'I represent...'

I was admitted to practice as a solicitor 40 years ago this week.

Then as now, you had to advertise the fact that you were applying to get admitted, in case anyone wanted to object. In those days, the cheapest place to publish your ‘Notice previous to admission’ was in the Brisbane afternoon newspaper, the Telegraph. My notice duly appeared and I annexed my copy of it to an affidavit for the Court. I didn’t keep a copy of it for myself.

However, many years later another copy of the notice surfaced when my father was going through some family records. I talked to Dad about it a few days ago. We couldn’t work out whether it had been kept by my grandmother, who passed away in 1999, or my mother, who we lost in 2013.

Neither woman had the opportunities that I have had. My nana grew up in the first world war, at Lota in Brisbane, living on a subsistence basis, gathering oysters from the mangroves, selling what they didn’t eat. She left school at 12, married at 21, and raised 5 children on limited means through the depression, another world war, and some very tough post-war years.

Like most Queenslanders of her generation, my mother left school at 15. Shortly afterwards she lost a brother in the Korean war, and her father to what we would now call the post-traumatic effects of World War 1. She found a good job in the public service but was forced by law to give it up when she married. She raised and educated five kids, owned and grew a small business, and then, finally, when the kids had completed their degrees, finished high school and went to university for herself.

Mum, Dad and my grandparents went to my admission ceremony. We had lunch at the Munich Steakhouse in Albert St, they went home, and I was back at the office by about 3:30.

The fact that someone filed away my notice shows that my admission meant a lot to them, perhaps more than it meant to me that day.

Now, of course, being admitted as a solicitor means a lot to me. It’s been my privilege and duty to serve the Courts, my partners, our clients and our staff.

40 years on, my family’s copy of my notice previous to admission is blu-tacked to my study wall, yellowed by the Queensland sun, a reminder of those who didn’t have the chances I had, or who gave up chances so that I might take mine. I represent them today in everything I do. ??