We are switching things up a bit today with the Women Leading in Law blog series and featuring Professor Jennifer Quaid, a lawyer who chose a rewarding career in academia (after some time with the Department of Justice and in private practice). For any lawyer or law student curious about a similar career, this is the post for you. While the whole post is filled with lots of great advice, what stood out for me was Prof. Quaid's observations about making mistakes in your legal career. I hope you find it useful too:
1. Tell me a little about your practice or business.
I have the best job in the world! I am an Associate Professor and soon to be Vice-Dean Research (as of July 1, 2020) at the Civil Law Section of the Faculty of Law at the University of Ottawa.
I teach an unusual combination of courses, but one that is tailor-made for me and the areas of law that interest me: general criminal law, corporate law and competition law. Some day, I would like to teach a seminar on selected topics in business accountability – I am working on my Dean!
Aside from my teaching load, which is determined in large part by Faculty needs, I have the incredible privilege to pursue research in whatever subjects interest me. This freedom allows me to explore questions in depth but also affords me the opportunity to respond in real time to new issues as they emerge: some of you may know that I talk to journalists fairly frequently. This is the new reality of the modern academic: being able to provide insights in multiple forms to multiple audiences on very different timelines. It is very challenging but you can’t do one without the other – we need deep research on fundamental questions but we also need to keep our eyes on what is happening on the ground. This balancing act keeps me on my toes but is one of the aspects of my position that I appreciate the most. It is intensely satisfying to be able to contribute to public discourse and provide ideas for solutions to the problems that we face as a society.
My core area of expertise is what most people call “corporate criminal liability” but the work I do straddles a number of overlapping areas that are linked by a common theme: when and how can law be used to stimulate good governance and ethical business practices, particularly in the prevention of serious harm flowing from the materialization of foreseeable operational risks. These risks tend to fall into two distinct categories: economic (like corruption, fraud and cartel activity) and safety/environmental (criminal negligence, regulatory). I study both types, which means I have written about the Lac-Mégantic derailment and about the SNC-Lavalin case. Many of my research projects are centred on developing effective sanctions and sentencing practice. My current focus is on anti-corruption measures and how to rescue the fledgling remediation agreement regime (Part XXII.1 CrC) which got off to such a rough start in 2018. I have just received funding for a 4-year empirical study that will compare non-trial resolutions in Canada, France and Switzerland. I am very fortunate to have been able to form a network of 4 colleagues (2 French, 2 Swiss – all women!) associated with 3 research institutes to support the project. Their collaboration is crucial since a big part of the study will be talking to those involved in anti-corruption enforcement on the ground in each country: investigators, police, prosecutors, judges and defense counsel. Empirical studies like these are still rare and depend on developing and maintaining good relationships with stakeholders. As someone who has practised in government and the private sector before joining the academy and who continues to engage with the profession, this plays to my strengths. I am very much looking forward to getting started! Outside my formal research projects, I also volunteer my time to the Legal Committee of Transparency International Canada, an NGO which advocates for robust anti-corruption measures in Canada and works to greater public awareness of the costs of corruption worldwide. Being part of the Committee gives me the chance to work with a fantastic group of lawyers from different sectors who are committed to the mission of TI Canada.
The final part of a professor’s job is service and I will be doing a lot of that starting July 1st when I become Vice-Dean, Research. In that role, I will be responsible for supporting my colleagues and their research teams when they apply for grants and other institutional support like infrastructure; the search for funding and resources is a fixture of the research world. I will also responsible for promoting and highlighting the research being done by our professors, graduate students and the many research centres and laboratories associated with the Faculty. At this level I expect to collaborate a lot with my counterpart in Common Law, Vice-Dean Research, Penelope Simons. She is an expert on business and human rights and she and I have plans to create a joint research hub focused on business accountability, ethical commercial practices and sustainable governance in order to leverage the incredible expertise we have at uOttawa Law in the fields related to this topical and important subject.
More specifically on the Civil Law side, we spent the last year developing a strategic plan for the next 3-5 years in six key areas, including research. As incoming Vice-Dean, I have the honour of launching the first priority projects for the research sector: one is a new micro-program aimed at undergraduate students interested in research. The idea is to introduce students to the different kinds of research that can be done in law (interdisciplinary, empirical, quantitative, socio-legal, etc) as well as in other fields that are useful in studying legal issues. We also want them to have a chance to try their hand at an often under-studied aspect of the research process: knowledge mobilization; in other words, sharing what they discover in ways that people can understand and make use of it.
I have two other major priorities for my term as Vice-Dean. The first is to continue the work of predecessors in working toward reconciliation with the First Peoples of Canada. This is a multi-pronged process that will take many years, but in my capacity as Vice-Dean Research, I would like to develop stronger relationships with First Nations researchers and communities, particularly those with which we already have active connections and those on whose unceded territory our Faculty is located. We already have many researchers who are working with First Nations partners and last year we were delighted to welcome on faculty Professor Eva Ottawa, an expert on aboriginal legal orders and a member of the atikamekw community. I would like to build on that base to weave First Nations perspectives into our thinking more broadly. I believe there is tremendous potential for change and new ideas if we are prepared to listen and learn about First Nations legal traditions and history. The other area of priority for me is to see a much greater embrace of multiple platforms to share our research and connect with people interested in knowing about the issues we are studying and what ideas we have to propose as solutions. This means expanding beyond speakers addressing audiences in conventional academic settings and changing things up both digitally (blogs, podcasts, webcasts and live chats) and in person. One idea we are keen to launch as soon as social distancing rules allow is the “university of the streets” model, where researchers go out into the community and chat with people in more informal settings, like cafés, galleries, community centres and other public spaces.
2. Why did you go to law school?
When I first went to law school, I wanted to be a litigator, ideally in a big firm where I would be this alpha female partner breaking down all the sexist barriers that had plagued my mother’s generation. I also wanted to fight the good fight – the classic widow and orphan view of the lawyer as social justice crusader. But there were no lawyers in my family and I had no idea what the practice of law was really like. I found that out progressively and where I am today reflects my gradual realization of that my 20-year old’s ambition was not true to who I was as a person and as a lawyer nor was it aligned with my goals.
Before studying law, I completed an undergrad degree in Economics at the University of Ottawa. But while I enjoyed taking a lot of different classes from art history to lettres françaises to math, this was always just a stepping-stone in my mind. Moreover, as I came to the University of Ottawa straight out of Secondary V in Quebec (I skipped CEGEP), I was still very young, only 20 when I graduated.
As a native-born Montrealer with strong family ties to Europe, I grew up with an appreciation for the world beyond Canada’s borders and a sensitivity to the way language and culture shapes one’s perspective. Given this, I absolutely wanted to study both civil and common law and in both languages. At the time I applied to law school, there were only two schools that offered the National Program: McGill and the University of Ottawa.
The National Program at Ottawa was designed as a 3+1 degree: 3 years in one program and 1 year in the “other” program. It was the Droit civil (Civil Law) Section that admitted me so that is where I started in September 1990. Many people do not realize that while our sister Faculty, the Common Law Section is bilingual and has both a French and English language program, Droit civil is taught exclusively in French. Since the University of Ottawa is a bilingual university, students may opt to write the papers and exams in either English or French, but I never availed myself of that option. I had already taken about half of my undergraduate classes in French and I decided that I wanted to prove I was able to do everything in French. Moreover, I found it much easier to take notes and read the source materials in French since the lectures and exam questions were in French too. This was one of the best decisions I ever made since it laid the foundation for a career in which I would move seamlessly between languages, cultures and legal systems.
After three years immersed in French and in droit civil I spent a fascinating year learning the common law in English. At the time, the National Program was small (we were about 12) and so we were sprinkled among the first-year classes. We had a lot of fun though our classmates found that we asked strange and unexpected questions. In first-year contracts, taught by the wonderful Don McRae, we were mystified as why the standard approach was to teach remedies first. “But what’s the definition of a contract?” we kept asking, “we need to know that first!”. Don just smiled. The experience of engaging in comparative law directly like that was invaluable. It opened my eyes to the huge potential in looking at other approaches and in trying to understand where others are coming from. At the end of the day, all legal systems are designed to produce solutions to common human problems. Against that backdrop, cross-pollination of legal principles can provide helpful insights when looking at novel issues.
I went to law school at the height of the national unity debates (remember the Meech Lake Accord? That fell apart as I started law school and then there was the Charlottetown Accord – I remember Bob Rae giving a passionate speech in favour at the Faculty, but to no avail). I spent many hours arguing and debating constitutional law and federalism with my civil law classmates, many of whom were indépendantistes, and always in French. I suppose that is where I perfected my legal French, though at the time I still had a slight European accent because I spent my summers working in Switzerland (my mum is from there). But there was always a point in the debate where my classmates would say “Oh, les anglophones …” and then I would say, “I am an anglo, you know.” And then they would say: “Oh, Jen, we don’t mean you. You’re not like them.” I took that as a compliment.
We all wanted to be constitutional law experts in those days and find that dream job doing Charter analysis for just causes (most of us never managed it).
3. How did you get to where you are today? Design? Chance? Both?
The short answer is both. The long answer could form the basis of a novel; here is the abridged version.
My career is best described as a zig-zag across different practice areas, different employers and different parts of the world that ultimately brought me back to where it all started – Fauteux Hall. If you had told me in 1994 when I graduated from common law that I would be back 22 years later, I would have shuddered, and not in a good way.
After I finished Droit civil, I summered at a big Montreal firm. I then returned the summer after to start my articling. I did one rotation in litigation but as I had a clerkship lined up with Frank Iacobucci at the Supreme Court of Canada, I did not remain at the firm for the duration of my articles and never returned. While at the Court I applied for scholarships to go to grad school and through a stroke of luck managed to secure two, but not for the same year. I went first to Cambridge in 1995-96 where I did an LLM. This was an amazing experience that I treated as my reward for working hard at law school. It was at Cambridge, in my Philosophy of Criminal Law seminar, that I first became seriously interested in corporate criminal liability, so much so I elected to write a thesis about it. I then went to Columbia Law School where I was an Associate-in-Law (a 2 year teaching fellowship) while pursuing a doctoral degree in comparative corporate criminal liability. It was as an Associate that I had my first experience teaching and I was surprised at how much I enjoyed it (it was beginner’s luck I would find out in later years). I finished my time at Columbia in 1998 and received an LLM for my first doctoral paper. Though I had applied for a few academic jobs in Canada none worked out. I was secretly relieved because I wanted to practice and experience what I thought was “real life” outside the walls of the ivory tower.
My experience as a practising lawyer was not typical for my era, where the gold standard was securing a place at a good law firm and remaining there forever. Nowadays, moving around from job to job and doing different types of work is far more common and is viewed in a more positive light than it was then.
My first real law job was at the federal Department of Justice in a policy section called the Civil Code Section, which was tasked with the job of ensuring federal enactments reflected civil law principles in those areas where provincial law was incorporated into federal rules (such as bankruptcy). The position was not as stimulating as expected and so I looked around for other options and managed to get a secondment to the Competition Law Division. I had done some of my grad work in this area so was thrilled to go there. I was immediately assigned to a big merger review case. The Commissioner had decided to challenge the Superior Propane acquisition of ICG before the Competition Tribunal and they needed more lawyers to help. Eventually I secured a permanent position at the CLD. It was a busy time for deals in the late 1990s and I loved working on mergers. In those days the lawyers often accompanied the commerce officers investigating the cases (they don’t anymore) and I found the experience of meeting witnesses and stakeholders fascinating. The Propane case, heard in Calgary, was a long slog and it became quite adversarial in the courtroom but the Bureau team was fantastic and we all learned a ton. The Propane case was the first merger case to raise the issue of the efficiency defense squarely and I was teamed up with a commerce officer and an economist to work on developing a new interpretation of s. 96 of the Act. We even travelled to Washington to meet with senior FTC and DoJ officials – all of us were under 30 at the time and we marvelled at how seriously we were being taken.
After about 2 years with the CLD, I asked my boss if I could take a one-year unpaid leave to go work in private practice. There was precedent for this – other young government lawyers had done it and private practice lawyers often came to the Bureau on exchange. I wanted the experience because after working on several merger files, I felt like I was at a disadvantage because I did not understand how the deals were put together. I wanted to see the other side, as it were.
After weighing different options, I decided to join a prominent New York firm, Sullivan & Cromwell LLP in what they call their General Practice Group (in essence, corporate law). Though some had suggested I should join the Antitrust Group (a litigation group), I wanted the deal experience. Things did not go as planned, however. I arrived in January 2001 just as the tech boom started to crash; work dried up. Like many associates I had to take the assignments I was given. This is how I ended up doing securities work, something I never imagined doing. I am embarrassed to admit that back then I did not know the difference between the Securities Act of 1933 and the Securities Exchange Act of 1934.
In the slow summer of 2001, I attended an information session on the Asia-Pacific practice where I learned that S&C had an office in Melbourne. Not thinking, I ticked the box saying I might consider going there (I really wanted to go to the Paris office but there were no openings). Six weeks later, on September 10, 2001, I was offered a job there, which I accepted. That turned out to be prescient. I was glad to be able to leave my financial distinct apartment on the edge of Ground Zero at the end of 2001. But leaving for Melbourne also meant I was staying beyond my one-year leave from Justice and so I gave up my permanent job there.
My experience in Melbourne was exhilarating and terrifying in equal measure. I arrived in January 2002 to a tiny, thinly-staffed office (2 partners, 1 special counsel, 3 associates –a very top-heavy ratio). They were working at full-tilt because S&C represented about 80% of the Australian public companies listed in the US. Aside from a female lawyer working part-time out of the Sydney satellite office (only 2 lawyers plus her), I was the only female lawyer in the group. Very quickly, I discovered I was out of my depth; I lacked adequate knowledge of securities laws and accounting rules and I had to catch up very quickly under very stressful conditions. Things got really crazy in July 2002 when the US Congress passed the Sarbanes-Oxley Act of 2002. The new enactment, intended to rein in accounting and reporting practices that had enabled companies like Enron to mislead investors, turned the US securities world upside down. The legislation required the SEC to enact dozens of regulations on short notice. The SEC began to systematically subject any company doing a deal to detailed review of all disclosure documents, something that slowed all transactions and injected a huge amount of uncertainty into the process. This was especially the case for foreign issuers because Congress had not considered the implications of some rules for non-US companies. One example: SOX banned executives and directors from doing business with the companies they worked for. There was an exemption for institutions regulated by the US Treasury (ie banks), but not foreign financial institutions. It took 18 months of lobbying and negotiation to get the SEC to issue a special regulation to allow qualifying foreign banks to get an exemption. Since we represented all 4 big banks in Australia, we spent a lot of time calming down angry executives who railed against the unfairness of the rules forcing them to switch their mortgages and bank accounts to their competitors.
It was stressful to be working in such uncertain legal times and as the only female lawyer, I often felt isolated, though I did bond with the wonderful female support staff. Fortunately, I developed strong working relationships with clients, other counsel and advisors, many of them amazing woman lawyers and accountants with whom I am still touch today. I learned an incredible amount about teamwork, collaboration and compromise from them as we worked through novel, complex and challenging transactions.
I returned to New York in the summer 2004, but by then I knew that my days at the firm were numbered; despite working brutal hours, I had not met expectations. To be fair, I also knew by then that I did not want to stay. I had to make a move. The question was where? My spouse had left a good job in Ottawa as a high-tech engineer to follow me to Australia and then to New York. He had worked for about 18 months in Australia but not at the same level. We decided we should go where he could get a job, especially as I was pregnant. We moved back to Ottawa in August 2005 once my 16-week mat leave/vacation time was over.
I spent nearly 18 months with my infant son before returning to work. It was quite an adjustment being at home full-time without a business card. I loved the time with my child, but I felt unmoored and restless too. At the urging of the then Dean of Civil Law, Nathalie DesRosiers , I accepted a position as Assistant Dean of Graduate Studies at the Faculty of Law in August 2006. The job was mostly administrative and was never going to be a long-term position for me, but it gave me the chance to do thinking work while I had small children, which was incredibly important. Caring for babies and toddlers is physically and mentally draining and there were times when I thought I would not manage. But being back in a university environment got me thinking about becoming a professor. The challenge for me was that the world had changed since I was a 28-year old grad student applying for positions in the late 1990s. Securing a tenure-track position was going to take a substantial investment of time, money and family (especially spousal) moral support to build up a competitive file. And at the top of the list was getting a doctorate and scholarships as well as producing peer-review publications.
The experience was not unlike getting back into a sport after a long hiatus. It was painful and exhausting to build up the skills, concentration and mental sharpness I used to take for granted. But I also found that once I got back into it, the joy of learning new things and having space to explore intriguing ideas kicked in and I knew I had made the right decision.
I was hired by the Civil Law Section in 2013 and received tenure and promotion in 2019. I took a long time, but I have finally ended up in a job I love, working with people I respect and admire and making the kind of contributions that give me a deep sense of professional satisfaction. I would add that I would not be the professor I am without having gone down the windy path I followed. It is not a path I would necessarily recommend, but it forged in me a perspective on law that draws theory and practice together.
4. What is your most significant achievement? What are you proud of?
When you have had a long career, there are many things that you remember and that make you proud. They are not all achievements in the traditional sense, however. As an educator, I am proud of my students, they have done amazing things with their legal education. Moreover, their energy and enthusiasm are inspiring and infectious.
If I were to single out a traditional achievement it would be defending my doctoral dissertation and receiving my PhD from Queen’s (I dropped out of the Columbia program when I went into private practice). Unlike my previous degrees, which had come easily, it was a long and arduous process for me. When I started, I was working as an academic administrator and had two small children. Two weeks into the PhD program I discovered that I was expecting my third child, which complicated things a little! I was hired by the Civil Law Section when I was three years into what was supposed to be 3-year program; I thought at the time, I would be done in another year. Instead, I juggled family, developing and teaching new courses, writing papers and presenting at conferences, and the dissertation, for four more years. It was exhausting and many times, I thought I was going to have to give up. I felt like I was doing everything badly. This little voice in my head keep nagging at me: was I really up to the standard? Was I deluding myself that I could be a researcher at this level? What kept me going, I must confess, was the determination to show my children, especially my daughter, that through perseverance and hard work I could achieve this goal I had set for myself. Toward the end my stress over finishing kept me up at night. But then I submitted the final text and it was like this huge load was taken off my shoulders. The defense was actually fun because I knew my stuff and my examiners were great. And when convocation came around I will admit I was proud to wear my doctoral gown and Tudor cap.
In my mind, receiving the degree was a pivotal moment. For the first time, I truly saw myself as a researcher, as someone who can make a contribution to the advancement of knowledge in the public interest. After so many years of uncertainty and doubt, I felt I had found my place and that I belonged.
5. What are some key challenges, and more importantly, opportunities for women in law?
Sexism is still present in law, the legal profession and in our wider society. You will encounter it in some form or another. But the good news is that it is less and less likely that this sexism will prevent you from pursuing your goals. Don’t get me wrong: it may nevertheless interfere with specific plans, like working at a specific place or being appointed to a specific position, especially if you are subject to harassment or abuse, but these will be temporary setbacks at most. The wider arc of history is on your side. Moreover, the events of the past few weeks in reaction to the tragic death of George Floyd suggest that the tide is also turning – finally – on racism, particularly awareness of the systemic and structural factors that have entrenched it in our society.
Be aware of imposter syndrome. We all get it, but especially women. It’s that thought that you don’t belong because you are not qualified enough, don’t have enough experience or simply don’t deserve to be there. Resist that nay-saying voice in your head. Don’t count yourself out before you take a serious look at the circumstances. Ask yourself, am I ready for this challenge, do I have the skills I need, if I don’t am I able to learn as I go? And always consider the opportunity cost of passing up the chance to do something that stretches you. Timing of opportunities is rarely perfect. If you can tolerate being uncomfortable and you trust your assessment of the value of taking on something new, then you should go for it.
The greatest opportunities I see for women are in leadership positions. I am joining an executive team in Civil Law that is led by the accomplished and trailblazing Dean Marie-Ève Sylvestre and comprised entirely of women, save one. More and more institutions, public and private, are actively looking to recruit women to senior leadership positions. If that interests you, then seek out opportunities to gain experience and develop skills that you will need.
And network, network, network. Increasingly there are strong networks of women like me, who you can draw on for support, advice and mentoring. And we want to help! Networks are how you make connections and become known. How you behave in these networks when you are new and relatively inexperienced will speak volumes to those who have been around for a while. A few tips: be polite, considerate and thankful. This does not mean being meek and mild, it means you acknowledge when others have spent their valuable time and effort on your behalf. My secret weapon is the thank you note – yes, a note, in writing. These days it may be impractical to send a handwritten note, though that is the gold standard in my view, but sending a thoughtful email message, written in full sentences, proof-read with a proper greeting and salutation, is an excellent habit to develop. I also encourage sending notes of congratulation for milestones, new positions, promotions, marriages, births or other accomplishments; you might also consider sending words of encouragement to those going through difficult times, like bereavement and job loss (This pandemic has underscored the importance of proactively staying in touch and reaching out). Doing this systematically means that you never appear opportunistic when you approach someone for help. You have a track record of communications that telegraphs your interest in and concern for others.
6. What advice would you give a woman starting her legal career?
For most of us, starting something is exciting but also intimidating. We worry about not knowing enough or messing up or missing that one golden opportunity we believe will set us on the path to success and happiness.
Actually the opposite is true. New grads know a lot, probably more than most practising lawyers. They are sharp and fresh and unafraid of trying new things. They believe in change and are generally unencumbered by the kind of resignation we tend to develop as we age, which causes us to abandon lofty goals, stick with what works or to be cynical.
But knowledge is only one part of a lawyer’s job; experience is the element new grads lack. And, as much as we would like it to be otherwise, you do not gain experience – at least not useful experience - unless you push yourself a little, take risks and actually get your hands dirty. I don’t mean dirty in the sense of illegal or unethical, but I mean that you will make mistakes. Mistakes are the best teachers even if they may be awful to live through as they are happening; I say that from painful experience. You cannot expect to get through a 20-40 year career without a full range of mistakes, from small to very big. Though this may surprise you, they are probably not going to be legal mistakes of the kind that cause you to give incorrect legal advice. They are far more likely to be miscalculations of time or resources, misreading of clients’ expectations, mismanagement of people, or misjudging what you thought would give you professional and personal satisfaction. Making mistakes is inevitable and unavoidable. What matters is how you respond – this is how you mature as a lawyer and as a person. All too often women are discouraged from taking risks and told to fear making mistakes. Don’t fall into that trap. Volunteer for challenging assignments, seek out new opportunities, get out of your comfort zone, work with different people. Get line experience: experience in different departments and in different regions is a key asset if you are interested in leadership positions. Do not allow yourself to be siloed in a single unit or service. One caveat: there is sexism and a double-standard, still, in how women are evaluated and how serious their mistakes may be considered. Two pieces of advice: understand what is expected of you and make sure you state clearly what your level of experience is – if there is a serious mismatch, you want that to be known upfront. Second, seek out a mentor who can look out for you, provide advice and make sure you are not being set up to fail.
Finally, there is not one path to success and happiness. This is especially important for women lawyers to remember. As I have said to many of my students, a career is a LONG time. Even if you do grad school or started law school later, or take ten years off to have kids, you are probably still looking at 20-25 years of time for your legal/professional career. Over that long a period expect your goals and priorities to change. This is not bad, or a sign of poor planning. It is a sign that you are evolving as a person and a professional and that you are listening to yourself.
Do not let others tell you what is best for you or what you “should” do. By all means get advice, consult people, be informed. But at the end of the day, it is your life – and you are the one living it. One particularly important thing is to realize that it is possible to be “good” at something and to hate it. Sometimes we believe, with all our heart, that we should excel at something and we do not. This is not the end of the world, but a sign that you need to open your mind and think outside the box. It took me a long time to make peace with the fact that private practice was not a good fit for me and that it was not my fault, nor was it the fault of the firms I worked for. I had always associated academia with a closed community locked away from the hustle of real life. But when I sat down and was honest about I wanted to do, I realized that the university environment would provide me the space and the freedom to work the way I wanted. Don’t get me wrong – I do not work less hard or less hours, I probably work more. Academic life is stressful and constantly under-resourced. But the essential difference is that I love what I am doing and get great satisfaction from the trifecta of research, teaching and service.
Figuring out what matters to you, what your passions are, how you want to contribute to society is critically important and only you can do it. But think of this evaluation of priorities as a map that allows you to travel rather than a set of directions leading to a single destination. Every now and then you might need to stop, reassess and change course. The reasons for this may come from you or they may come from external sources that are not within your control. Regardless, if you think of your professional journey in terms of what it brings you rather that where you are going you will be adaptable and flexible and open to new opportunities when they arise.
Thank you Jennifer for this insightful and very informative post!
I started this blog series because I was tired of hearing about women leaving law and wanted to hear about women leading in law. The "Women Leading in Law" series focuses on good news stories and highlights amazing women succeeding in the legal profession. Each post includes the profiled lawyer's answers to six questions. Prepare to be inspired!
ICYMI - previous posts profiled the following amazing lawyers: Maryann Besharat, Cynthia Mason, Roots Gadhia, Evelyn Ackah, Carrisa Tanzola, Sarah Leamon, Robin Parker, Lorin MacDonald, Karen Yamamoto, Victoria Crewe-Nelson, Lynne Vicars, Kemi Oduwole, Anne-Marie McElroy, Jennifer Gold, Jordana Goldlist, Megan Keenberg, Yadesha Satheaswaran, France Mahon, Sarah Molyneaux, Richa Sandill, Vivene Salmon, Kim Whaley, Alisia Grenville, Frances Wood, Maggie Wente, Anita Szigeti, Neha Chugh, Christy Allen & Nancy Houle, Suzie Seo, Kim Gale, Alexi Wood, Melissa McBain, Erin Best, Gillian Hnatiw, Melanie Sharman Rowand, Meg Chinelo Egbunonu, Lisa Jean Helps, Nathalie Godbout Q.C., Laurie Livingstone, Renatta Austin, Janis Criger, May Cheng, Nicole Chrolavicius, Charlene Theodore, Dyanoosh Youssefi, Shannon Salter, Bindu Cudjoe, Elliot Spears, Jessica Prince, Anu K. Sandhu, Claire Hatcher, Esi Codjoe, Kate Dewhirst, Jennifer Taylor, Rebecca Durcan, Atrisha Lewis, Vandana Sood, Kathryn Manning, Kim Hawkins, Kyla Lee, and Eva Chan.
Erin C. Cowling is a freelance litigator, researcher & writer at Cowling Legal Freelance and President and Founder of FLEX LEGAL, a network of freelance lawyers.