Originally posted on 4/28/2020 (reformatted).

You take the practical skills courses.  You undergo two or more trials in front of multiple sitting judges.  You have the evidentiary rules pounded into your head . . . . “an out of court statement offered for the truth of the matter asserted.”  You undergo internships, externships, and whatever else there may be.  You’re instructed to “know your judge,” lectured on courtroom technology, and are even taught acting skills. 

You can learn about trials as much as you would like, but nothing prepares you for a trial in which you and your bar number are forever etched into the unforgiving record.  This is especially true if you work at a small firm in which the process for any training is generally “baptism by fire.”  “Second chair” is not a term that is known to exist within the vernacular of such firms.  As the date for jury selection draws nearer, anYour y soon-to-be trial attorney will start to become nervous—those nerves, however, go hand-in-hand with eye-widening excitement.  Whether the case is a “losing one,” one that can go “either way,” or a “clear winner,” the professional^[1] rush that is felt seeks to rival only moments such as graduation or passing the bar exam. 

Despite valiant attempts of instructors to teach about the process of trial, what the budding attorney is still never taught is how to evaluate.  As a previous marketing student, one thing that I immediately noticed in the legal field is that many—whether individuals or organizations—don’t take time to sit down and evaluate past occurrences.  While it may be a matter of course in the business world, it’s not yet a formed habit in the legal world.  Of course, we learn any lessons that were meant to be had, and we try to implement what we learned—or at least we think we do—but what do we miss by not setting aside a specific time to evaluate and conduct explicit analyses?

I would encourage every single young attorney who has the opportunity to conduct a trial in any capacity to take some time soon afterwards to at least ask and answer the following questions about your experience:

• What did I learn from the judge? If I had to go to trial in front of him or her again, what would I change?  What would I keep the same?
• What did I learn from trial that should affect how me or my firm handle cases during pre-litigation? Do I need to revaluate my discovery practices?  My motion practices? 
• What did I find out about how I present myself to the (1) jury, (2) other attorneys on the case, (3) the clients, (4) the judge, and (5) the judge’s staff?
• How was my organization? Can I organize my documents or files differently—both during trial and beforehand?
• How was my record? Can I work to make a better one next time?  If the case is appealed, did I cover all my bases?
• What did I learn from the other attorneys on the case? Can I pick up any good skills?
• How can I better prepare next time?

After you take some time to breathe, relax, and celebrate, sit down and conduct your review.  At the very least, ask yourself the questions that were just listed above.  Add some more to the list.  Don’t be shy.  Capitalize on your fresh memory while you have the chance.  Your future self might just be thankful that you did. 

Keep learning, stay excited, and always be ready to pivot.  

^[1] Why the conditioning “professional”?  From this humble attorney’s perspective and experience from which an opinion can be formed, there are other moments—especially for those of us who do not care for the stationary life—that create inexplicable feelings on a whole different level.  Climbing/hiking mountains, soaring/jumping through the sky, and partaking in endurance sports are just some examples. 

Silvia Mansoor

Koussan Hamood PLC

Detroit, MI

silviamansoor.com