I Grew Up as a Blue-Collar Worker. | Part V: Five Things Most People Don’t Know About Me.

               It’s funny how we perceive those outside our own little world. Think of someone you haven’t seen or heard from in a decade – maybe since high school. I bet that – in your mind – they’re the exact same character they always were, unchanged in appearance and behavior, despite the passage of time. If you were to bump into them tomorrow, you would probably experience a momentary shock when you realize they’ve changed, grown up, and left parts of themselves behind. They have new hobbies, interests, friends, and family.

               The opposite is true for the people we meet later in life. We tend to assume that they’ve always been the same person. It’s as if, when we discovered them, they materialized on this earth for the first time. It’s as if their every characteristic is a birthmark rather than something they developed over the course of decades.

               I imagine, when most people picture a lawyer, they see a desk jockey. A person who shuns the light of the sun unless they’re at an all-expense resort. A person who’s never done “real work” a day in their life. A person who doesn’t know how to get their hands dirty and would refuse to even if they did. Longhair or not, we attorneys are all susceptible to that stereotype.

               I can’t speak for all lawyers but – I can absolutely promise you – that’s not me.

               At sixteen, the summer before my sophomore year of high school, I got my first job. I was a laborer and operator for a local cattle company in Ritzville, WA, The 5C Family Ranch. Over the course of four summers, two spring breaks, and a handful of winter days, I repaired and maintained center pivots, fencing, and farm equipment. I changed pipe, built irrigation lines, unclogged pumps, tore down old corrals and outbuildings, and welded new corrals together. I operated front-end loaders, telehandlers, tractors, a backhoe, an excavator, a dump truck, and a semi-truck. I swathed, raked, baled, hauled, and fed hay. I also sprayed more thistles than your average city-dweller sees in a lifetime.

               In the summers before and after my time at Washinton State University, I worked for the Adams County Public Works Department. For some of you, that might raise a couple of questions. First, for those of you who know a thing or two about government work, you may be asking – should working for a county even count as labor?  Second, for those of you who are in tune to local politics, you may be asking – isn’t that nepotism? I can assure you that neither the prospect of government work nor the fact that my dad was the Public Works Director (and importantly not my supervisor) affected my work ethic. Sure, at times I maintained roads from the luxury of an air-conditioned vehicle but, at others, I walked for miles alongside a chip-spreader in 90-degree heat, raking out bumps in newly laid gravel placed over hot oil.

               In the summer before my senior year at WSU, I landed one of my favorite jobs to date, working as a laborer (and occasional operator) at Boyd & Boyd Construction, LLC, an excavation company based out of Pullman, WA. I installed septic and drainage systems, dug trenches for utilities, and prepped ground for concrete. Looking back, it feels like I spent equal portions of my time on either a skid-steer or a “Jumping Jack” compactor. If you’re unfamiliar, I encourage you to look up videos of those two pieces of equipment and take a wild guess at which one is more fun to operate.

               Wanting to save up some cash before graduation, I picked up one last job to get me through college. I worked as a maintenance technician (AKA janitor), at the Paradise Creek Brewery’s Downtown Restaurant in Pullman beginning in January of my senior year. I cleaned that restaurant every morning, five days a week, until graduation. It wouldn’t have been all that labor-intensive if it weren’t for the unusual frequency of snowfall. I spent the first part of my mornings shoveling snow and spreading salt on sidewalks. I spent the second part of my mornings removing salt from hardwood floors and carpets. Salt war aside, it was a great job. I enjoyed the work, chatting with my coworkers as they came in for their morning shifts, and working for a family business that makes great beer.

               These experiences didn’t just make me a better person. I can think of at least three reasons they made me a better lawyer.

(1)   I’m tougher.      

               When I lack motivation because I’m bored sitting at my desk, I remember that my desk is more exciting than the 16th hour of going around in circles on a tractor at five miles per hour. When I’m frustrated at a person who’s being an ass, I remember that they aren’t as bad as that one contractor I had to put up with (who shall go unnamed).

(2)   I can relate to “real” people.

               Don’t get me wrong, I have my privileges – plenty of them – but I haven’t lived my life in an ivory tower. When I’m talking to a person from a blue-collar background – whether it’s a business owner who needs advice, an employee who’s been wronged, or a person who’s worked their whole life and wants to plan for what’s next – I can relate to them. I get how hard they work, I know what they put up with, and I understand how they interact with the people around them.

(3)   I know the tools of the trades (and the lingo too).

               Attorneys are quick learners. I’ll be the first to tell you that it rarely takes a hyper-specialist to get the job done. Being in agriculture doesn’t usually mean you need an “agricultural” attorney. Being in construction doesn’t always mean you need a “construction” attorney.” With that said – boy does it help to have someone who knows a few things. Imagine an excavation company trying to work with an attorney who couldn’t identify an excavator in a line-up of equipment. Imagine a rancher with an attorney who doesn’t know the difference between a cow and a steer. A good attorney can work around their lack of knowledge but it helps to have a baseline.

               In my short career, I’ve helped people and businesses involved in more industries than I can keep track of – construction, agriculture, viticulture, marijuana, higher education, charter schools, software, engineering, building maintenance, medical, rental, dental, real estate, and retail, to name a few. I’ve also dealt with more strange disputes in niche industries than you would probably think possible – disputes about short-line railroads, bedbugs at resorts, agricultural fencing debacles, and viticultural catastrophes. That’s all on top of the usual suspects – the fraudsters, the AWOL contractors, and the bosses who don’t pay their employees.

               I have yet to encounter a legal issue that doesn’t relate back to my work experience in some way. I don’t have a way of tracking it, but I imagine the amount of money clients have saved by not having to explain things to me – like what t-post is, what sonotube is for, or why Romex wiring got so expensive a few years ago – is going to be pretty substantial over the course of my career.

               Ultimately, I’m thankful for the experiences I have, and – dare I say it – I miss some of the work. Who knows, in a few years, once these student loans are paid off, you might just catch sight of me on an excavator.

— Tyler O’Brien —