Moots, mum and mutts.

  As I finished my PGCE in 2002, full of hope and ready to stride confidently into a career in teaching and “proper adult life”, something happened. I got pregnant. It wasn’t exactly a shock. My husband and I had been together for over three years and had vaguely agreed that children might happen at some point . I just hadn’t realised that some point meant immediately , or that it would arrive just as I’d finished studying for a diploma I feared might now be rendered entirely useless by nappies, sleep deprivation, and baby sick. The joy of impending motherhood and the quiet grief of a paused career tore me in two. I didn’t want my son to carry the weight of my guilt for loving him fiercely and choosing to nurture him, yet I resented, just a little, having to step aside, temporarily at least, from the person I thought I was becoming. But life, as it turns out, rarely asks for permission. That precious baby, who taught me more than any qualification ever could, also quietly dismantl...

  What is a hackathon? This was the main question occupying my mind over the past few days. As a law student, I am required to comply with many things which, as a mature student, I find either superfluous, downright boring, or not entirely useful. Teamwork, for example. Or being polite and courteous. Or handing essays in on time. Having spent the past couple of decades working, birthing four humans, managing a household, and somehow conducting academic research on top of it all, I find it mildly excruciating when another “life skill” task appears and gently reminds me that I am, indeed, not 19 anymore. Yes, I know what it’s like to work as part of a team. In fact, I’ve done it my entire life. In small teams, large teams, and everything in between. Some felt completely natural; others were overbearing, unnecessary, and emotionally draining. And in my experience as a student, teamwork is wildly inconsistent. Some teams are brilliant and fun. Others feel like dragging a boulder uphill...

  This morning, I entered the lecture theatre with anticipation, ready to hear about clinical negligence, personal injuries, and accidents from a panel of solicitors at Mooneerams. At first glance, the three panellists looked barely older than the students they were addressing. I was not expecting to be particularly engaged. I was wrong. After a slightly patronising experience the previous week, I braced myself for more of the same. Instead, que nenni . These young solicitors were open, warm, and refreshingly honest about their legal journeys. Shannon, the most senior of the group, spoke with an enthusiasm that was immediately infectious. Still young enough to be my daughter, she nevertheless commanded the room with confidence and ease. She described her long-standing interest in law, the variety of cases she handles, and her methodical, open-minded approach to litigation. Her message was simple but powerful: be organised, be professional, pay attention to detail, and learn how...

  So, we are back in the swing of things at UNI, and this week we were joined by a guest lecturer from Berh & Co. Senior partner Jason Hall spoke to us on a rainy morning about his role as a family lawyer and the pathway that led him there. Being of a certain age, I found myself quietly wondering about the options for those of us who do not fit the traditional route into law. I feel far too old to become a junior lawyer, and yet, to reach where I want to go, there don’t seem to be many alternatives. According to Jason, only those with the fullest of CVs are likely to get a look in, without relying on luck, especially when your CV doesn’t even make it to the consultation table. Jason described qualifying as a mature student, although still in his twenties, back in 2000. His pathway ticked many impressive boxes: passing the Bar, working as a civil servant in court services for ten years, and being inspired (or perhaps provoked) by the poor quality of some lawyers he encountered ...