I was asked to write about my summer at a law firm—specifically for incoming 1Ls who may have anxieties, questions, or simply have no idea what “Big Law” actually is.

I was in that last category.

Unfortunately, user experience may vary, so take mine with a grain of salt. I am enthusiastic, curious, and, at times, awkward. Your cool, calm, and collected nature may produce entirely different results for different people.

So, we’ll start there.

In my experience, the most important assignment of the summer is to get to know the attorneys—and to give them the opportunity to get to know you. There are the obvious coffees and lunches, but for us, one of the best ways to do that was to make ourselves available and offer our willingness to help on projects.

One of the first things I learned was that the way one associate likes a work product is not necessarily the way another associate likes it. Maybe that is common knowledge. It was not common knowledge to me.

For example: “redlining.”

For some attorneys, “redlining” meant tracked changes within the document itself. For others, it meant running a comparison through separate software the firm used—which, funny enough, also produced a “red” line.

Two associates. Same firm. Same group. Different expectations.

The first time I learned this, I felt like such an idiot. I had just developed a little confidence after getting the “lay of the land” on my previous assignment and, in that little confidence, failed to ask enough questions on the next one. I was told to redline.

So I redlined.

And smiled as I hit send.

I am sure I am not alone in sentiment when you receive a ding in your inbox and your stomach drops. A Microsoft Word document is neither a predator nor an imminent threat to my survival, but apparently my nervous system has not received that memo. And an email suggesting a meet up seemed to scream otherwise.

Sure enough, my anxiety was wildly disproportionate to what had actually happened.

I sat down with the associate. He smiled, laughed, and told me he had made the same mistake. Then he explained which partners preferred which methods and even shared a Google Doc of all the things he wished someone had shown him when he started (including various computer tips and tricks).

I’ve heard (several times) that attorneys are just people, and I was starting to see that. 

That experience taught me two things.

First: ask all the questions, including the stupid ones.

Do you want tracked changes or a formal comparison? An email, a memo, or bullets? How much time should I spend on this? Is there a prior example I should follow?

I started realizing that asking a thirty-second question at the beginning of an assignment could save thirty minutes—or three hours—of going in the wrong direction. I didn’t think it would happen to me. It did. A couple times, actually.

And no, this does not mean bombarding an attorney with a new question every six minutes. That’s a billable after all!

Which leads to another thing I was trying to learn quickly, but took the whole summer: Some things just take time.

At the beginning of the summer, I wanted there to be a system. Surely there was a universally correct way to send an email, turn in an assignment, ask for work, follow up, or tell someone I had capacity.

There was not.

One attorney wanted frequent updates. Another preferred the opposite: do the research, and return when I had something to report (hopefully something meaningful).

One gave extremely detailed instructions. Another might give me three sentences and wanted me to explore where I would go with it.

One wanted the answer first and another wanted me to show my work.

None of those approaches were better or worse. They were just different. Something I had to learn with time, and by learning the people I was working with.

Eventually, I started taking literal notes. Pro tip: always have a legal pad in your hand. You never know when you are going to get pulled into something last minute or be told a bite-sized piece of wisdom you do not want to forget.

Some things you can prepare for. You can learn how to research efficiently. You can practice writing clearly. You can familiarize yourself with the firm.

But you cannot prepare for every attorney, every assignment, every unwritten preference, or every moment when everyone else seems to understand a term you have never heard before.

Sometimes, you just have to be new.

Law school trains us to want the correct answer. Then you arrive at work and discover an entirely different category of questions:

How finished should this be?

How much time is reasonable?

Should I volunteer? Usually, yes.

Should I already know this? Usually, no.

Did “thanks” mean thanks, or did it mean please never send me anything like this again? I wish I had a cemented answer for that one but I’m sure it’s the former!

For anyone whose brain is similarly inclined toward overanalysis, I regret to inform you that there is no answer key.

But there are people. Give them a chance to teach you.

Ask your mentor. Ask another summer. Ask the junior associate who was sitting in your chair two years ago and still remembers exactly what it felt like not to know.

Some of the most useful things I learned all summer came not from formal training sessions, but from fellow summers mentioning they were as nervous as I was, and attorneys casually saying, “By the way, here’s something I wish I knew.”

So here is mine:

When you inevitably encounter something no one has taught you yet, resist the urge to turn a five-minute correction into a referendum on whether you belong there.

Sometimes a redline is just a redline.

Even when, apparently, it is not.

The quotes I loved this summer, from some of the very mentors within the firm who settled my ship and raised my sails. 

“Stand on the shoulder of giants.” – attributed to Sir Isaac Newton

“It is impossible for a man to learn what he thinks he already knows.” – Epictetus

And if you’re worried about not getting a return offer:

“I’ve learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.” – Maya Angelou 

So be kind, work hard, don’t take yourself too seriously, ask questions, and have fun. Soak in the fact you got there, and those around you have experienced the same thing. You’re not alone.

Here if you have any (more) questions, I’ve loved the emails!

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Zoe Arvanitis-Dalpe is a rising second-year law student at BC Law. Contact her at arvanit@bc.edu.