If you give a first gen a responsibility...

One of my favorite books as a child was "If You Give a Mouse a Cookie." This popular picture book details the situation presented in the title: what would happen if you gave a mouse a cookie. First, he would ask for some milk to wash it down. Then, he would ask for a napkin to wipe his face. Then, he would want to look at himself in the mirror to make sure he was clean. Then, he would notice he needed a haircut. And so on and so forth. 

I am not a kindergarten teacher, nor do I have an English degree, so I am unsure of the intended message of the book. My takeaway as an adult is that if you are generous to someone, they may perhaps keep asking things from you until you can no longer give. Maybe it was my malleable childhood brain or my ambivalent/avoidant attachment style, but I have internalized this to mean that asking too much of others makes you a burden. 

A recurring theme in this class has been the grit that first-gen students often possess. Most of us have described our "I'll figure it out on my own" attitude, and we saw that reflected in a study of first-gen law students. We also heard from a guest speaker how the first-gen students she had interviewed demonstrated not taking advantage of resources in schools, such as office hours, because of a rural mentality associated with extreme self-sufficiency.

This semester, I had the honor of being elected Managing Editor ("ME") of the UC Davis Law Review. Being ME is my first higher up executive position since, well... ever. Having this position has made me question my perspective on responsibility, especially as someone with a first-gen mentality. This is an actual case of when you give a first-gen law student a responsibility -- rather than a cookie. 

The commitments for this position began the day I was elected. Within the first couple of hours after receiving the email, I was meeting with the new Editor-in-Chief to talk about tasks that needed to be done. That weekend, he and I met with almost all of our new editors over some 10 meetings. Since then, I have put on an info session and a panel and created many Google forms and an Instagram account, not to mention the organization meetings and class appearances I've attended with my DEI Editors and Projects Editor. 

I have not been given much instruction by the previous ME, or maybe rather I have not sought out the instruction necessary to feel well-prepared. Despite this, I have adjusted quite a bit, I started out in the position often crying and having anxiety attacks because I had no idea what I was doing. It seemed that, even when I asked for help from the previous ME, I was making mistakes that undermined others' confidence in my ability. 

With my first-gen mentality, I needed to figure it out on my own. I had always done so before, and why would that change now? I mean how hard could it really be juggling all of these emails and tasks? I told myself that I would be a burden to others if I asked for help. I needed to be perfect the first time, without help, or else I would see myself as a failure. 

Over the past couple of months in this position, I can think of maybe 2 or 3 times where I have delegated a task to someone else. Given the number of emails, forms, and events I am technically responsible for, I am realizing I need to get comfortable saying "hey, can you make this form for me?," or something similar. The Editor-in-Chief has appointed a Projects Editor whose entire position is to help me and the DEI Editors with events and recruitment, yet I have given her little to do. 

People see I am stressed and offer to help, but I really don't know what to tell them. If I can't do all of the things within the scope of my position, then what good am I? I wish I could say this post will inspire me to delegate more efficiently, but I am pretty sure that it won't. The attitudes are simply too ingrained to shrug off easily.

This attitude of extreme self-sufficiency has permeated many aspects of my schooling. It is the same mentality that keeps me from attending office hours. If I can't figure out the answer on my own, I tend to think, what good am I? I rarely ask my parents for money because, I tend to think, if I can't take care of myself, what good am I? 

Ironically, this has not yet carried into my professional life. I think that my fear of doing a bad job and being reprimanded overrides my anxiety to ask for help. I do worry, however, that I will be less willing to ask questions or delegate as I get more comfortable in my career. The first-gen mentality will no doubt persist for some time to come. 

If you give a mouse a cookie, he may never stop asking more and more of you. He may ask so much that you can't stand it. If you give a first-gen student a responsibility, they will likely thank you and figure it out on their own. 

If you give a first gen a cookie though. Well, to that, I would have no idea, but I don't think there's any way a first gen would ever be as demanding as the mouse.

“Big Law” Series: What does the "end" of DEI mean for students and "big law" job prospects? (Part III)

See Part I and Part II.

DEI and Big Law: Benefits of DEI initiatives 

In some ways, the elimination of law firm DEI programs will not significantly impact first-gen students' abilities to get "big law" jobs. Sure, these programs offer students a high-paying job and scholarship. But grades, achievements, and fit have and will continue to take precedence in hiring decisions. As a 2009 LCLD scholar states in his LinkedIn post, “[m]ost employers aren’t really in the business of hiring people who can’t do the work.” However, the elimination of law firm-DEI programs will influence accessibility and retention. 

For example, fewer first-generation students may be encouraged to apply for these spots because they do not hear about potential positions as firms cut their marketing budgets. Even for students who are not selected to participate in these prestigious programs, they get a competitive advantage by talking to law firm recruiters early in the process. Eliminating incentives to apply––like a hefty scholarship––may mean fewer first-gen applicants. Demand for "big law" jobs is also increasing as the Trump administration has eliminated the DOJ Honors program and other government work opportunities. 

Retention measures may also be at risk. Affinity organizations––groups which underrepresented minority individuals can join within firms––often help associates transition into big-law life. Advantages like meeting coworkers your first year versus second, learning the culture of the workplace, or understanding the structure of a law firm are exponentially beneficial to students who are the “first and onlys” in their families; they are, perhaps, lost on illegible students who come from a long line of attorneys or working professionals who can give them the same mentorship they would gain from an extra summer of work. 

First-gen law students will have to overcome many barriers, obstacles, and unknowns to get to law school, let alone to succeed in “big law:” taking the LSAT, completing several law school applications, purchasing suits, participating in "OCI," getting good grades, attending networking events, and more. Accessibility, in my opinion, is not defined as whether the application "door" is open. Accessibility connotes whether interested students are given equal opportunities to set goals; participate meaningfully in school- and workplace-culture; or control their careers.

Law schools should continue to use holistic measures to create a more diverse student population. This diversity is not limited to ethnic or socioeconomic diversity, though. It should be, as Justice O’Connor noted in the majority opinion of Grutter, “focus[ed] on academic ability coupled with a flexible assessment of applicants’ talents, experiences, and potential ‘to contribute to the learning of those around them.’” Id. at 315. The legal field––which, according to the ABA, has long been dominated by white (78% of the profession, 2024), straight (approx. 93% of the profession, 2023), able-bodied (approx. 98% of the profession, 2023) lawyers––is thus served by instituting these diversity measures. As long as financial and informational disparities exist, these DEI programs are justified.