Mostly Useless

Law jobs: your chance to realize that even though you were just in school for 8 months, you don't know how to actually DO anything.

This summer I'm working for a women's centre doing legal advocacy in Penticton. I just finished my first week, and it was overwhelming. All of my co-workers are friendly and helpful, and I've already tapped into the legal community here, but from day one I realized how steep the learning curve is.

Even though we learned a ton in first year, and I understand some basic legal principles, I don't know how to put any of that knowledge into action. I had a client come in whose uncle wanted to vary his grandfather's will. After explaining the Wills Variation Act, I was at a complete loss as to the next steps. What do you actually do when someone comes into your office with a Notice of Claim? Luckily we have an awesome consulting lawyer come into the office on Fridays and answer our legal questions, so we got it sorted out, but I was completely useless.

The law is complicated. That's why lawyers get paid so much money. But sometimes it seems unnecessarily so. Although there are tons of resources online for people who need legal information (the Legal Services Society and Clicklaw have already been helpful), they don't cover everything. And a lot of our clients are older and don't know how to use a computer or the internet. Legal Aid barely covers the necessities (i.e. things you could go to jail for). For a lot of people, community groups like the Penticton Women's Centre are the only places they can turn to for help. We do our best, but we only have trained lawyers in a few times a week. The rest of the work is done by legal advocates, like my supervisor, David, who has worked in legal advocacy positions for years.

David provides great information for people, but it seems like there is a gap in services. Why doesn't the government provide clearer information to people about what to do when they're faced with a legal problem? The provincial courts website has statutes and court rules, but these are written in dense language that even a law student can have a difficult time deciphering. What about someone who hasn't finished high school?

As lawyers, our job will be to make the law clear to people. It's unfortunate that it takes three years of intensive training to be able to do this, when the law affects peoples' lives every day.

Blown Away

Fort St. John is ridiculously windy in the spring. By the time I walk from my car to the office, my hair is a tangled mess stuck pointing one direction and I have dirt in my eyebrows. It's also not very warm, so the two together give me the impression that my usual summertime favourites (ex. going to the beach) are going to need a bit of tweaking. I'm hoping to find some hiking around town and I'm on the lookout for outdoorsy people to befriend! Something that is pretty cool/ jarring though is that the amount of light in a day - the other night I left the pub and it was still so bright out!

I've just finished my first week, and I am finding a great fit with my job, and a funny fit with the town.

Here are some highlights!

1. There is a really alive and active poverty law community online. I've joined emailing lists which are full of other poverty law advocates (usually with various community groups in different towns, just like us) with a wealth of knowledge. It's heartening to see so many people doing this kind of work. The disheartening part, though, is that very few of them are lawyers. Most are like my direct supervisor who has a background in something related (social work, criminology) but who learned everything on the job. Both of us are supervised by a lawyer in town who signs off on everything we write and any full representation we do, but unfortunately there just isn't much funding for full time lawyers in poverty law. Only really exceptional/ egregious cases or charter challenges end up being forwarded to the lawyers at organizations like TRAC or CLAS (who, incidentally, were at the UVic wine and cheese!).

2. There's a fine line between advocacy and dependency. We see all kinds of people walk through the door (men and women). Some are first time clients, some are long time users and have a long history with the centre. The other day I had a long time client ask me if I could type something up for them, because they weren't good at putting words on paper. When I suggested that they could try writing a draft that I could then edit, I met a lot of resistance. When I really refused to write it, I got yelled at and (according to my supervisor) super close to getting punched in the face. Legal advocates are not lawyers though - advocates help with legal issues but are really meant to help people through their own process. They're meant to build agency, but that's not always what happens. Sometimes clients who come in are so familiar with victimization that they become comfortable with other people fixing their situation. The last thing we want to do, though, is to enable further dependency. I've been asked to think about setting up a way to collect information on what our clients have gained through the legal advocacy experience - whether at the end of it they're better informed and knew why they went through the process they did. This is something that the Law Foundation would really like - any thoughts? We're thinking some sort of exit survey or meeting.

3. Often we have to work with other professionals - social workers, mental health workers, doctors. The other day we spent 2 hours putting sticky notes on a report because the doctor didn't fill it out properly. And I get why - the forms are long, repetitive, tedious, and take a lot of time out of their really busy day. Many of the doctors in town are great about it, but there are some who repeated lead to denied claims. I've been asked to come up with a workshop which can (hopefully) attract health care workers and teach them how to fill out the forms (for things like disability assessment for pensions or welfare) - this would hopefully reduce the time it takes them, and it would decrease the number of appeals we have to do. Thoughts?

4. Before moving here, this town was described to me as "redneck country" where "people shoot deer out their window". It's conservative. Really conservative. The men who work in the oilfields have a tight knit organization and they have a big presence this town. And I'm pretty awkward - my car is really conspicuous among the giant trucks everywhere. I've managed to find yoga, but even at the orientation for the Mother's Day 5k run/walk that I'm volunteering at tomorrow, it's mostly men in the oil and gas industry who are volunteering/organizing. Granted, they're pretty well suited for it (they have all these construction signs that they're using to mark the route) but I stick out for sure!

Overall, I could really use a weekend's rest! While on the one hand it makes me wonder what I should do with myself in a place where I don't know many people (ahhhh), on the other I've been napping, watching New Girl (featuring Zooey Deschanel - it's awesome) and loving it. Tomorrow morning it's up bright and early so I can go hold a stop sign at an intersection for the 5k race! I've been informed I have no legal authority to make anyone stop, but that I can try to be persuasive. Hahaha ...

Cheers,
Sharon

Riding for valour, changing your name to T-Rex and other silly things on the internet...

A daily dose of the Harper Government's desire to seemingly overhaul the democratic process can lead one astray from the mainstream news and in search of greener pastures. Here are some lighter things I came across in the news this week.

For those of us wondering whether Game of Thrones could become anything more than a Sunday evening in front of the TV, the CBC managed to find a young knight crossing Canada by horseback. Vincent Gabriel Kirouac embarked several months ago on his journey from Quebec atop his trusty steed, Lionheart, in an effort to show that true valour still exists. Now, the CBC only credited him with "dressing" like a knight, but I suspect a true knighthood is on the horizon, albeit a difficult title to attain. Just ask Sir Nils Olav, Colonel-in-Chief of the Norwegian King's Guard.

Metta World Peace readies for T-Rex (Image: TheFaster Times)

Falling into the category of "damn it, why didn't I think of that?" comes the totally awesome news out of York, Nebraska, where a young man has legally changed his name to Tyrannosaurus Rex. Tyrannosaurus Rex Joseph Gold felt the name was a lot "cooler" than Tyler and figured it might help him stand out as a budding entrepreneur. The judge, satisfied that this name change had nothing to do with evading creditors or law enforcement, agreed with Tyler's - oops, sorry, T-Rex's - assessment of the name change. I imagine the judge replaced his gavel with a high-five. I just hope he doesn't bother people in the same way that I'm irked every time basketball announcers manage to say Metta World Peace (the man formerly known as Ron Artest) without cracking a smile.  

A Summer Outside the Law

My compatriots have found themselves in new places and in unfamiliar circumstances. My summer situation is far less exciting. Rather than traveling great distances and directly applying the legal knowledge I paid $10,000 for, I find myself back where I was before I started law school: working as an academic researcher looking at the controversies of hydro development - just this time, in BC.

Don't get me wrong, I'm pretty happy with what I've got going on. I work as flexible hours as I'd like, where I'd like, and work with some very cool people. The work is interesting and something I am very comfortable with. And I get paid well enough. Moreover, it allows me the long-term flexibility to leave for southern Ontario in the middle of the summer to work at a summer program for super-smart high school kids - they are far smarter than I will ever be.

But for all the advantages of this summer set up, there is a lingering feeling that I am missing out and falling behind. I found a remarkable and implied pressure during the first year of law school that we should pursue summer positions in the legal field. It needn't be limited to law firms and we were encouraged to seek out positions with the government and with non-profits. But it should still fall within the legal purview. Indeed, many of us were lucky enough to get into UVic's renowned law co-op program, which is designed to place students in four-month legal work terms. While many in our class were able to find positions in the co-op program, lots of us were unable to do so. The reasons are many and varied, but a less-than-stellar job market is largely to blame.

Anticipatory Anxiety

New cities terrify me. When I first moved to Victoria, I dragged all my bags up three flights of stairs, looked down at the few belongings I had in the middle of an empty apartment on a rainy day in a city where I knew no one, and then cried. I called my friend Brian and told him I wanted to go home - and I meant it! I'm a creature of habit and I feel lost easily without familiar faces.

And now I find myself in Fort St. John, BC - the farthest north I've ever been! I drove in last night and started working today, and surprisingly enough I'm already starting to feel the edge of new-place-anxiety wear off. Maybe I'm getting better at adapting to change - it helps that two weeks into living in Victoria I made some amazing friends (these Law Kids!). Reading Meg's post below also gave me a feeling of great calm and comfort - I'm not up here alone.

Fort St. John is the largest city in BC north of Prince George, and like Fort McMurray (which is about the same latitude) it's an oil and gas town. It makes for a very interesting dynamic - it's a very young city with new wealth and a very large income disparity. Fresh out of high school, someone might earn anywhere from $25,000 working a minimum wage service job to $120,000 in the oil field. Along with this comes a predominantly conservative view of family roles - as I found out today - which really colours the kind of work I'll be doing.

I'm working at the women's resource centre, which provides a shelter for women and their children, an outreach centre with donated food, clothing and household items, and a poverty law and housing program. My role will be primarily dealing with poverty law - mostly cases involving landlord/ tenancy issues, employment, social welfare, disability benefits, and child custody. Since I'm funded as a law student outside of the poverty law program, though, I have a bit more flexibility to take on civil case work, so it'll be interesting to see what comes through the door. And I mean literally come through the door! Women come in all throughout the day to ask about what they can do about a situation. Sometimes they come in seeking legal action, sometimes they're in to use the outreach centre and just mention a challenge they're having in casual conversation on their way out. And from there, it seems that my role is to listen actively, to tease out the legislation involved, and to use my legal knowledge to get clients where they need to be. WILD!

Overall I really enjoyed my first day. I felt a level of candidness that I didn't expect from someone doing legal work and it felt great - I guess feminists are feminists wherever they go! Here are two take home messages from the day:
1) Law school teaches you things after all! When asked "what do you know about family law" all I could think about was my property law prof advising us to bring lawyers and accountants on dates. As the day went by though, I nodded at words like "partition", "survivorship" and "security of the person", comforted by the fact that I half knew what was going on and could probably look it up later
2) In poverty law, part of a lawyer's work is a lot like counselling. I think there's a lot of active listening, empathy, non-judgment, and resilience in the face of really devastating cases needed in this kind of work

Overall, a great first day. Let's see what tomorrow brings!

Sharon

On the drive up from Vancouver - the land becomes a lot flatter and more prairie like by Fort St. John

First Impressions from the 'Real World'

Perhaps a necessary preamble: After completing 1^st year law, I have just begun my first ‘law job’, working as a legal research assistant in the north.

Going to school and studying ‘the law’, I am just another student. I can wear what I like, talk how I wish, slouch if I choose, and be late if I want. My experience in the ‘real law world’ ... I’d say started 5 days ago when I took the duct tape off my pants and reluctantly handed them over to the seamstress. It was a big day. That same day I bought two pairs of shoes that reminded me of my mom. I just did it, but tried not to think about it too much.  ‘Flats’ now means more than the sad state of past bike tires. Weird.

A few days later, I actually went to work. The fact that I was in ‘that world’ hit me when I first sat back at my desk, considered the assignment I had been given, and realized I had absolutely no clue what I was supposed to be doing. Next, I was invited into the office of a senior lawyer, who sat me down and proceeded to ask me, straight up: ‘tell me what you know about Aboriginal law’’. I tried not to panic as he sat back expectantly in his chair and my face flushed uncontrollably. I actually wondered if it was actually happening.  My constitutional law classmates might be able to imagine the heat of my cheeks. 

What I seem to find most reflective of this world I have entered (keep in mind, I’ve only been working for 2 days) is my first lunch. My principal showed up at my office door, announced that we were going for lunch, and, without asking for any input from me or explaining anything to do with ‘lunch’, led me out the building, around the corner, and to a coffee shop. When we moved out of line to put down our jackets, she moaned that we hadn’t been attentive to the 3 people who slid in line before us. I’ve never felt such pressure to know exactly what I wanted. Nor have I ever felt such pressure to hustle the people preparing it to go faster, quick, hand over that soup! Lunch proceeded, quickly, with informal questions fired off at an impressively formal pace. The ‘friendship’ question list was getting ticked quickly … and then the phone rang, and we had to return. It was over. Quick! Impatiently ask for take away containers! And then we were walking back to the building, 15 minutes after we left it, with take away soup tucked under my arm in a container I’ve otherwise sworn against … in my business pants …. in my blazer … in my flats. How lawyerly. But what’s funny is that I completely respect my principal. She is busy, important, has kids, a demanding practice. She was doing what she was supposed to do, and trying to make it relaxed and enjoyable. Fail. But she was genuinely trying. So do I groan critically and analyze the pace at which this suited lunch progressed? Or do I take it light heartedly as just a humorous demonstration of what my black flats have walked me into? Really, it was one lunch, I shouldn’t extrapolate from it a generalization of lawyers or lunches or lifestyles, but my, I couldn’t help a few giggles at how ridiculous it seemed. How right on the mark of social stereotyping we were.

I brought work home with me this weekend. Ha! My first weekend, after 2 days of work! Having no idea what you’re doing is a good incentive to sacrifice a bit of free weekend to spare Monday morning cluelessness. Also, I’m still in student mode … having two full days of no homework or readings is already making me feel lazy and unproductive. Might as well review some case law eh … oh my: is it happening already? Thank the lordy I’m in birks … and my bike is just out the window. 

Getting Investors to Pay for Social Programs

Government wallets are a little light these days. 

Deficits are sitting at the highest levels in decades and public officials need to pay the piper. And given the political risks of raising taxes, most governments are instead looking to cut spending. Although most areas of public spending are being trimmed, social programs aren't having the easiest go of it - in particular, those experimental pilot programs.

Harper isn't rolling in it anymore (Image: CityTV)

Experimental social programs are especially susceptible to the austerity axe. The benefits they produce are generally difficult to measure economically and are thus externalized. As a result, they can seem relatively more expensive than their internalized brethren and even given the title of unnecessary luxuries. Moreover, unproven programs are a tad risky, especially for a government counting every penny. Environmental programs share the same characteristics. The trouble, of course, is that just because something is difficult to measure doesn't mean it isn't valuable. In many cases they may actually save the government money. For example, relatively cheap anti-smoking campaigns could save the health care system quite a bit by preventing the public from smoking.    

When governments don't pony up the cash or resources, the slack is usually picked up by non-profits, charities, churches or corporations looking to do a good deed. But these are far from reliable sources. Much of the trouble is financial. As the economy struggles, there is less money to go around. And those with money to spend are less likely to put it towards something that doesn't pay direct financial dividends.

So what is an answer? Enter Social Impact Bonds.

Law on the Sports Field - Bountygate and Beyond

Sports fans and athletes are oft to invoke the old adage 'what happens on the field, stays on the field'. But some actions are so egregious that the criminal law is inevitably thrown into the mix.

Gregg Williams, the man at the centre of Bountygate (Image: USA Today

Take the recently uncovered 'Bountygate' scandal in the National Football League. The NFL has begun a serious investigation into allegations that over the past few seasons coaches for the New Orleans Saints have employed a bounty system, rewarding thousand-dollar sums for hits that cause significant injury to opposing players. For example, "knockouts" were worth $1500, while "cartoffs" were valued at $1000, with premiums added during playoff games. The Defensive Coordinator in charge of the bounty system has since admitted to and apologized for the bounties.

The League, as one would hope, will undoubtedly charge significant fines and apply lengthy suspensions to any players, coaches and management caught up in the scandal. Considering the League's recent focus on head injuries, these penalties may be especially punishing. But the penalties may come from beyond the league.

Different night, different problems

So, Chris took my idea for my first blog post.

I did my Vic PD ridealong the night after Chris did his. I feel like I got a different perspective (maybe it's because I was with a lady cop) so I'm going to put out a few observations from my first night in the front seat of a cop car.

From trendhunter.com - Brooke Shields, Candice Swanepoel and Elaine Irwin are 'Lady Cops' in Vogue Paris.

Law students get almost no practical experience in their first year. We learn about the law in general, and not a lot about how it applies to people's lives. I've done six months of criminal law, and if I was arrested, I wouldn't be clear on my rights. So any chance I get to do a real life law thing, I take it.

Officer Chris: A Ride-Along with Vic PD

I spent my Friday night running after a police dog, holding the keys to a cop car in my pocket and meeting some of Victoria's most colourful characters.

Beyond more free pizza lunches than your body can rightly handle, being a law student affords you interesting opportunities every once in awhile. I was quick to sign up when a colleague of mine organized a series of ride-alongs with the Victoria Police Department.

I had little idea what to expect. Given Victoria's aged population and sleepy reputation, I had difficulty fathoming a very busy night. But as I came to learn very quickly, Victoria has got its fair share of problems.

Image: 49th-parallel.blogspot.com

My night began around 7:00 pm. After my initial placement left the station on an important call, I was placed with a veteran officer -- for the sake of anonymity, Officer Q. He was very pleasant and seemed happy to have me on, but was nonetheless a tad reluctant. And with good reason. Having a civilian in the passenger seat certainly doesn't make an already stressful job any easier. It's just one extra thing to have to worry about. With that in mind, I was especially appreciative.

As Q started listing a couple basic precautions, he handed me a set of keys to our cop car. It suddenly dawned on me that I was about to embark on something inherently dangerous. I managed to shake from my mind any scenarios in which I would need to use the car keys, but it did serve to remind me to stay out of harm's (and the officer's) way.