Taking That Call

Five days after my third child was born, I answered a call from a contact who wanted to know if I had a few minutes to chat with someone relatively early in her legal career seeking some guidance. I frequently took calls like these, but it would have been understandable to say no or even to say not yet – we were at the start of pandemic lockdowns, the baby was days old, I was recovering from major surgery (this one was tougher than the last two), and an energetic toddler and adventurous preschooler needed a fair bit of engagement and my attention.

I vacillated. I said yes. I remembered those early years all too well, when I relocated from the US shortly after obtaining my New York law license and wondered how I would enter a system where I knew no Canadians (other than my partner I followed here) – a system I was not sure was built for someone like me. I drafted lengthy lists, made cold calls and sent emails into the ether after reviewing the websites of law firms and attempting to pin down in detail the firm’s culture. Would this firm be the right fit?

Among the few who maybe said no, overwhelmingly, I remember the people who said yes – who took my call, who accepted my offer for a coffee, who answered my questions, who provided me insights, who reviewed all versions of my cover letter (and edited them!). I remember them all with deep gratitude, because without them, it would be impossible to have gained the knowledge, the contacts, and the confidence to believe I, too, belonged here.

That sense of belonging gets shaken sometimes – it’s hard for it not to – life brings changes.

Some time ago, when I responded affirmatively to attending a conference with a co-founder of this brilliant newsletter, she said “good, I already got you funding”. I was floored. I told her so – and she found it laughable that I would get invited somewhere and have to navigate the details on my own. Never mind that she probably had to navigate those details on her own when she forged that first path. But whatever her experiences, she sought to enable the next person. At the conference, she invited me into her circle. We parted ways before reconnecting again at some point – we are both independent – but she made sure I was tethered as long as needed to gain my grounding.

Amplify. Boost. Connect. Defend. I was reminded of the ABCDs of Sponsorship from Rosalind Chow’s article (ABCDs of Sponsorship). That invitation was deeply meaningful. It was also deeply meaningful, because what is incredible about the founders of this newsletter is that they have shown they are not afraid to take up space, and equally, they are not afraid to give space. When they could solely occupy, they have made deliberate efforts to showcase that there is room for more than one seat at the metaphorical table. By sharing personal stories, professional successes, and celebrating the diverse women of IP, they have started a conversation that challenges the “default sense of just being grateful to be included” (The Value of Diverse Voices in IP). It is uplifting.

I am reminded again, that mentorship and sponsorship has no age or career limit. You are not too young to mentor or sponsor, and you are not too old to be mentored or sponsored. Everyone needs it at different stages – a boost, a like, a connection, a comment. I am grateful for each and every mentor and sponsor I have had along the way who has offered encouragement, made a connection, taken the care to offer private feedback while public praise, helped polish, and offered priceless access.

I keep thinking and learning – what else can I do? As another co-founder alluded to the concept – pay it forward (Random Acts of Kindness). It does not have to come at the cost of burn-out or over-extension. It can be intentional – it can come from remembering we never quite do it all alone. It can be reminding someone they, too, belong here. As for that junior lawyer with whom I spoke during that very challenging time – I checked in with her some time ago. She had good news. It feels good when the news is good.