Like quickly ripping off a BandAid, let’s get the uncomfortable topics out of the way. To truly understand my experience in law and why litigation work slowly devoured my soul, patience, and mostly sunny disposition, it’s helpful to keep in mind a subtle yet insidiously important distinction. I am a female attorney. I know, I know. “But Kristina, it’s 2022, that’s not a big deal anymore.” And I agree with you; but if I said that it didn’t play a large role in my distain for litigation and eventual burnout, I would be lying to you.
The first firm I ever worked at felt like a buzzing hive in a high-rise building overlooking the Puget Sound in downtown Seattle, Washington. 700 attorneys cramped in cubicles, hoping to upgrade to a senior associate window-office with a pocket full of winning cases and a bit of luck.
However, at least 90% of promotions seemed to go to male attorneys, and the few women filling these roles arguably surpassed their colleagues on every resume bullet point. During case status meetings, strategies offered by men were at the very least entertained by senior associates and partners, while others received the corporate-sanctioned pat on the head. No one had a ‘good ol’ boys club’ sign hanging over their office door, but they might as well have. I honesty figured that, in the year 2015, microaggressions and a longer partnership track was all I had to pay for being a woman. Then I moved to Alaska. And if the cold wasn’t going to kill me, my naivety most certainly would.
Sitting in my new bay-window office in Anchorage, Alaska, I just knew that I would finally be taken seriously! I was on a direct partner track, landing a senior associate job with my background in corporate litigation and internal investigations. Woo hoo for me right?….Nope. The first phone call I receive from opposing counsel is summarized as follows:
Ms. Montanez, I hear you’re helping Mr. so-and-so on the case. Nice to see another paralegal joining his firm. Are you married? Whenever you come to drop off the discovery responses for your boss, do stop in and chat, I’d love to give you some pointers and I’m sure my secretary can show you around town if you girls are free for lunch.
If you read that in a “creepy villain twiddling his mustache” voice, you’re not far off. And sadly, he was not an exception to how opposing counsel, colleagues, clients, or even paralegals from other firms approached me. Thinly veiled insults like the one above were the least of my worries. I would endure screaming profanities over the phone from male clients. I was consistently berated with words that would make a pirate blush from supervising male partners. Even secretaries and staff from other firms would drop their polite tone once learning that I was, in fact, not another paralegal. This treatment became so conspicuous that a fellow male associate at my firm, of the same age and experience level, made a point to track how the same colleagues and clients treated him. We even tried writing each other’s letters and briefs to rule out any difference in style or quality. Not surprisingly, it made no difference at all. Working sun up to sun down (or in the case of Alaska, from early dark to late dark) was taxing enough without this added bonus-the inability to prove my worth.
Which leads us to a glaring similarity between the traditional legal arena and software engineering jobs—both are male dominated fields. After coming to the conclusion that a computer science degree would best suit me for transitioning into IP, my apprehension towards the tech world started with this very thought, “Will my peers take me seriously? Or at least treat me like I belong?” Understandably, I entered OSU’s program with this mindset, bracing myself for the same antagonistic work atmosphere. And so far the majority of students that I have worked with are male. The majority of professors I’ve had are male. And of course, the majority of connections I have in the tech world are also male. You would think my experiences at OSU would follow suit.
Expecting to read about instances of similar treatment while writing code in male-dominated coding groups? On the contrary! What I’ve actually experienced thus far is the opposite of what I prepared for. Every person I’ve met or worked with in this program, regardless of who they are, has been refreshingly kind, respectful, cooperative, and eager to help. Working for so many years in a world where such behavior would be considered suspect or simply fake. And yes, I am fully aware that my anecdotal evidence only covers interactions within an educational sphere. But if this is an ample survey of the quality of people entering this workforce, then my confidence in my new career path has been strengthened. And coming from a woman attorney, I do not take it for granted.
