Serving as president of the Tennessee Bar Association (TBA) is the honor of my life. The only other time that I have felt this joy was in 1993 when I passed the Tennessee Bar Examination and entered this profession. Last month, I was standing in the offices of the TBA, looking at the plaque on the wall of the past presidents, and I couldn’t believe that I was soon to be on that list. Like looking for my name on the list of those who successfully passed the bar, it did not seem possible that my name would be included. I am still convinced there was a clerical error, and I didn’t pass the bar in 1993.

I am the most unlikely president. I was born south of Buffalo, New York, in an area so rural you would have to go to the far counties of East Tennessee to understand how remote the location was and still is. I had never met a lawyer, and I had never seen a courthouse. In high school, my family moved me to Chicago’s north shore. There were more people in the halls of my high school than in my hometown. Uprooted after 15 years, I felt alone. After less than a year, I was moved again, this time to a small college town in Texas where everyone had known each other since kindergarten. At my 30 year high school reunion, I was still known as the “new girl.” The point of all this is that until I became a lawyer, I never felt I belonged. I was always on the outside looking in.

Why am I telling you all of this? It is because once I became a lawyer, I found my home. I remember the words of incoming President Tasha Blakney in 2022 when she described us as her “wolf pack.” At this year’s swearing-in ceremony for new lawyers in Nashville, I welcomed those new lawyers to the bar and told them that, in the words of country singer Rodney Atkins, these new admittees were now “my people.” Our connection is that we are lawyers. And you are my people. We aren’t perfect, but we have an unbreakable bond. For that, I am more thankful than you will ever know.

This year, the Tennessee Bar Association will focus on fostering engagement for all lawyers. I hope that everyone finds a home here. If you are already active in the TBA, serving on a committee or elsewhere, I am asking you to get one more person involved with your initiative. I am not asking you to step down; I am asking you to scoot over and make room for a new face. Actively recruit the next leader for this organization. I will try to do the same this year.

The TBA is an organization that has a place for everyone, regardless of how you vote, who your parents were, what kind of practice you have or how long you have been practicing law. The purpose of the Tennessee Bar Association is to foster legal education; maintain the honor, dignity and well-being of the members of the legal profession; enhance the performance of the legal profession; cultivate professional ethics and fellowship among its members; and promote responsible relationships between the legal profession and the public. These aren’t my words. This is the purpose as outlined in our bylaws. These principles will guide every decision at the Tennessee Bar Association.

Looking ahead,  I have a particular passion for mentoring and technology. As technology and AI rapidly change our practice, lawyers must learn how to use this technology safely and adapt to change. I know some people who still don’t own laptops. I will work closely with our technology committees to develop the best educational opportunities to help lawyers use and understand technology. There are simple tools available that can make your practice easier and courtroom presentations more engaging. I have already started planning for next year’s convention, where the programming will be focused on technology for lawyers.

The TBA Leadership Law initiative, more commonly known as TBALL, started and co-chaired by Gail Ashworth and Larry Wilks in 2004, continues to be one of the premier programs of this Association. I had the pleasure of speaking to the TBALL class this year at their retreat in Nashville in a bedazzled t-shirt created by Tanja Trezise, staff TBALL co-coordinator. Participating in the second 2005 class was one of my more formative experiences with the Tennessee Bar Association. That class produced four TBA presidents, three judges and dozens of board members, including currently active board members Matt Evans, Ben Jones and Chris Varner. My firm’s managing partner, Lisa Cole, was also in that class. Sadly, it also included the late Nick McCall. If you are asked to speak at this program, nominate a lawyer or otherwise support this program, please step up. This program is vital to the success of this organization. For those in the current class, please know the bonds you formed this year will last your entire career.

I hope to engage both retired and new graduates this year, and we will develop exceptional opportunities for these lawyers. I have a very personal request: if you know someone or if you are someone who did not pass the bar exam the first time, and you would be willing to confidentially mentor someone who fails the exam this fall, please reach out to me. I promise to protect your identity, but I want to match you with someone who feels their world is falling apart. Failing the bar is the beginning of your career, not the end. I want to find a way to give these people the courage to get up and fight again for the privilege of practicing law.

Practicing law is the most incredible privilege of my life, and I want to serve this organization and help every lawyer in this state find their place in our profession.

Finally, learn more about our CLE Abroad trip in 2026.

We are all busy lawyers trying to keep our heads above water, but I have one final request. During this bar year, take a moment to stop and ask yourself how you can engage someone else in the service of our profession. What small thing can you do to make someone else welcome? One of the lawyers in my firm called me “sis” this month. That off-handed comment made my day and stuck with me. What can you do to make someone feel part of your team? Is there someone that you can nominate for an award? Is there someone you can invite to lunch? Who should you call and check in on?

Even the seemingly insignificant comment, call or nomination can make a difference in the life of a lawyer. Thank you for being my people and allowing me to serve as president this year. I know this is an honor held by few, and it is a role I commit to doing my best to fill. |||