When I was growing up, my father always told me that he wanted me to pursue a career in which I would be financially independent, self-sufficient and dependent on no one. He hoped that I would get married and have children, but he recognized that life did not always go as planned.
And he should know. He was the youngest of three children, dropped out of school when he was 13 and joined the military at 17. He fought in Korea and did two tours in Vietnam. After the wars, he went to college and earned his degree. He recognized the value of education and pushed me hard as a young woman to go to college.
I had no idea what I wanted to be when I grew up, but I was horrible at math and science. I loved to talk, though, so I settled on being a lawyer. I had no idea what lawyers did other than what I saw on TV. I researched law schools and discovered that Baylor University had a program in which I could finish both undergraduate and law school in six years. Since I was in large part putting myself through school, it made a lot of sense to not incur that seventh year of college expense. So, sight unseen, I applied and enrolled.
Baylor Law School was one of the most defining experiences of my life. I was fortunate enough to do well and received several offers to clerk for good firms. It was in the process of interviewing for summer clerkships that I first realized there might be some road bumps as a woman trying to become a trial attorney. I vividly remember interviewing with a firm in Fort Worth in 1986, where the lawyers at the firm took us to lunch at a private club at the top of one of the Fort Worth skyscrapers. But it was an all-male club, so men had to accompany us or we could not eat at the restaurant. I was naïve enough at the time not to think too much of it other than to be mildly offended.
Ultimately, I accepted an offer to clerk for Judge Sam Johnson on the U.S. Court of Appeals for the Fifth Circuit. Judge Johnson was based in Austin so I moved to the city in 1987. I fell in love with Austin and accepted an offer to work for Scott Douglass & McConnico, an exceptional firm of trial attorneys.
I was 26 years old and ready to conquer the world. It was at this point that I fully realized there would be barriers I would need to overcome as a woman trying to become a “go-to” trial attorney — no matter how good or smart I was.
Trial attorneys are warriors, a label not traditionally associated with women. In addition, when I entered the profession the vast majority of trial attorneys were men. While some amazing women had broken through the ranks (Louise Raggio, Jerry Clements, Martha Dickie) paving the way for future female trial attorneys, it was still incredibly difficult for women.
Fortunately, I was able to work with both men and women at Scott Douglass who believed in me and provided me opportunities to excel. I can still recall Steve McConnico allowing me, as a young associate, to argue a hearing on behalf of our client. The case featured multiple defendants, all of whom were represented by primarily older male attorneys That meant so much to me and is only one of many opportunities Steve provided to me to have significant responsibility in the courtroom when the profession was dominated by men.
I was also blessed to be mentored by another phenomenal lawyer, Phyllis Pollard. One story that sums up what it was like to be a female trial attorney in the 1990s is a hearing that she and I attended in San Antonio. We reached an agreement with the male attorneys who were our opposing counsel, and the judge (also male) asked us to dictate the agreement into the record. The opposing counsel started dictating the agreement to Phyllis, and she gladly wrote it down — just the way we wanted it to be memorialized for our client. They treated her like a secretary, not realizing that it gave us control. Women were definitely treated differently by many men back then, but if you were savvy enough you could use it to your advantage.
I would be remiss if I did not mention how challenging it was as a woman to have a trial practice and raise a family. I had my first son in 1997 and my second in 2000. Juggling the demands of being a mother and a full-time trial attorney was challenging, but fortunately I had incredible support from my husband. I believe, however, this is still one of the main challenges for women as trial attorneys.
In 2012, I started my own law firm with Geoff Weisbart and Butch Hayes, two of the finest trial attorneys I know. But as important as their skill as attorneys is their belief and support for me — and other women at the firm.
But we still have hurdles to overcome. The percentage of women who are in ABOTA and other prominent trial attorney organizations is still not where it should be in proportion to the number of women in the profession, but it is getting better each year. I am honored by the women who came before me, and my goal is to provide opportunities for the young women in my firm and encourage them to never accept the status quo if it inhibits their opportunities.
I recall a conversation with a young female attorney whom I respect a great deal about the Augusta National Golf Club (host to the Masters Tournament) still refusing admission to women in 2012. The young attorney was not that upset by the club’s stance at the time (her mind has since changed). I told her that she should be because it was in the private club at the Masters that only men had access to where business relationships were formed and deals were brokered. Much is the same with litigation. Women need to have a seat at the tables where business is discussed and awarded.
I love being a trial attorney. My father would be proud.