Exercising Their Power

When asked if she faced any discrimination early in her career, Linda Mariani responds, “Geez, which story do you want?”

The women who blazed the trail in law were not only trying to perform in high-pressure jobs with little support, they also faced harassment and discrimination while doing so. This was in the ’70s, before laws prohibited it. Here are the stories of four women who chose law, succeeded when the odds were stacked against them, and found an ally or two along the way.

Deciding on Law

Greta E. Solomon, Cohen and Wolf; Bridgeport; Estate Planning & Probate: I was at Smith College and studied abroad in England. There, I found that the women studying law were much more interesting than anyone studying sociology with me. Later, a close friend at Smith went to law school and I thought, “Women could go to law school?!”

Judge Elaine Gordon, Gordon ADR; Westbrook; Alternative Dispute Resolution: I was an inquisitive, talkative, and occasionally argumentative child. And when I was about 10, my mother said, “When you grow up, you can make money with that big mouth as a lawyer.”

Linda L. Mariani, Mariani Reck Lane; New London; Family Law: I was kind of an egghead in school, but found my way to Cornell, where I was a philosophy major. That’s what sparked my interest in law—studying Aristotle and Plato. Combined with being a kid who was good at arguing and who had a strong sense of justice and what was right, law fit.

Mary “Molly” Ackerly, Murtha Collina; Bantam; Estate Planning & Probate: I woke up one morning and said, “I want to be a lawyer.” I told my father, and he said, “Why do you want to go to law school?” And I said, “Because I want to be a lawyer.” He looked at me with new eyes; I think he thought I wanted to go because I had nothing better to do.

Staring Down Traditional Gender Roles

Ackerly: I grew up in a male-dominated household. My father was a lawyer, and I had three brothers. My mother was a stay-at-home mom. It never occurred to me that I had options besides being a housewife. I ended up marrying somebody who was as much a Neanderthal about traditional roles as my father. I put him through business school, and soon discovered I was not a good stay-at-home wife. I got bored. The end came when I said, “It’s time for me to get a job.” And he said, “You can’t have two working people in the household.” I left him, and soon after entered law school.

Solomon: My father loved smart women and encouraged me to do whatever I wanted. My mother wanted to go into business when she finished at Smith, but her father wouldn’t let her. There wasn’t any way she was going to stop me doing what I wanted, but she was a little jealous that I had the opportunity.

Mariani: My father was a surgeon, and my mom an Italian housewife who stayed home and made delicious food. They were both supportive.

Gordon: My mother was an immigrant who left Poland in 1939, footsteps away from Hitler. My mother was very competent. My father was very quiet, smart. I have one brother and many male cousins. There was no difference in the way I was raised. We were told that we had to get a great education. We were expected to work our hardest. But I had no idea that there were things I couldn’t do.

Law School in the ’70s

Solomon: I was the top of my class, so while there might’ve been gender bias, I didn’t get much. Not long after I graduated, there was an explosion of women in law school. It happened quickly. But the profession? Not so quick.

Ackerly: When I went to law school, I was five years late because of the intervening marriage. By the time I got there, there was a sea change. If there was discrimination, I was too thickheaded to notice.

Mariani: Everything we did in school was male-oriented. There were hardly any women at Cornell, and fewer in my law school class, yet I don’t remember any inequality. I felt like I fit in.

Gordon: I had one professor at DePaul who graded us by number. They didn’t have our name when they graded our papers. My two friends, Pat and Nancy, and I had been the top three finishers on the final. As I checked the wall to see our grades, the professor came by and said, “It’s too bad women aren’t capable of abstract thought.” That is seriously what he said. And I said, “Well, apparently we are, as we finished one, two, and three in your class.” He turned bright red and just walked away.

First Jobs

Mariani: When I think back on the questions I was asked, it makes me shake my head: “Are you planning to have children? Because that might be a problem.” I’d say, “I don’t know.” And they’re like, “But we really need to know.” And even if you assured them you weren’t, it was still, “We find that hard to believe.” Another firm, I was sure I got the job. But they told me they didn’t think the secretaries would work for me—women working for women was just crazy. So I didn’t get that job. Another firm said they hired a woman once, but she quit and became a nun, and they weren’t hiring any more. Finally, I got a job. I was the only woman. The male lawyers didn’t know how to react. They made inappropriate jokes. I didn’t know how to respond because you don’t want to be a shrinking violet, but you also don’t want to be like, “That was a good one.” Eventually, you learned to react in a way that neutralizes what they’re saying. Now I’m comfortable around men because they’re often idiots.

Gordon: I went to law school intending to work for Legal Aid, which is where I wound up. But I did interview at some of the larger firms here in Connecticut. And I was told by one of the people who interviewed me that juries don’t like women. I was so angry. Other firms wanted to know if I intended to have children, that kind of thing. So going to Legal Aid, where we were a much more egalitarian organization, was a good choice. I got thrown into a courtroom the first day. I knew nothing. It was trial by fire. I found everybody great. The guys on opposing counsel were wonderful. They’d tell me I was being a pain in the neck if I was being a pain in the neck, but they’d do it with kindness.

Years later, when I wanted to become a judge and you needed political support, those same opposing counsel from early in my career were the ones who introduced me to the people who wound up helping me get on the bench. I was appointed in 1988 and was a judge for 23 years. At the time, there were 82 judges in the superior court, as they had unified all the courts. Six were women. I was the seventh.

Solomon: My experiences at my first law firm made me question the values of the people I worked with, and I found that I wasn’t comfortable in that particular firm because of the way they treated women. I left after two years and came to Cohen and Wolf in 1979. I interviewed with Marty Albert, who was such a gentleman. I worked for him all summer on a per-diem basis. In the fall, I told him I wanted to go full-time. He said, “I’d love to hire you.” And that was that.

Finding Mentors

Mariani: I was pretty much running by the seat of my pants, although there was a superior court judge, Judge Angelo Santaniello. If anyone was a mentor, it was he.

Solomon: I couldn’t have had a better mentor than Marty. I got nothing but encouragement. My peers were a little bit envious of how much freedom I had. Being a woman attorney with a lot of men had its challenges, and since then the firm has become much more balanced between men and women. But Marty said, “Don’t make the firm your social life. Go out and find your life outside the firm.” And I did.

Gordon: The older judges who you would think might’ve been a little stodgy or difficult were supportive and amazing. My first place I sat was in Waterbury, and I have a picture of a bunch of these old gray guys and me. These men uniformly had my back. They helped me with everything. It was an amazingly welcoming group. The people who I had feared when they were the judges on my cases turned out to be great, nice, funny people.

Navigating Discrimination

Mariani: Many of my peers resented women lawyers. The things people said to me were outrageous. Probably the worst was when I had worked myself up to president of the bar association. The chief speaker at our gala was a well-known lawyer, and he made remarks like, “I’m going to give Linda the key to my hotel room after this, and we’re going to have a good time.” Here I was, the president. But it wasn’t just male colleagues, it was men, period. When I decided I was brave enough to start my own firm, I qualified for a loan. When I went to seal the deal, the bank officials said, “Does your father know you’re doing this?” I was poised between rebellion and submission, because I wanted the loan but also wanted to tell them to pound sand. I said, “Oh, yes, sir, he does.” They said, “So you don’t mind if I give him a call?” And I’m like, are you freaking kidding me? They actually called my father.

Solomon: When I started in law, the Women’s Caucus went to the bar association and said, “Pease drop esquire. It’s a male pronoun. We all want to be attorneys.” Now the young women all want to use esquire. For them, it’s a badge of honor, which is a very different way of telling their story.

Gordon: I was working at a publishing house before law school, and I had a boss who was offensive, and who made me uncomfortable. I quit. There weren’t any laws then. It would’ve been called sexual harassment now. I didn’t know that you couldn’t collect unemployment if you quit, so I applied for unemployment. I went to my hearing because the company opposed me. And the hearing officer just turned around to them and said, “Do any of you men have daughters? Would you want your daughter treated like this? She shouldn’t be sitting here. That guy should be sitting here.” Then he said to me, “People who do this are bullies and cowards.” That changed the way I dealt with people. When people were obnoxious, I would just say something like, “Is that the best you can do?” Sometimes I would just walk away and say, “I’ll be down the hall when you’re ready to have a professional conversation.” Usually that worked.

Rewriting the Narrative

Ackerly: In one real estate deal, there were some IRS liens on a property, and we needed to get releases to sell the property and pay off the liens. There was an IRS office in Hartford, so I wrote letters and I left messages on the phone saying, “We need these releases.” Finally the agent called me and said, “Would you please tell attorney Ackerly we can’t release these without this, that and the other.” And I said, “I am attorney Ackerly.” The fellow was so embarrassed, I had my release within 24 hours.

Mariani: I started to get a lot of business from being a woman. People would say, “So-and-so saw you in court and you were an animal.” A man knows his stuff; he’s fierce, confident. A woman, they’d describe us in terms that were sometimes beyond human: shark, animal, bulldog. My husband, also a lawyer, overheard one man who wanted to hire me term me a “ferocious animal.” He looked at me and asked, “What exactly are you doing in that courtroom?” And I said, “Cross-examining, same as you.”

Solomon: Being underestimated when it comes to who has power and how they use it is beneficial. A partner once said to me, “You don’t have any power.” And I laughed and said, “I have lots of power. I just choose to exercise it in a way that you can’t even see.” Women are more clever at quietly exercising their power.

Advice for the Next Gen

Solomon: If you don’t love what you do, it’s just a job. And if it’s just a job, it’ll show. And if it shows, don’t stay—go find something to be passionate about.

Gordon: You have to find your voice, and that doesn’t happen quickly. Then use it to be honest about what you like and don’t like. Some people wind up in firms they don’t like and just put their heads down. You have to be willing to change course.

Ackerly: There were times when I probably should have stood up for myself a little bit more, and I wish I had. The thing to do is to work hard and trust yourself.

Mariani: Don’t be afraid. You can do anything. Don’t be intimidated. Know that you’re as good as the men are. In fact, in many cases, you’re likely better.