Early in my paralegal career I was asked to do a lot of things that a paralegal today likely wouldn't be asked to do, like pick up an attorney's dry cleaning or chauffeur him to a deposition an hour away because his car was in the shop.
Instead of complaining, I welcomed the chance to get out of the office. I had been schooled by my mother to not ever complain about that sort of thing. "If they are paying you, it's your duty to do what they ask you to do," she counseled. (Of course, that excludes anything illegal or immoral, and I never had to deal with either scenario, thank goodness.)
My father, who ran the trust department of a bank for thirty-five years, often asked his bank officers to do unusual things. He had many elderly customers who came from generations of wealth but who were stubborn about asking for help. He visited a client one day and her television was broken. In those days, even small TVs were heavy for an old person. She didn't have any servants or family who could help her. Dad sent one of his officers out to buy her a TV and install it for her and make sure it worked. Did he have to do that? No. It wasn't one of his job duties, but it made her happy. That's one reason why Dad's customers loved him.
When my mother was only 22 years old she got her first teaching job, in an elementary school in a very bad neighborhood of Atlanta. Raised in a comfortable middle class home, she had never seen kids come to school hungry, and it upset her profoundly. She often bought milk, and sometimes lunch, for kids who had come to school with empty stomachs. She spent a great deal of her paycheck on her kids. Years later when she told me about it, she said even though many of the parents were criminals and prostitutes, they were eager for their kids to do well in school, and get out of the generational poverty, and they always supported and appreciated her efforts. Although in the rest of her short teaching career she taught at much nicer schools, she never had parents as involved and caring, and it touched her deeply.
When my brother was a young Army first lieutenant, he was only 23 years old, but to the 18 and 19 year olds he led were very naive. Routinely, they would run out of money before then end of the month - and they sometimes had families to feed. One guy said to him "I don't know why the PX [grocery store on base] won't take my check. I have lots of checks left!" My brother patiently sat with the guy and helped them to understand how to create a budget and stick to it, so his wife and child could eat all month. (The soldiers could eat in the Mess Hall, of course.) Another time one of his top sergeants kept showing up for work having had little or no sleep the night before due to his baby crying all the time. Brother called our mom, who listened to the story and told him to tell the sergeant to go ahead and start the baby on baby food, which solved the problem. That cost some money because long-distance calls weren't cheap in those days. My brother didn't have to go the extra mile but he felt like it was important to help his soldiers.
Most of us spend a lot of our lives at work. We run into situations where job duties fall far outside what's in the official company job description. We have two choices. We can go to HR and complain, or we can just pitch in and act from a place of team unity and/or simple compassion.
Some of my early paralegal duties included making coffee, walking to the courthouse to file pleadings, delivering Christmas gifts to clients, picking up clients and driving them to court, and picking up lunch for everyone in a deposition. I've also hugged and comforted upset clients, and bought cold medicine for a sick attorney who was in trial. My point is simple: you're a human being before you're a paralegal. That attorney who asks you to do something outside your job description probably isn't trying to demean you; they just need some extra help. Unless there are really odd, extenuating circumstances, it's usually best to be flexible when it comes to job duties. Act on the side of caring and being a team player. Follow the Golden Rule. Err on the side of the angels and show grace and compassion.
For more stories and paralegal guidance, check out my book Paralegal 411: Tips, Tricks, and Timesavers for the Litigation Paralegal, or my humorous memoir, Talking Back: Stories from the Big Hair and Pantyhose Years.
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