This as-told-to essay is based on a conversation with 33-year-old Priscilla Hamilton, a lawyer based in New Rochelle, New York. Her salaries and work history have been verified by Business Insider. The following has been edited for length and clarity.
My parents always wanted me to be a doctor, but at 26 years old, I decided to go to law school instead.
I had done Teach for America in Miami and my students had grown up with Trayvon Martin, who had been killed a few years prior. He could’ve easily been a student of mine. I grew up very sheltered, going to predominantly white private schools, so hearing my students talk about how the legal system affected their lives and families opened my mind.
I wanted to do nonprofit work but knew I wouldn’t have the financial security to do so right out of law school, so my plan was to get into corporate law, create some six-figure savings for myself, and then be able to choose what I wanted to do.
Unexpectedly, I ended up working in corporate law for several years, and I felt like I was sacrificing my morals. I made a lot of money, but part of me felt empty for a long time before finally being able to do something that truly fulfills me now.
Working in Big Law meant long hours and high expectations
The summer after my first year, I was placed at a corporate law firm through the New York City Bar’s Diversity Fellowship Program. It wasn’t super common for people to get a corporate law internship in their first summer of law school, so I jumped at the opportunity.
The following summer, I interned at Fried Frank, a global law firm, and was given a return offer as a first-year associate.
I worked on investment funds and tried to give the work a chance. I thought to myself, Let me go to a firm that’s the best at investment funds, and maybe I’ll fall in love with it!
I landed a job at Simpson Thacher & Bartlett, one of the top companies for investment funds at the time.
I got a lot of excellent training from both firms but ultimately, the love for investment funds work never came. I excelled at the work, but I didn’t like it at all.
I worked long hours — sometimes 12- to 14-hour days — and didn’t really have breaks. I often had to reply to emails on weekends when I was at dinner with my family, because there was an expectation that we answer emails within five to 10 minutes of receiving them.
As my seniority went up, my workload also increased. The part that affected me the most was not having a cutoff time and not having time to myself. I was expected to be “on” all the time. But I got used to it.
Doing pro bono work on the side kept me sane. I did over 100 hours of pro bono work a year on top of my regular work; I’d be reading investment funds contracts while working on a research case for The Innocence Project.
In my final year, I also became a manager. I loved teaching and developed such a close relationship with my team, giving them feedback even outside of their annual reviews, which was unheard of. I felt it was really important to tell them both what they were doing well and the areas of opportunity.
I was able to stay in Big Law for as long as I did because I was able to integrate things I loved and was passionate about.
I decided to choose myself and leave
At the beginning of 2023, I decided I’d leave, but was still nervous about whether I was making the right decision.
By October, I was overwhelmed by work and wondered, Am I going to go into 2024 and continue this cycle, or am I going to take the plunge?
I went to a wellness resort called Miraval in Arizona, attending all sorts of self-care classes and doing some soul-searching. I spoke to women holding very powerful positions in Fortune 500 companies who said that they wished they had chosen themselves earlier on.
That solidified to me that it was time to pull the plug. I had the funds, so what was I afraid of? I decided to leave in the first quarter of 2024, after getting my end-of-year bonus.
When I got back to work, I started reaching out to organizations I’d done pro bono work with to let them know that I was planning to leave and to set up conversations about potential openings.
In March 2024, I gave my notice.
I love my work more and more every day
In mid-April, I started working at a nonprofit organization in the Bronx that primarily focuses on assisting people who have gone through domestic violence, a cause that’s near and dear to my heart. We provide support with things like helping them obtain orders of protection and filing for custody or child support.
If we can’t take them on for capacity reasons, we at least advise them on their rights, help them write out and file petitions, and help them find other free legal services in the Bronx.
I love the job more and more with every single day that passes. I’ve never felt like this about a job before — it’s liberating.
My work involves a lot of talking and comforting people. It’s emotionally heavy, but I thrive in this environment because I’m incredibly empathetic. I don’t mind hugging people and will cry with them. I’m here to help them, and I take that seriously.
Every day is different. There’s always a case that comes up that none of us has seen, so it’s really cool to research it and learn more. I can be both student and teacher, and it’s never boring or tedious.
Also, my two supervising attorneys are both Black women, and they constantly give me positive reinforcement. It feels like they really care about educating me on different topics. In corporate law, I didn’t really feel like anyone cared if I did well or not.
Public interest lawyers are not paid enough
When I left as a fourth-year associate, my salary was around $315,000. Monthly, after taxes, I was bringing home around $16,000. Now, I’m making $83,000 in nonprofit work, and my monthly paycheck after taxes and everything is less than $5,000. Plus, now I have to pay $200 a month for parking at my job.
Public interest lawyers aren’t compensated in the way that we deserve to be. We’re doing such impactful, important work, and we deserve to be paid whatever corporate lawyers are making, but we just don’t have the funding for it. That sucks, because a lot of brilliant lawyers who love the job end up leaving because the salary just isn’t sustainable.
In corporate law, they spoil you. I had my own laptop plus a $2,500 tech budget, which I used to buy a brand-new phone. Everything could get comped; if I drove into the city for an event, they’d pay for my parking. If I needed any office supplies, we had a website where I could just add them to the cart and someone would bring them to me within the hour. If any of my pro bono clients needed food or a ride home, I could just order it for them and get reimbursed.
Now working at a nonprofit, it’s very different. It’s faster for me to order supplies on Amazon using my own money than to order them through our Staples Advantage program, which can take six weeks to come in. We have funding for clients who need help, but that money runs out. Our pockets aren’t deep enough to take care of everyone.
I’m only able to have this job now because while working in Big Law, I saved a good chunk of my paycheck despite loving luxury things. It allowed me to create a six-figure nest and budget that will sustain me for at least three to five years.
I also have a TikTok platform that has grown beyond what I could have ever imagined when I first started posting in summer of 2021, and I have the option to generate additional income from that if I want to.
I know people say money is the root of all evil, but money also generates freedom. If people were to ask me if I would do it again, I would do it exactly this way.
And I’d encourage other people: “If you can get into corporate law, go get the corporate law money, line your pockets, and then leave. But always put your mental health first.”
If you quit a high-paying job and took a salary cut and would like to share your story, email Jane Zhang at [email protected].