By Angela McIntire

“YOU? Go to LAW SCHOOL?! But you’re so…..nice.”

This is how an engineer at the consulting firm where I used to work responded as I was trying to break the news to my co-workers that I would soon be leaving Sacramento to pursue a law degree. He and the others were trying to be tactful but were having a difficult time choosing the right words.

I could tell they were reacting awkwardly on account of my laid-back demeanor and their doubts about whether I was choosing a career path that would suit me well.  On top of that, my aversion to being the focus of attention was fairly evident.  Speaking in front of a group was a necessary evil; something I would force myself to do for public outreach purposes during the drafting of environmental documents.

Fast forward two-and-a-half years later and I’d been transported to a Pend Oreille County Superior Court courtroom, in Newport, Washington. I’m a third-year law student intern for the Center for Justice and this is my first argument in a real case. Anxious as I am, I still have the time to wonder how on earth I’ve ended up standing in front of a judge patiently waiting for me to argue why an Order Finding Contempt against the defendants in a landlord/tenant suit should be granted.  It’s a good question and I’m still groping a bit for an answer.

As nerdy as it sounds, what originally drew me to law degree were “words.”  I’ve always enjoyed writing and one of my favorite classes in school has been Legal Research and Writing.  Part of what we’re learning is that practicing the law is painting a picture, retelling the story of what happened in the case at hand.

And, still, there’s that other part, the public speaking part, and during the course of my internship with the Center I’ve been forced confront my biggest fear. There’s not much choice in the matter. I realize that in order to be the effective advocate that I want to be, I cannot rely solely on my writing to get the job done. I have to be able to argue, to advocate out loud as well.

Then it comes. The judge calls my case. Butterflies fill my stomach as Breean introduces me to the lawyer and opposing parties against whom I will be arguing. Even though I’m “suited up” and dressed for the part, I still feel like a little girl borrowing her mother’s clothes for dress-up, and completely out of place. All of this is running through my mind while the judge recounts his understanding of the issue at hand.

Before my first day in court in Pend Oreille County, I’d only had a few opportunities to observe other attorneys working before a judge.  Aside from the legal dramas I occasionally watch with my parents when I visit them (which to this day my mother insists will help me develop litigation skills), my day in traffic court, and a few administrative hearings, I haven’t really spent much time in a courtroom.

So needless to say, I was more than a little nervous as we made the beautiful drive up to Newport through a light snow.  My supervising attorney, Breean Beggs, is with me. Breean is more than encouraging. He helps me organize my thoughts and explains how the procedure would be run. Luckily for me, once we get to the Pend Orielle County Courthouse, I learn the motion I’ve come to argue is slated to be heard last on that day’s docket.

The Pend Orielle County Superior Court is in a small government building. It serves the County’s population of 12,000 in a number of civil and criminal issues and is home to two judges and a Commissioner. It’s also fairly easy to navigate, and this proves a relief for my pseudo irrational fear of arriving late for court on account of getting lost. The courtroom is a small one, seems new, and is trimmed in dark wood. I’m relieved that my first day in court is not in a larger venue.

During the course of the afternoon, counting down the minutes until my turn is at hand, I begin to realize how fortunate I am to be able to listen to the several attorneys whose cases are up before mine. This not only allows me to observe different styles and courtroom etiquette in practice, but affords me some insight into how the judge is handling his court. The judge is an older gentleman who is tough, but fair.

Angela McIntire

Then it comes. The judge calls my case. Butterflies fill my stomach as Breean introduces me to the lawyer and opposing parties against whom I will be arguing. Even though I’m “suited up” and dressed for the part, I still feel like a little girl borrowing her mother’s clothes for dress-up, and completely out of place. All of this is running through my mind while the judge recounts his understanding of the issue at hand.

“Ms. McIntire, what are your thoughts on this issue,” he asks.

As he says this I can feel myself start to flush. His question snaps me out of my daydream and because I’ve been outlining what I am going to say all afternoon, I’m able to explain the reasons and basis for the relief that we seek.

Specifically, what we’re seeking is to get our client’s personal property back. We argue it was wrongfully seized in a landlord-tenant case gone awry. Among the most sentimental items that our client wants returned to her is a Stradivarius Violin, and her late mother’s ashes.

As luck would have it, the respondents bring the violin and the askes to court with them. This plainly supports my argument that they’ve had access to these items all along.

As the Judge rules in our client’s favor, a huge wave of relief rushes over me. I’ve survived!

What I wasn’t quite prepared for was the ensuing argument in the lobby outside the courtroom where hostile words are exchanged and the threat of “vigilante justice” is voiced. Fortunately, Breean and I were able to calm everybody down and keep things from coming to fisticuffs.

Sitting here, today, writing about it, it still seems pretty surreal that I’ve gotten through my first hearing and actually succeeded in getting the relief we were seeking on behalf of our client. Because I’m my harshest critic, I still circle back in my mind and think about something I would have wanted to phrase differently, or to a weakness in my public speaking skills that I can continue to improve upon.

But, honestly, it feels really good to have that first one under my belt. I know I’ve got a long way to go in my budding legal career and I know that as long as I’m mindful and continue to work to improve, it can only get better from here.