Back to Uni, Back to Reality

 

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 along the way. He openly acknowledged the difficulty of securing pupillage and how, somewhat unexpectedly, he found his way into family and civil law, despite a preference for criminal practice.

He worked across three law firms, gravitating towards safeguarding work. Studying while working, he said, was tough, and if it hadn’t been for ambition, determination, and resilience, he doubted he would have made it through. The question of pay was never fully answered, although he was candid enough to note that when the government tells you what you can charge, the reality is far less lucrative than people imagine. If money were the goal, he said, corporate law would have been the obvious choice, but it would have made him cry with boredom.

All in all, I was impressed.

The questions from my fellow students were sensible, but I found myself wanting to dig deeper, really dig. I wanted to ask about the uncomfortable things. How is AI interfering with your job? If you had to do it all again, would you? What was the worst thing that happened to you along the way?

But there was one question that bothered me more than any other.

No one asked.
And I didn’t feel brave enough to expose myself in front of the entire year group.

Still, it stayed with me.

So, Jason, while you were working, studying, and pushing yourself to where you are now, did you have any support?

Not financial support, necessarily. I assume you were working. But support at home. Someone cooking and cleaning for you. You described gruelling, stressful weekdays with long hours, how did you find time to wash your clothes? Do the food shopping? Organise life? You told us you have a young daughter. How did you find time to socialise, to maintain a relationship?

Because we are the same age.

And in 2000, when I began studying politics, I had the same ambition. Yet it has taken me another twenty years to almost reach my dream job, almost, if I get there at all.

You told us we need to spend all our spare time volunteering, travelling for experience, staying focused, staying educated, staying visible. And I understand that advice. I really do.

But here’s the part that feels missing.

I am the organiser in our house.
The childcare provider.
The counsellor to a husband and teenagers.
The dog walker.
The family secretary.
The meal planner and cook.
The budgeter.
The nurse.
The teacher.
The laundress, the driver and so much more.

And if I have a few spare seconds, they will most likely go towards self-care, because without it, I wouldn’t function at all.

I love advice about how to succeed.
But Jason, you forgot something.

Women are far less likely to succeed, not because we lack ambition, resilience, or ability to manage difficult tasks, but because the system quietly assumes someone else is holding everything together behind the scenes. And those people don’t get to be lawyers…

On that note, thank you Jason for your time, and if my CV ever crosses your desk, I would hope for recognition of so many skills I have acquired over the past 25 years, skills that would make me the absolute best lawyer you would have ever had. Skills hidden behind the curtain of the success of others and my sheer dedication to make it a reality.