Achievement is one of the things that divides humanity from the beasts. It is one of the things that humanity recognizes. We have Halls of Fame, Emmies, Oscars, Nobel and Pulitzer Prizes, and thousands of other formal types of recognition of outstanding achievement. Practically every profession has some system of standards to which members are held in order to obtain designations which signify a high level of training, knowledge, experience, or accomplishment, and some wise person in years past came up with the brilliant idea of tacking initials onto the end of names as the perfect demonstration of such designation. All kinds of initials are floating around out there to test our imagination every day, such as Ph.D, M.D., D.V.M., O.D., PLS, D.O., A.I.A., J.D., A.S.C., R.Ph., MSW, D.C., N.P., CLU, R.N., D.D., L.P.C., D.P.M., C.P.O., M.A., and FACFP. It was inevitable that the paralegal profession would devise its own set of initials to join the prestigious parade. But those initials, like all the others, must denote high standards of professionalism and excellence.
When I first began working as a legal assistant, I had no affiliation with a local, state, or national organization of legal assistants. I just went about my work in a sole practitioner's office and had very little contact with legal assistants in other law offices. Later when I began working in a moderate-sized firm, I met legal assistants in other firms and learned about the opportunities available to our profession. After being invited for a year or so to visit meetings of Texas Panhandle Association of Legal Assistants, our local association, I finally joined. I had noticed "CLA" after the names of legal assistants on correspondence over the years, and I was impressed by it. I knew that it was a nationally recognized certification that carried significance in every state. The CLA certification program was an established program whose designees had distinguished themselves through performance over a period of time. It was a designation with which attorneys were familiar and for which attorneys had respect. But, for some reason, I was sure that earning the right to use it with my name would be more than I could accomplish. After all, I was a gal who had come up through the ranks in a law office, learning most of what I knew on the job. My experience had been primarily with litigation, and I had heard that the CLA exam covered a wide range of subjects, some with which I had very little contact. That made my admiration for the designation even greater and my hope of achieving it lower.
In late 1993, TPALA held a CLA review course, and I decided to attend. I had purchased the CLA Review Manual, and it was rather intimidating. I could not see how I could hope to learn all of the information in it any time soon. Years before, I had been a very thorough, precise student who left nothing to guesswork. I had always aimed for and achieved A's. How could I adequately learn this entire manual, and more, while working full time and raising a family? During the course, we received a big notebook full of information, and each speaker made his/her subject so interesting. The classes were small enough that we could ask many questions and have some lively discussions. The more I heard, the more optimistic I became. The review course was a great success, and I was inspired. I decided that I would aim toward taking the CLA exam in December 1994. I would have 11 months to prepare on a consistent, but convenient, basis. It should pose no great disruption in my normal routine.
The first thing I needed was a plan. I knew if I just went at it haphazardly, I would not stick to it, much less actually succeed in getting prepared. Everyone I talked to said that if I learned the review manual from front to back, I could pass the exam. The first thing I did was to decide what four areas of substantive law to be tested on. I chose Litigation, Bankruptcy, Business Organizations, and Criminal law. Those were the areas in which I already had some experience or in which I anticipated working in the future. Then I decided to study alone two nights a week. Because substantive law sounded far more interesting and difficult than communications, human relations, or ethics, I decided to study it first.
Committing to study two nights a week did not seem like very much when I was planning, but it proved to be much more difficult than I expected. Before then, it had always seemed that my 15-year-old daughter could not have cared less what I did on week nights as long as I did not disturb her; there never seemed to be much of real interest to me on television; I had no other real commitments or activities other than church on Sundays and Wednesdays. Finding two nights out of the remaining five should be a snap. At first, the idea was rather novel and fun. Mom was "studying and could not be disturbed." I even looked forward to getting supper out of the way and retreating into my little home office where I had books and note pads spread out. But after three or four weeks, reality began to set in. My daughter, my husband, and my dogs just could not get along an entire evening without me. They would "pop in" for a minute to ask or say something or get their ears scratched, and then I could get back to the books. Suddenly, good movies and mini-series began to pop up on television; my daughter needed my help for a really important school project; and the church choir began rehearsals for a huge Easter pageant, and I was asked to make the big banner to be lowered from the ceiling during the finale. In addition, my married son and his wife moved back to town and needed to stay with us until they found a house, and shortly thereafter, my husband found a place on some acreage outside of town, and we decided to sell our home in the city and move to the country. Of course, I could handle all of it. After all, I had three unclaimed nights a week! Before long, I was looking forward to going to work each day so I could rest. On the nights when I did manage to study, the time between 7 p.m. and 10 p.m. grew longer and longer, and many times I fought to stay awake. Some weeks were worse than others, but I stuck to it.
All of a sudden, it was July, and half of the year was gone. I had studied four areas of substantive law and general law, and had made flash cards for the Latin and legal terms in the manual. I realized that the general law and four substantive law sections comprised only one section for purposes of grading, and I had six sections left to learn in five months. At the rate of progress I had been making, I could expect to be prepared for the exam in about three more years! It was time to reassess my plan. I tried to console myself with the adage that "The difficult we do immediately; the impossible takes a little longer," but it did not really help. It seemed inescapable that I would have to totally commit to achieving this goal or forget about it. Too many people knew about my plans to take the exam in December to bow out unnoticed. So I decided to go for it with a determined and undaunted spirit, with passion and perseverance, or, as is heard more often in these parts, whole hog! I announced to my friends that I had committed to a task that would have priority in my life until December. I asked my family to allow me this time and to commit to this goal with me because I could not succeed without their cooperation. And I informed my husband that if we had to move before December, he would just have to do it alone. They all agreed, and we became a team working toward the same end. Then I did the smartest thing of all: I called a fellow member of TPALA, Kelly Cavin, and asked her if she would tutor me through to the exam. To my amazement and delight, she said, "Yes." The team was complete.
Weekly, I would help my husband and daughter plan meals which they could handle on their own. My husband stepped in and helped my daughter with her school work, and the two of them handled almost all of the housework. I took my notes to work with me and studied during lunch every day. My supervising attorney volunteered to discuss litigation and legal terminology with me. Another attorney in our firm volunteered to discuss bankruptcy with me, and yet another volunteered to work with me on legal research. Kelly and I devised a study schedule that would allow us time to concentrate on each section as well as to review during the last several weeks before the exam. I registered for NALA's CLA Short Course in Houston for the first week of November. I went to Kelly's house four nights a week and four hours on Saturdays for two months. We sat at her dining room table and spread our things out all around us. She had a basket full of miniature packages of Sweet Tarts, which were a necessary part of the routine. We discussed every paragraph in that review manual and every practical application we could think of and ate Sweet Tarts. You would be surprised how many different shapes you can fold up those little empty packages into! Kelly made just the kind of teacher I needed because she did not concentrate on the five ways to do this or the eight things necessary for that. She concentrated on concepts and applications of those concepts. She let me ask why and then think out loud to work my way around to the answer. If she did not know the answer, she would find it before the next session. I think most of her firm and mine were involved in some way in my preparation. I had charts and rules printed and plastered all over the walls of my office. I dictated the definitions of all the Latin terms onto tape and played the tape while driving to and from work, while going to sleep at night, while putting on makeup in the mornings, and even while getting my fingernails done. My manicurist still blurts out, "Res judicata" from time to time. And I prayed a lot.
The review course was really icing on the cake. Having had all the study behind me, the review course was just that-review. It put some things into a new light or just helped to hammer the information a little deeper into my mind. Virginia Koerselman's session on Judgment and Analytical Ability was excellent. She made the mechanics and the reasoning for writing a memorandum so simple that I was just skipping when I came out of that class.
I decided to take vacation the week of the test, which was on Friday and Saturday. I reviewed during the days and worked with Kelly at night. I had to travel to Lubbock to take the test at Texas Tech University. I drove down on Thursday afternoon and checked into the motel. I had a light dinner, watched television a little, and went to bed early. I knew that if I did not know the information by then, trying to cram it all in on the last night would not help.
I was surprised when I realized that I was not unusually nervous as I sat down in my seat and arranged my pencils on the desk in front of me. The woman administering the test allowed me to keep Sweet Tarts with me, and I felt right at home. During the next two days, I moved through each test section with confidence. I was so grateful for the way Kelly and I had studied together; being able to use rules and concepts in practical applications was so valuable. I kept thinking that I must be terribly dumb not to be panicking, but the truth was that I felt no panic. I took most of the time allotted for each section and tried not to spend a disproportionate amount of time on any one question. More than once, I discovered that something in subsequent questions provided the needed clue for answering an earlier question I had skipped. When I mentioned something to another woman taking the test about how quickly she was finishing each section, she said that it did not take very long to say "Eeny, meeney, miney, mo." When I asked her what she meant, she said that this was the hardest test she had ever seen, and she did not know half of the answers. That was when it began to dawn on me that maybe I really was well prepared.
When the letter from NALA appeared in my box at the office, I knew what it was. I had been waiting anxiously for it. As I walked back to my office to open the letter in private, my outward appearance gave no indication of my racing heart or shaking hands. Even as I opened the envelope, I failed to notice that it was addressed to "Laina Bartlow, CLA." When my eyes fell on the word "Congratulations!," I read no further. Surely it would not say "congratulations" if I had not passed. I jumped up and hopped all around my office. Football players in the end zone after a really spectacular touchdown have nothing on me. I did every kind of dance and gyration I could think of. Then I ran down the hall to the office of another CLA and waved my letter in front of her face as I tried to say something intelligible. Luckily she could read my body language and jumped up to give me a big congratulatory hug. Then I got on the telephone and called everyone I could think of who might have the remotest interest in my success. It was one of the most delightful highs I have ever experienced. The next thing I did was to sit down at my computer and edit the macro which enters my name at the end of a letter. I added "CLA" to my name. As I sat there and looked at those beautiful initials on the computer screen, the tears trickled down my cheeks, and I was filled with a tremendous feeling of relief, pride, and gratitude. It was hard work; it was scary; it was at times frustrating; it was a challenge; it was worth it!