Joe Shaub

One of the best things about practicing law is a good secretary. Forget the income, prestige, interesting work . . . all that stuff they tell you about in law school, so you’re ready for it. But many folks come out of law school into a job which gives them a secretary, and some young lawyers make the great mistake of dismissing the assistant because they’re not . . . well, they’re not a lawyer. My most recent experience with this blessing of our profession is instructive. But first, by way of background.

In my early years as a lawyer, I (child of the ‘60s that I was) took the staunch position that a secretary worked “with” me, not “for” me. That belief worked well until I had dictated a letter to an expert which had the phrase, “This check is to be applied toward our retention of you” and when I walked behind her , she was typing that letter, which now said, “applied toward our retainment of you.” I asked why she made the change and she matter-of-factly said, “Because what you said sounded like s***.” Well, I suppose I was a bit lax in my establishment of a hierarchy.

Eventually, I decided to leave the litigation firm that had provided me income, prestige and very interesting work, and go to school and get a master’s degree in marriage and family therapy. Ten years ago, I moved to this beautiful place and, for reasons that don’t easily fit in the space of this column, worked as a temporary secretary for a number of lawyers through The Affiliates (now Robert Half Legal). I worked for lawyers in Davis Wright (great HR and technology), the late Bogle and Gates (great people) and various solos and small firms. Some of my warmest lawyer friends used to be my employers.

There is no comparing this experience, though, for gaining an understanding of what it’s like to be a legal secretary. I remember one woman (in a firm not named here) who advised me in a hushed voice that my new boss needed to have many copies of the letters I provided him because they got lost in his office. I was also informed, in great solemnity, that his container of pretzels must be kept full at all times. Well, since I had been a lawyer for 20 years at that point, I wondered, “Who is this guy?” Great attorney, I’m sure, but please . . . . I worked for another fellow who was such a mess that I spent half my time cleaning up the garbage (literally) that filled his office. Also, he was just plain mean and I couldn’t imagine how anyone could work with him.

Organization, for me, was the great blessing in any lawyer I worked for. I recalled when I was a young, very disorganized lawyer and understood, for the first time, the stress that creates for the people who served me. I used to believe that just because I was a very likeable guy and didn’t throw a blanket of arrogance over my assistant, it must be just great to work with a lawyer like me. False. I found that my tendency to disorganization made the life of an assistant so unpleasant and stressful that I would be hard-pressed to have a countervailing asset to overcome this fairly pronounced deficit.

So when I finally opened up my solo practice, I did everything myself. Short of being a legal secretary, this is the best thing one can do to appreciate all that these wonderful people bring to your life. As with many solos, the first years are filled with tasks which we do ourselves because we have not developed our practices to the point where we can afford support. I recall that while doing mailers five years ago, I’d rent four of the most ridiculous movies my wife would never watch and sit on the floor, devoting my time to labeling and stamping the bulk mailers that announced the various workshops I did for marketing. I did my own filing, banking, returning telephone calls to everybody and myriad other support tasks. This is a great education, because you learn all the things that go into making a law firm run. Eventually, if you’re lucky, you get enough business that your time can be spent actually practicing law and making money to pay for your support.

Jack Canfield (of “Chicken Soup for the Soul” fame) co-wrote a book called “Power of Focus” which discusses how we transform our dreams into reality. One of his most salient pieces of advice is to decide what you do well and delegate that other stuff you don’t do so well to someone else, to keep you organized and on track. Those who have been blessed with great support from the infancy of their careers make, I believe, the grave mistake of taking this boon for granted. Yet, if you’re lucky enough to start your practice from scratch, you never will make this mistake.

So, fast forward to 2005. My practice has gotten to the point that I am far too busy to engage in administrative tasks, so I place an ad in the Seattle Times . . . a “will train” type of ad. I interviewed some good people and settled on one woman because she had a wonderful, warm personality. Her lack of experience, however, resulted in mistakes which only exacerbated the stress I was hoping to alleviate. Finally, one day, I decided to explore the same agency which had employed me some 10 years ago.

They set me up for an interview with an experienced family law secretary who sat down in my conference room and in a very comfortable, engaging manner, interviewed me. At one point she asked, “What makes you happy?” and this commenced an exchange I will always remember. I told her my daughter and my dog, spending time with my family, putting together a really good work product I’m proud of. Then I said to her, “You know, Sheryl, that’s a good question, what makes you happy?” Without any hesitation, she said, “When I can look back at the end of the day and know that I have been of service.” Of course, my lawyer/cynic brain was saying, “This cannot be for real,” but there was a directness and sincerity that banished this doubt. We continued for the next hour-and-a-half and at the end I knew -- she was for real . . . and in a funny way, I believe I have come full circle.

In the beginning of my career, my secretary worked “with” me. Now I have hired someone who lives to serve -- who seems to get pleasure from calling me “boss.” For a long time, I could not fathom such a philosophy. It seemed so demeaning. Yet, I was mistaken. I don’t know if I can adequately convey this, but there is more nobility in the heartfelt commitment to serve than in any false pretension to the egalitarian. I feel cared for, supported and enabled to provide the service in which I excel.

I often take the position that we lawyers don’t clearly appreciate our blessings. It’s my hope, as these beautiful Northwest summer days shift into a bracing autumn, that we permit ourselves to embrace the good fortune we enjoy in the smart, competent, thoughtful and steadying presence of the person who supports our professional life. n