Take us back to the beginning. What drew you to intern with Sierra Community House, and what were you hoping to get out of it?

It started with a lesson my friends and I learned in law school — that in the United States, a person’s economic status has an enormous bearing on the legal representation they can access, and therefore the outcomes they can achieve. Good lawyers are not cheap, and we spent a lot of time thinking about how we could help people on the lower end of the economic spectrum get better results in their legal disputes. To understand the nuances of this kind of public interest work, I applied for an internship at the Sierra Community House (SCH).

The practical circumstances helped too. It was the summer of 2012, and the Recession had made internships and jobs genuinely hard to come by for aspiring lawyers. I was set on staying in Northern California but kept striking out. I finally found SCH, which was based in Truckee at the time, but like most other options at the time it was unpaid. So, I set up my tent in the National Forest, came to work every day in my tie, got a second job serving at night, and made it work. I was hoping to get front-line legal experience working with real clients, and SCH delivered.

What did the day-to-day actually look like for you on SCH’s legal team? What kinds of issues or cases were you working through?

It’s been a while, so I can’t pretend to remember every detail! I do recall working on a significant amount of family law matters and payment disputes. What stood out wasn’t any single case type — it was the volume and immediacy of people’s needs. People came in with real problems that were affecting their lives, and you had to get up to speed quickly and try to actually help them.

 

Was there a moment, a case, or a conversation during your time at SCH that really stuck with you? Something that changed how you thought about the law or about your role in it?

I had a few very difficult family law matters, meetings that were so painful I immediately knew I did not want to practice family law. That was extremely helpful. I also worked with a landlord at one point who was a very mellow guy, and that seemed more my speed. I still work with a lot of landlords.

 

Working at a nonprofit that serves survivors of sexual assault and vulnerable community members is different from a lot of other legal environments. How did that shape your understanding of what law can actually do for people?

It is easy to think about the law as a written system to navigate. But at SCH, the people in front of you made it impossible to think that way. You saw very directly what was at stake for them, which were often relatively simple matters that somehow did not fit squarely within the applicable laws. How could something so simple be so complicated and confusing? Folks would come in completely defeated and demoralized, beaten up by the system. That experience gave me a lasting respect for what community-based legal work accomplishes. It is really about restoring some sense of agency to people who feel they have none.

 

What skills or instincts did you develop at SCH that you still rely on today as a partner at High West Law?

Listening, first and foremost. When clients come to you in difficult circumstances, the instinct to jump straight to legal analysis and conclusions can get in the way of understanding what the client wants and needs. You must slow down, hear the full picture, and ask additional questions before offering solutions. This sounds easy, but it is an art that takes a lot of practice. Oftentimes, not enough deep follow up questions are asked.

Was there anyone at SCH — a supervisor, a colleague, a client — who influenced how you approach your work now?

Elizabeth Balmin, without question. She modeled what it looks like to be both rigorous, genuinely compassionate, and connected in the community, and I’ve tried to carry that forward.

I also must note that Brian Gonsalves was an inspiration as well. He owned his own firm, acted as SCH’s supervising attorney, and yet somehow always seemed to have time to answer my questions. And when I first started my own practice, Brian was one of the first people I reached out to for advice. I try to carry forward his open and welcoming approach everywhere.

How do you describe High West Law’s work to someone unfamiliar with it, and are there any parallels between what you do now and the kinds of legal issues you encountered at SCH?

High West Law focuses on business, construction, real estate, and estate planning. We provide sophisticated legal counsel, often to wealthy and powerful people. Yet the fundamental problems are the same – the client often arrives on our doorstep in crisis, with solutions needed yesterday. That is parallel to my experience at SCH: I’m still thinking on my feet, making judgement calls and helping people determine a path and move forward quickly. That skill goes straight back to my summer in Tahoe interning for SCH.

You’ve gone from intern to partner. That’s a real arc. What do you know now that you wish someone had told you when you were sitting in that SCH office?

It’s going to work out. I mean that simply and sincerely. When you’re an unpaid intern living out of a tent in the National Forest, wondering whether any of this is going to lead somewhere — the answer is yes. Trust the work, trust the relationships you’re building, and keep showing up. Maybe the arc takes care of itself if you stay committed.

What would you say to a law student or early-career attorney who’s considering doing their internship or early work at a community-based nonprofit like SCH, rather than going straight to a firm?

Do it. The experience you get at a place like SCH is irreplaceable. You’ll develop judgment that you simply can’t get by spending time on document review or secondary research at a large firm. And you’ll know, very quickly, whether this work means something to you. That is worth a lot.

If you could point to one thing SCH gave you that no firm or classroom could have, what would it be?

Daily, in-person contact with people facing legal problems in an overwhelming system they cannot navigate on their own. Sitting across from someone who is frightened or overwhelmed, and knowing that what you do next actually matters to them made me a better lawyer and, I think, a more grounded person.