Law According To Kings... My Story From Student To Soon-To-Be Solicitor

What I think drove me to the law is the idea that I can help people. I grew up watching people on TV be scared and alone, and then a lawyer would turn up and fight for them. I wanted to be that lawyer - I wanted to help people. It sounds dumb, but honestly the idea of becoming a lawyer first came into my head when I watched Ally McBeal. Seeing someone be funny and honest and flawed while being able to put on that suit, head into the courtroom, and kick some ass. I told the partner that at my first vacation scheme interview for a corporate law firm, and he laughed and said that maybe there will be less dancing in the toilets in their office than there is in Ally McBeal. I smiled back, and replied there would be less dancing until I arrived. 

The law can be an immensely powerful thing - of course, I'm biased. We all see the world through the lenses we choose, but it is undeniable the impact that the law and lawyers have had on the world. We might not have started the journeys, but some of the biggest leaps in civil rights - school desegregation, marriage and civil partnership equality, and dozens in the European Court of Human Rights - have been made by lawyers fighting for their clients, and often the culmination of a decades- or centuries-long fight by activists, politicians, and campaigners is coming before a judge or judges to decide the fate of the struggle. 

I started law school closeted and able-bodied, and graduated openly queer and proudly disabled. My first months of studying the law were characterised mostly by self-doubt and imposter syndrome, and an unrelenting belief that I wasn't smart enough to be where I was. Honestly, I knew that I loved the law, and genuinely enjoyed what I was studying, but I didn't know if I was any good at it, and, of course, every law student has to be the best. 

I wouldn't be surprised if your early law career is similarly plagued by these annoying and untrue thoughts, and I haven't really met many people who have begun with utmost confidence, but there are a number of things that can help you. I had an amazing group of friends, both from university and from school, who were just as overwhelmed as I was. We could complain about it together, and commiserate the fact that we had no idea what was going on half the time. I spent the entire first year not understanding a sentence of EU law, until it all fell into place a week before my exam. I also had a personal tutor - one of my law professors in a pastoral support role - who took the time to get to know me, listen to my concerns, reassure me, and guide me through a first year that was going to be a lot more tumultuous than I thought possible. 

Six months into my first year of law school, I developed a disability that left me unable to walk. I spent a lot of nights in hospital, and the one thing that kept me sane and focussed was the fact I had to study for my end-of-year exams. The nurses were kind enough to give me resources to make notes and flashcards and study by the light of the little lamp by my bed, and whenever I felt overwhelmed with anxiety or fear (I also hate hospitals and needles), I would turn to my textbooks and learn more about vitiating elements in a contract, or the process of judicial review. When I finally, after a month of hospital appointments, medical tests, and specialist referrals, asked my personal tutor for help, he dropped everything and guided me through the unnecessarily complex process of delaying my exams, so I had adequate time to prepare and study in a proper environment - not while I had to worry about waking up the other patients on the ward with my light and laptop. 

Honestly, my first year results were a big disappointment. Despite my personal tutor's help and advocacy, I found I wasn't able to delay two of my exams as I had expected, and so while I felt lucky to be alive, I felt I had let down the one thing that hadn't let me down. That's when I started this blog - I wanted more help with legal research and writing, and thought a blog (read only by my parents) would do the trick. 

Also in first year, before I was living with a disability, I took time to explore London - going on walking tours, visiting museums and galleries, going to clubs and bars with my friends (although I still haven't been to my Student Union), and taking part in university societies, like mooting competitions (in which I placed in the semi-finals of all the ones I did). But second year was going to be a lot more stressful. 

Firstly, I was studying subjects that were twice as complex: trusts, property, and tort, with my only saving grace being my elective module of US constitutional law. Selecting my elective was easy for me - I have been interested in the American constitution since I was 14, and as soon as my university offered it, I took it. Plus, I needed something to take my mind off all the complexities and intricacies of my other modules! 

In second year, I learned more about my disability - as well as being diagnosed with a lifelong chronic condition on the side. I learned how to navigate the bureaucracy of being a disabled student, from applying for additional government help to meeting with my university's amazing disability advisor (who took my side in and empathised with everything I told her). I started physiotherapy, though this was to be soon interrupted by the pandemic, and made it my mission to learn to walk again. 

Second year also saw me apply for the prestigious international Jessup Moot Competition - from which I was rejected - and for the brand new Global Media Freedom Initiative, led by Lord Neuberger and Amal Clooney - for which I was accepted. Though the rejection stung, this new opportunity was amazing. I got to work alongside some of the best law students at my university, under the supervision and guidance of two of the best professors I have ever met, on issues that mattered to me. I led the research into espionage law in the UK, wrote reports and case studies on misinformation, disinformation and defamation in jurisdictions around the world, and discussed these topics with everyone from Amal Clooney herself (who is every bit as expert as she appears) to former UN Special Rapporteur on Freedom of Expression David Kaye, to renowned journalist and 2018 TIME Person of the Year Maria Ressa. Finally, I was doing something that mattered - something that could change the world. 

When the pandemic hit, I found myself alone in London, on crutches, and incredibly lonely. I got into the habit of making pancakes every morning (after having had to go to Tesco at 5am to buy flour as soon as it opened) while listening to My Dad Wrote A Porno, and honestly I put on quite a bit of weight, but at least I stayed sane. Studying definitely took a back seat, and I didn't turn up to the few classes that had been moved online for the rest of the semester as I took time to adapt to my new situation. I have a habit of looking back on things and kicking myself - this decision I don't regret at all. I watched too many of my neighbours be taken to hospital during the first wave of COVID-19, struggled with not seeing my friends and family, and spent my days cooped up in a tiny student house in London. Life was honestly really hard. 

My second year results were also quite disappointing, but as with first year, at least I had something external to blame! I put a lot more effort in second year, though - I prepared fully for all my classes, did all the reading, and attended all the lectures, but in the end, the pandemic won out, and my results still didn't reflect the best of my ability.

Third year was entirely online - I still haven't been to my university campus since March 2020 - but my professors did an excellent job in making it feel as normal as possible. Some classes, as with every course, were honestly a waste of time, and so I put them on mute while I did my own work myself, but the majority I participated as fully as possible in. Jurisprudence was the only compulsory module in third year, and for my electives I chose Public International Law, Advanced Constitutional Law, and Anti-Discrimination Law. I discovered my love for constitutional law in first year with my amazing professor and personal tutor - with whom I still keep in touch - and third year was my opportunity to explore this area as much as possible. Though it took me planning almost 100 essays to finally understand jurisprudence, and rewatching The Good Place to understand moral philosophy (my optional jurisprudence module for the second semester - thank you, Chidi), I genuinely loved the rest of my classes. 

Third year was also the time when I became the most comfortable with who I am. My two-year relationship ended, giving me an opportunity to explore and appreciate my identity without an often-unhealthy relationship defining it, as well as continuing with my physiotherapy and finally gaining back the ability to walk without crutches. The doctors said it would take me five years, but I managed it in two. Though I still have my immune disorder, chronic pain and fatigue, and a number of other residual effects from that experience, I am so much stronger than I ever would have been without it. A lot of people have called me inspirational - but I call them out on this. If you were told you could walk again, choosing not to isn't an option. I did what I had to do. What they see as inspirational is 'overcoming' a disability, and I spent a lot of time researching and reading to realise that a disability (or 'diffability', as the amazing Olly Pike says) isn't something to overcome. I can't overcome chronic conditions, or my own immune system. What I can overcome is society's barriers to the inclusion of people with disabilities. That's the problem - not the fact I learned how to walk again, but the fact that we live in a society where walking is the only option. 

University expands your mind far beyond the content of your course. I learned about the Equality Act and the rule of law, and yes, I can argue with my phone company over my contract, but I have learned so much more than that. I was taught about the struggles we all face, the struggles my communities face, and the struggles I will never face. From growing up in the English countryside, I learned about things I had never seen before: racism, disabilities, poverty. I learned from my friends who grew up completely differently to me, and I learned from living in one of the most diverse cities in the world. I learned who I was, what the law is, and how to use them both to change things for the better. 

In that spirit, I wrote my dissertation for Advanced Constitutional Law on the very thing that inspired me to become a lawyer: fighting not for yourself, but for others. When I was a kid, I just knew that Ally McBeal could turn up and save the day, but after three long years of law school, from which I graduated with a high 2:1 and 68% average, I learned that we can do that, too. 

My dissertation took a look at something called the doctrine of standing (or locus standi, if you're Latin), which means that you can only sue the government over something that harms you. Say you live in a council house and the walls are covered with mould but the council won't move you, you're allowed to go to court and ask a judge to change their minds. Say you live next to a factory that pollutes toxic gases into your air or toxic chemicals into your water, you can sue the government to take action against that if they won't do it on their own. Or say you find you can't get the bus from your home to your job because your city doesn't have accessible public transport, you can sue to change that.

I like that, but it's not fair. You're asking someone with mould-covered walls, someone with diseases caused by polluted air and water, someone who can't earn a living, to hire a lawyer, and launch lengthy and costly legal proceedings against the government. The courts in the UK can't force the government to allocate more funds to legal aid, so in effect, these people are barred from accessing the justice system. They can't afford it, and the government has cut legal aid below the bones. What the courts can do, however, is adopt public interest standing, and let someone else make that fight for you. 

If you live in a council flat with mouldy walls, or next to a polluting factory, or in an inaccessible area, you can sue, but under public interest standing, so would your cousin, or your mother, or your friend. If you lived in London, someone from Birmingham could sue. Why? Because it's in the public interest that these things get changed. It benefits us all if people have good homes, or a clean environment, or can get to work by themselves. It benefits us all because we live in a society that promotes tolerance and diversity and inclusion and community, and at the minute the law isn't letting us help each other out. 

My dissertation is one small idea that can help make the world a better place, by taking the burden off the shoulders of those who already have too little, and letting us all take it on. That's what the law is about, to me, and, because it is me, I sprinkled in a little of Call Me By Your Name, too. 

I graduated from law school - a long-time dream of mine - in June 2021. I graduated queer, and disabled, and happy, and I started studying the Legal Practice Course in July, so I can finish up my studies and start work as a trainee solicitor with that same law firm that said there wasn't much dancing in the toilets (...yet). They took a chance on me, like so many others have, because they knew I didn't have the best grades or the most experience, but I do have the determination, the optimism and the courage that makes a great lawyer. 

Though applications were hard, and I started second year with 0 legal work experience, I applied to around 30 chambers and 15 law firms, and completed 4 mini pupillages in a range of sectors, and 1 vacation scheme at the firm which eventually offered me a training contract. I used to think I wanted to be a barrister, and maybe I still do, but once I found my law firm, I knew I wanted to work there. What mattered to me in deciding where to submit applications was two things: the firm's culture, and the opportunity to practice law that I loved. My firm offered both: an inclusive, forward-thinking, liberal and progressive environment, and a fast-growing public, administrative and regulatory team that I was (and still am!) eager to join. The people at the firm - including my amazing vac scheme buddy and now good friend - made the experience a lot less stressful than it could've been.

No one does anything alone - especially law school - and building a community and a network is not only important for your career as a lawyer, but for learning new things, changing hearts and minds, and building a better future. Season 2 of Law According To A King sees the launch of our new project: Law According To Kings, where young people from around the world write about the things they care about. Meeting these incredible students and working with them on producing articles and essays for this blog has been an amazing experience for me (and hopefully for them!) and I cannot wait to share with you their work and their voices.

I came to law school believing I had to be self-sufficient and the very best. I prized intelligence above everything, because that is all that I thought I was good at. I left law school relying on my friends and family more than ever, valuing bravery and perseverance more than anything, and being happy with who I am and what I want to be. 

Thank you for reading this post, and thank you for supporting Law According To A King. 

More importantly, thank you for taking a chance on me. I can't wait to see you all become kick-ass lawyers.

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