I was recently invited back to Georgetown Law to participate in a panel for incoming LL.M. students. Like every responsible event right now, this panel was held virtually.
The theme was how LL.M. students can best navigate this (not so new) virtual environment for job-hunting purposes.
I was recently among 17 attorneys from my law firm submitted for high honors from the Capital Pro Bono Honor Roll. This list recognizes attorneys who contributed more than 100 hours of free legal work to low-income individuals in 2019. I also became a member of the Texas Pro Bono College related to the same service.
I recently had the chance to return to Georgetown Law to help with mock interviews. I get invited back to campus a few times a year either to speak on alumni panels or for networking receptions. It is always refreshing to visit campus and meet the next batch of Georgetown tax lawyers right before they start their careers.
It took almost exactly a full year to waive into the District of Columbia bar. I knew what to expect however because almost all of the associate attorneys on my floor have some administrative horror story about the D.C. Committee on Admissions. I was warned that my application would languish if I didn’t constantly pester the Committee (and they were right.)
Waiving into the District of Columbia Bar should be a simple process because I am already licensed in Texas. But the process was surprisingly complicated and seemed to involve fees every step of the way. The Committee wanted school transcripts, my test scores, and a certificate of good standing from the Texas Supreme Court.
Oh, and $418.
I started 2018 feeling ridiculous — I just finished the first semester of my Georgetown tax LL.M. program but did not have any grades yet. I was unsure if I would fail my classes or ever get a decent job. Maybe this Washington D.C. adventure was a mistake.
Things quickly got better. Instead of failing, my grades were actually strong. Job offers came in, spring semester’s grades were even better than the fall, and I started working immediately after graduation.
I moved from Pentagon City to Chinatown, and got rid of my car. Everything fell into place and I became a proper Washingtonian.
It’s LL.M. orientation week. Last year, I was in the audience listening to alumni give study and job search advice. This year, I am on the same stage talking to a new crop of students.
I don’t get through all of my rehearsed talking-points, but I do manage to avoid saying anything stupid or outrageous. I repeatedly cautioned the students that securing a job offer from an externship is completely dumb luck on my part. But I probably sound like a lottery winner explaining that buying Powerball tickets is foolish.
My best piece of advice is: “Remember that massive book of information that the career office gave you? Actually read that and follow the instructions.”
If just one student uses that advice, then the panel was worth it.
There was a scene on a recent episode of RuPaul’s Drag Race where one of the contestants (Kameron Michaels) does extremely well in the challenge, but still prepares for the elimination lip sync just in case she is in the bottom 2 that week.
The other contestants scold Kameron for not enjoying her success, but Kameron says that she’s not the type to prematurely celebrate achievements.
While the people around me celebrated finishing tests and reaching milestones, I preoccupied myself with contingency plans.
Even when I did accomplish goals, I still ran through worst-case scenarios and planned for what would come next. Passed the bar – What if I failed the MPRE? Got a job offer – What if it’s rescinded? Finished finals – What if I failed Partnership Taxation?
It’s shortly after 3 a.m. and I’m walking across D.C. in a black suit carrying two narrow duffle bags.
I am prepared to 1) get mugged, or 2) explain to a police officer that I’m not a hitman, but rather a tax lawyer headed to the Supreme Court.
The duffle bags contain branded folded chairs from my law firm. I am on my way to a hotel to meet an associate lawyer who flew in from one of our other offices.
I make it to the hotel without getting mugged or stopped by a cop.
The associate is outside of the hotel with a woman from a competing law firm in New York. Introductions are made and we then have the most ridiculous time getting a cab – the three taxis in front of the hotel are not interested in driving us only 2 miles to court. They would rather wait for a more lucrative fare to a far flung airport.
It’s about 4 a.m. and there are already dozens of people camped out in line.
Professional line-standers in front of the Supreme Court.
The lines in front of the Supreme Court before the Wayfair v. South Dakota oral arguments.
The case that attracted this odd mix of tax lawyers, tourists, and professional line-standers is South Dakota v. Wayfair. This is the first major state and local tax (SALT) case to reach the Supreme Court in about 25 years and my SALT professors have been buzzing about the case ever since my first week at Georgetown’s tax LL.M. program.
In August, I never imagined that I would actually be present at such an important Supreme Court oral argument. (The timing at the end of the semester is terrible.) And yet here I am, in the middle of the night among new coworkers.
The year has gone by quickly partly because of my workload and the insane amount of things to do in Washington D.C.
My weekdays are spent at school, the office, and various coffee shops around town. The weekends are mostly spent skipping between D.C. and Virginia, with lots of dog park time.
Spring has also arrived (after a brief snow storm) so the city is full of cherry blossoms and tourists again. This is a fabulous way to end the school year.
Cherry Blossoms at night in Arlington, VA.
Pigeons swarming the National Mall at Washington D.C.
I am entering the last month of my LL.M. program at Georgetown — polishing final term papers, prepping for exams, and even starting part-time at my post-graduation job.
I arrived at school early today to record a podcast with the Georgetown’s career center about our awesome externship program. After the podcast recording session I went to the library to prep for tonight’s class, but decided to check my email before studying.
Every year, Georgetown and NYU’s LL.M. programs jointly host the “Tax Interview Program” (TIP) — a massive speed-interviewing event where law and accounting firms interview pre-selected candidates.
The bulk of my TIP interview invitations were from Dallas and Houston, so I had a strong feeling that I would be returning to the Texas heat in May.
But then the week before TIP, I unexpectedly received not one, but two (!!) offers in Washington D.C. — and I took one.
I went to law school immediately after graduating college, so I did not have to make the same jarring adjustments as many of my older peers. Sure, law school is much different than undergrad, but I was used to being a student.
After going back for my LL.M., I’ve experienced many of the strange adjustments that my older law school classmates complained about, like unusual class times, the lack of a real paycheck, and becoming a hermit for finals.
The second semester of my Georgetown tax LL.M. program is marked by a lot of procedural and practical courses. That’s one of the best things about learning from adjunct professors — they tell you how things work in practice and what traps they see other lawyers falling for.
Networking is a skill that I’m constantly trying to become less awkward at, so I made a point of looking-up the chart after class. (Also, if one of the leading SALT practitioners in the country tells you to read something, you do it.)
After slogging my way through winter break, starting the semester feels like reaching the end of one of those airport moving walkways before you’re ready.
My classmates and I are beginning the semester in a distracted state — most of us are already in first-and-second round interviews for after-graduation jobs. While this is a wonderful position for us to be in, it is very time-consuming to prep for interviews (and fret about callbacks.)
My winter break ended with a cold snap and the dogs had two very different reactions.
Ingrid, the labradoodle, thinks that we are in a winter wonderland. The cold doesn’t bother Ingrid and she is happy to spend her time in the dog park even with a ridiculous wind chill.
I have used Microsoft OneNote ever since the program came pre-installed on my crappy law school laptop 10 years ago.
OneNote is easily my favorite note-taking app and I assumed that all law students of a certain age used it. So it was to my horror this past semester when very few of my Georgetown LL.M. classmates even knew what OneNote was!
Here’s a very brief look at OneNote and why every law student and writer needs it.
OneNote is a free note-taking application from Microsoft. You can download OneNote to run as a desktop application or access it at OneNote.com.
This program is great for note-taking and long-term projects involving multiple documents. I also use OneNote to draft blogs. However, for print-ready essays, I still port everything over to Microsoft Word.
OneNote differs from Microsoft Word in several ways:
Here’s how you can get the most out of OneNote in law school (or any academic program.)
Finals ended about two weeks ago. I wish that I could report that my post-finals life has been full of vigorous exercise, rejuvenating relaxation, and quiet progress on my tax articles – but that is not how things have worked out so far.
My life is highly structured during the semester: Between classes, research obligations and my externship, my schedule is packed from 6:00 a.m. to 10 p.m. most weekdays. Weekends are for long dog walks, brunch, and sightseeing in Washington D.C. (Oh, and more studying.)
One of the strangest things about taking the Texas bar exam this summer was that we couldn’t have any liquid whatsoever in the exam room. This was fine for the first half-day, but felt like a strangely cruel rule during the following 8-hour days of the exam.
No coffee?
Not even water?
Wasn’t this bad enough?
On the second day of the exam, a test-taker sitting next to me explained the lore around the “no beverages” rule: apparently one year someone spilled a drink on their neighbor’s computer, frying it, and condemning that student to hand-writing the rest of the exam. I was mortified but quickly forgot about that anecdote when we restarted the test.
Ten years ago I was in Miami, applying to the University of Minnesota Law School. I would have had a hard time believing that a decade later, I would be getting sworn in as a Texas attorney in Washington D.C.
I was fortunate enough to have a few “Friendsgiving” offers, but I spent the break tied to my computer so I could finish prepping for finals.
They warned us during orientation that the LL.M. program goes really quick — and they were right. My externship and classes have already ended and finals start Tuesday.