Oh… the places you’ll go… the shit that you’ll do: An in-firm memoir
Reading Week was a joyous time for me in 1L. For the first time in months, I could sleep past 6:00 a.m. I could eat breakfast, lunch, and dinner. I could actually do the readings I may-or-may-not have neglected. But in 2L, Reading Week seemed more like a nightmare because of In-Firms (cue ominous music).
Prior to Reading Week, there was buzz all around U of T Law. I could tell you which person would be in-firming where—even if I’d never so much as had a conversation with them. It was creepy. I was creepy. But I was nervous and being nervous makes you do crazy things—like learn everyone’s schedule for the week, have lawstudents.ca open 24/7, and memorize three years of Ultra Vires’ recruitment statistics. I was determined to get a job, and I knew exactly where I wanted to go: Goodmans LLP.
So, when Call Day came, I (being the overly nervous, neurotic freak that I am), scheduled nine in-firms, five receptions, two dinners, one lunch and a partridge in a pear tree. But, most importantly, on Monday morning at 8:00 a.m., I scheduled my first in-firm with Goodmans.
On Monday, November 5, at 4:45 a.m., I was awake. I was ready. Well, almost—I still had to put on my suit, my heels, a pound of makeup, and my trusty CDO-issued name tag—but otherwise, I was totally ready. I left my house at 6:30, commuted down to 333 Bay, and bolted up to Goodmans (it was 7:15 when I got there, but the sense of urgency was real!). Some random dude from Fasken wished me good luck in the elevators. But rather than ease me, his words made me more nervous—DID I LOOK LIKE A NERVOUS STUDENT THAT NEEDED LUCK??? I TOTALLY WAS, BUT I WAS TRYING REALLY HARD TO GIVE OFF MORE OF A HARVEY SPECTER 2 COOL 4 SKOOL LOOK. Ah well. I arrived at Goodmans.
When I have a panic attack, I completely lose my vision… So there I was, standing in a circle of lawyers when it hit. And I had absolutely no control…
At 8:01, I met my host. Within two minutes, I blurted out the magic words: FIRST CHOICE. I went on to repeat those words two more times over the course of an hour and a half. If there was skill involved in in-firms, I definitely lacked it. On top of already having played my ace, I also used finger guns, made mad jokes, and used an alarming amount of self-deprecating humor—but (to my surprise) people liked me, and I was invited back for Tuesday. Hooray. I just had to get through the rest of the Monday interviews and the evening reception to secure that coin.
Fast forward to 5:30 p.m. I was running from my last interview back to Goodmans. I had to make a great impression at this reception. In my head, I envisioned myself floating ethereally across the room, making connections, friendships, and majestic first impressions. But, alas, this was not my reality. Instead, I entered a small, hot room with about 150 people. They were mostly students, all already engaged in conversation, all looking fly as f***. So I did what any rational student would do: I hunted for a lonely lawyer to latch onto. Once I found them, I stuck by them and hung onto their every word. In fairness, they were mad interesting (but srsly, I should not have been such a keener, like holy). When the lawyer wanted to eat, I ate. When they wanted to drink, I drank. I was basically mirroring them. And then—it happened.
All my life, I’ve suffered from panic attacks. For those who don’t know, a panic attack (for me at least), feels like death. My mind genuinely convinces me that I’m dying, and my body reacts by doing all those things you wouldn’t want to do at a reception: sweating, crying, shaking and, my favorite, going temporarily blind. Yes, you read that right, when I have a panic attack, I completely lose my vision for about twenty minutes. So there I was, standing in a circle of lawyers when it hit. And I had absolutely no control. But I was fortunate.
The lawyers around me instantly recognized that something was wrong, and they took me by the arm into a separate area. They got me water, food, and fresh air. They were nothing short of incredible. And I was, of course, mortified. I blew it. I couldn’t even handle being in a crowded room, how could I be a lawyer at this amazing firm? My Goodmans dreams were over. So, I left the reception, head hanging, and heart hurting.
I went home to my parents and I cried. A lot. I was embarrassed. Embarrassed that my mental health wasn’t as strong as I had thought. Embarrassed that I showed vulnerability in front of my favorite firm. And embarrassed that I said first choice to a firm that would undoubtedly reject me. My parents, not knowing anything about the law or law firms or the intensity of this whole process, laughed with me. Their laughter calmed me enough that I could sleep. So, I did, not looking forward to my next day at Goodmans.
When I awoke, I had emails and voicemails from lawyers at Goodmans who had heard what happened. And guess what? They were checking in on me, making sure I was alright. I was slightly mortified but also very appreciative. And when I went into Goodmans later that day, lawyers were saying they heard a lot about me—all positive things! My host let me know that my mental health issues were okay there. I would be accepted as I was and had nothing to be embarrassed about. And for the first time, I felt like that was true. I could be me, here, at Goodmans.
I’ll spare you the anxiety. On Wednesday at 5:00 p.m., Goodmans called me. I accepted their offer. I had found my fit, and found my people. But this story isn’t just a plug for Goodmans—it’s bigger than that. Yes, Goodmans was great. But, more importantly, the legal field is changing. You no longer have to contort yourself to fit into a tiny little box. To the 26% of students at the faculty who suffer from mental health issues, I want you to know that it’s okay. You may be in the minority, but you are not alone. You are enough, exactly the way you are. The reason you’re in law school is that you deserve to be here, and I hope that when you go job hunting, you find a firm that recognizes your worth. If you ever need an ear, reach out to upper years like myself, Yukimi, or anyone you feel comfortable with. We want to help! We want you to find your Goodmans.
