duties I formerly held. Especially if the job sounds particularly tedious, such as walking to the circuit court to make copies of fifty pleadings. I don't want to ask someone else to do that. I hate the idea of asking someone to do something that sounds less than enjoyable to me. And yet, here in the world of big(ger) law, we have more hands available. And some of those hands are waiting for an assignment that involves making copies or walking a half mile down the street to file a subpoena, just as I am waiting for an assignment that involves indexing a deposition or finding a pleading for my attorney to review.

How did yesterday's story end? I called Johnny, he took my stack away, and he brought back copies before the end of the day. I always knew attorneys had to know how to properly delegate tasks, but I'm starting to realize that it's a good skill for all of us to have.

Scottish Paralegals Take a Step Forward

Scottish solicitors are realizing the need for their paralegals, and the paralegals themselves are taking a giant step forward. In this article at Scotsman.com, author Christopher Mackie explains that the job forecast is finally looking sunny for Scottish paralegals.

"'The initial redundancies were paralegals,' says Alison Butters, the joint president of the Scottish Paralegal Association. 'Then the solicitors realised they were struggling without them.'" According to the article, many legal staff were the first to take a hit when the economy turns south. Many solicitors thought they could do paralegal work, but were surprised to find out that they had forgotten how to perform small tasks, like filling out forms correctly. 

Meanwhile, along with the re-opening of the job market, Scottish paralegals are celebrating another milestone. "In a little under four months, the UK's first registration scheme for paralegals will be introduced to the Scottish legal profession."

This means that qualified paralegals will be able to apply for registration as paralegals. The registration program will set a minimum standard for ethics and training for those who desire the title "registered paralegal." 

The initiative is a validation of sorts for professional paralegals in Scotland, a validation that the SPA has been working toward since its establishment in1993.

Ms. Butters describes Scottish paralegals in the '90s as caught "somewhere between a secretary and a solicitor and in a kind of no-man's land." Who here hasn't spent time in that land? 

Aside from bringing better definition and recognition to the paralegal role, the registration program will have the added benefit of weeding out those individuals who "shouldn't really be described as paralegals," according to Ms. Butters. 

Even recently, before the implementation of the registration program, paralegal salaries have risen in Scotland. While Ms. Butters insists that this is not the specific aim of the program, I would guess the paralegals are not complaining. My guess is that the SPA has helped provide Scottish paralegals with a cohesive professional identity during its several years of existence, and that it is the group identity that makes them more valuable to the legal world. A professional identity helps enforce standards within the group, and higher standards will inevitably lead to higher monetary value. 

Our Scottish friends have the right idea. High standards and a unified identity promote the inherent value of any profession. All over the world, the similar paralegal news stories are popping up - from registration to certification, even to licensure of paralegals. The rising value of nonattorney legal professionals is hopefully driving down costs and allowing easier access to justice in countries that have implemented these programs. The comparison and contrast of the United States with all of these other countries makes me very interested to see where our justice system will be in relation to all the rest twenty years from now. I know one thing: I want to be right in the middle of it when I find out.

Breakthrough

Today I had a revelation. As I was sorting my growing task list, and as my attorneys brought me various and sundry assignments, I realized that I was digging my feet in. Because of the nature of a new job, I have been easy, wide-eyed, passive, and free-moving at the office. I have been soaking up firm culture but shying away from making my own mark.Taking it all in and working hard, but playing catch-up.

Until today. Suddenly, as my newly assigned attorney was explaining to me how he wants me to present my research on possible expert witnesses, I felt as if my feet had stopped sliding, as if some small part of me had taken root. I can't say that I feel home yet, or that I ever will. But the new firm and its inhabitants are starting to grow on me. From the quirky partner who planted beautiful spring flowers all over our balcony and is making an associate water them, to the friendly runner who says she doesn't mind that I sent her to the courthouse to make copies of 60+ pleadings, to the smokers who parade through my office several times a day to get to the balcony (the door is in my office). If I can't be working for the Boss, then I might as well be working here. And though it may not seem like it, that is quite the compliment.

Have Yourself a Very Happy Administrative Professionals Day

One year ago tomorrow, I walked into the office to find a box of a half dozen glazed Krispy Kreme doughnuts on my desk. I was delighted. I just knew they were left there for me in honor of Administrative Professionals Day. That the Boss even remembered something like that made my day. The next day, when I arrived at the office, I found a vase of orange roses, a hand-written note, a DVD, and a lil' bonus to top it all off. That's when I realized the Boss had gotten his days mixed up and the doughnuts had just been one of his normal niceties.

This year, three weeks into my new job at the Memphis firm, I know I will go under appreciated. I accept it. No one knows me well enough to see me as an asset yet. But nevertheless, I do get a free lunch and a paid half day off tomorrow. It isn't flowers and a card, but I suppose it'll do.

Now, onto the business of the day. I'm in my third week at the new firm, and like I said, I haven't yet made myself indispensable. I am trying, but I am also learning that there must be a balance regarding office politics.

Happy Administrative Professionals Day!