Life lessons: The value of work

Hello my bloggy friends!

Recently, Nathan "interviewed" me to learn what it takes to become a lawyer. He's beginning to think about the future. Four years undergrad. LSAT (law school admission test). Three years of law school. Tests. Bar exam. He was quite surprised that most law school courses provide only one opportunity for class grade -- the final exam. It's an all or nothing thing. At first, he liked the sound of that, but then he realized there's no slacking toward the end of the semester.

He asked me about starting salaries. My husband and I caught each other's eye and we burst out laughing. I had absolutely no idea what the average starting salary is! (We did look it up online, and if you're interested it's $110,580).

Then I explained. My starting salary was - gasp! - $19,000. Our office receptionist made more money than I did. I think my salary went up about $2,000 over the course of my five years as a criminal prosecutor. My son was shocked -- why do it if you don't get paid well?

I had his full attention. "Dear God, Don't let me mess this up! Help him understand what's really important." I prayed silently. I knew I had a rare opportunity to teach a valuable life lesson.

As a prosecutor, I didn't function like the others in the office. My role, every hour of every day, was to prosecute only one type of case. Domestic violence. In fact, I was the first in my state to focus 100% on domestic violence cases. At the time (and really still today), domestic violence offenders often "get away with it." They convince their victims no to follow through. Thus, court day comes and no one shows up to testify about the crime except the officer who made the arrest. The offender walks out, completely free. Of course, there are deep psychological issues involved. While it doesn't make sense to "us," the truth is the victims really believe they're better off not testifying.

A bit naively and with no program to model after, I plunged in. I worked with our local hospitals and police departments to educate these professionals about the unique aspects of domestic violence and asked for their support. Both our hospitals and law enforcement officers changed how they documented evidence. I connected victims with the resources available through our battered women's shelter. Over the years, the conviction rate improved dramatically.

I paused. Nathan asked a few more questions specific to the job. He finally asked the big one, "Why?" Why go through all that for no money? Why do all that when it's stressful and heartbreaking?

I smiled. God was holding the door open. Nathan was still listening.

My dear son, no amount of money will make a job worthwhile. Whether you earn $250,000 or nothing, if you do what you are meant to do, it just won't matter. In my job, I knew that I made a difference in a lot of lives. I knew women were in a better position than they would have been if I weren't there. Often, my heart broke for them. But sometimes. Sometimes they actually believed they deserved better and gathered the courage to break away and start a new life.

I keep a small file from my prosecutor days. In it are the thank you notes that women sent. I shared those notes with Nathan. That's what life is all about. Priceless.