Wednesday, January 27, 2010

artma: Heart and Art to Beat Cancer in Kids

Something from nothing I get. I see it regularly in my work as a business lawyer and in my efforts in the community. Turning your tragedy into someone else’s hope is another story altogether, especially when the nightmare involves your child.

Morgan Adams was five-years old when she was diagnosed with a glioblastoma multiforme brain tumor. The best, most aggressive, treatments The Children’s Hospital of Denver could offer were brought to bear on Morgan’s disease, but they were not enough. Eleven courageous months later she died peacefully at home.
Every year, about 12,400 children and teens under the age of 20 are diagnosed with cancer - that is one in every 330 children. The average age of diagnosis is 5.
Morgan’s parents, Joan and Steven, were ordinary folk, an accountant and a photographer, doing what ordinary folks do--raising children, paying the mortgage, helping at school—before Morgan became ill. After she was taken from them, they became extraordinary. They knew that too many children were dying from pediatric cancer; they knew that the survivors often suffered devastating side-effects from their treatment; they knew that little attention and few dollars were dedicated to changing the situation.
Cancer remains the number one disease killer of children; more than genetic anomalies, cystic fibrosis, and AIDS combined.
They knew that they had to do something, and that is how in 2001, artma was born.
artma is a unique biennial art auction featuring over 200 pieces of art which are donated by local, regional and national artists. This funky, offbeat event brings fresh, new art out to play and is an evening that is highly-anticipated and much loved by everyone who attends. The art is outstanding, the crowd is fun and the night is dedicated to raising money for children fighting cancer and to fund a cure.
The passion and success of that first artma led to more events, including a summertime celebration of rare autos and airplanes—Concours d’Elegance, and formation of the Morgan Adams Foundation. Within 7 years of deciding to continue Morgan’s fight on behalf of other kids, Joan and Steven reached their first million dollar moment in funding pediatric cancer research. It’s been my honor to have been part of that first million.

This year, the employees of my law firm, Minor & Brown, decided that giving money was not enough; they wanted to join in with their hearts and have some fun, too. I’m very proud to say that over half of our firm volunteered to help at artma 2010. The event is February 6, but we’ve already started having fun and being humbled.



Kids being treated for cancer in the Cancer Center in the new Children’s Hospital have made art that will be sold at artma along side of the work of professional artists. Minor & Brown employees had the honor of assisting them in that process.



Feathers, sequins, googly eyes and hot glue guns--very hot glue guns—aren’t typical lawyer tools, but I think our helping these “clients”  is some of our best work ever.



Come to artma to see it and experience for yourself how much joy can be had in fighting cancer in kids.
Denver, Colorado
Tickets $50 per person in advance, $65 at the door

Hear from some of the families of the Morgan Adams Foundation why your support matters.



Update, February 5, 2010: Minor & Brown has been busy setting up artma this week. The firm is becoming even more passionate about our connection with this cause. A wonderful post from the mother of a child who was Morgan's kindergarten classmate appeared today and reduced me to tears. I am looking forward to a wonderful and successful event tomorrow night.

Thank you to artma contributing photographer Gifford Ewing for his photos of M&B at The Children's Hospital.

Wednesday, January 20, 2010

Willy Wonka and the Law Degree Factory

The melt-down of Big Law and the implications for young people holding expensive law degrees are the subject of No Longer Their Golden Ticket by Alex Williams of the New York Times:
Lawyers who entered the field as recently as a few years ago could reasonably expect a life of comfort, security and social esteem. Many are now faced with a different landscape. Firms shed more than 4,600 lawyers last year, according to a blog that tracks the legal industry, Law Shucks. Bonuses for those who survive are shriveling, and an increasing number of firms now compensate associates based on grades for performance — shades of law school — rather than automatically advancing them on the salary scale.
Because I’m a big fan of the 1971 movie based on Roald Dahl’s novel Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, I’ll continue the Golden Ticket metaphor. Those twenty-somethings lamenting the demise of $160,000 starting salaries and complaining about pay-for-performance are our equivalent of greedy Augustus Gloop and bratty Veruca Salt.

But the terrible children in Wonka’s factory weren’t entirely to blame, were they? The attitudes of the parents fostered the excesses of the children. Six-figure salaries for first-year lawyers who don’t know a Schonzwanger from a Vermicious Knid -- what were those Big Law partners thinking? (Which more and more of their clients have been asking.)

Law professors, with their Socratic riddles and cryptic comments, are our Oompah Loompas (which is a hell of a lot better than “dead fetuses in the womb of Justice” as trial lawyer Gerry Spence once called them when he spoke at my law school.).

Oompah Loompa, Doompa-dee-do, I’ve got a perfect puzzle for you: In 2010, how is it that record numbers are taking the LSAT and applying to law school while at the very same time the American Bar Association is lobbying Washington to provide student loan relief to recent law graduates who couldn’t get a job if they were dipped in chocolate?

The Law Degree Factory, our nation’s law schools, has a huge vested interest in the allure of the Golden Ticket, but the Factory is silent and unchanging, just as it looked to Charlie from behind its gates. Law schools need to be open with their students about the cost and reward of a legal education. Certainly, the Law Degree Factory, like other factories, needs to modernize and streamline factory processes in response to the changing need for, and value of, their product.

Law school was a life-changing experience for me. I wouldn’t discourage anyone who is passionate and realistic about being a lawyer from attending. Think hard about why you want to go to law school; if the best answer is to get rich, then think again. Law seems to be turning back toward its roots as a profession after a try at being a high-profit business, and that’s a good thing.

As long as there is business in America, there will be a need for business lawyers who are willing to do good work for reasonable compensation. Being a lawyer to human-owned businesses is a rewarding career for me. My income would be scoffed at in Big Law, but it’s been good for me and my family. Plus, I get to work with some of the most interesting and necessary people in our country: people who build businesses and create jobs.

But until the Law Degree Factory changes, before you walk through its gates, turn your best analytical thinking to an estimate of the debt you will incur and the time it will take you to repay that debt in an evolving market place for legal services. If law school still seems logical, then allow yourself to be illogical for a moment. Start law school, like me and many before you, with the starry-eyed dream of changing the world; that’s the real Golden Ticket.
If you want to view paradise
Simply look around and view it
Anything you want to, do it
Want to change the world, there's nothing to it

Monday, January 18, 2010

The Content of Our Character: Martin Luther King, Jr.’s Birthday

More than any of the other legal holidays, this one challenges us. First, we were challenged to establish the holiday. Now, holiday in place, we return to a more fundamental challenge: Are we who we say we are? The Martin Luther King Jr. holiday is a national mirror that dares us to recognize our failings and still strive to live up to our ideals.


Public Domain: Library of Congress, Prints & Photographs Division,
U.S. News & World Report Magazine Collection, LC-DIG-ppmsc-01269
The third Monday in January is the federal holiday honoring the life and achievements of the Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. The tumultuous story of its establishment begins only four days after Dr. King’s assassination on April 4, 1968 and continues for 15 years at the federal level, even longer in some states, to culminate on November 2, 1983 with the adoption of a new legal holiday beginning in 1986. In between, we see America in its full humanity, struggling with its failings, but ultimately transcendent.

Fortunately for a post on “legal” holidays, Dr. King’s I Have a Dream speech begins with very legalistic metaphors: the ideals of our Constitution and Declaration of Independence are a promissory note issued to the people of our country, yet payments on that note to people of color are being returned for insufficient funds. Dr. King, however, refuses to believe the bank of justice is bankrupt, and without asking for or accepting excuses, demands an appropriate cure; he calls on our nation to “rise up and live out the true meaning of its creed: ‘We hold these truths to be self-evident: that all men are created equal.’”

We have made progress toward Dr. King’s dream; the first non-white-male President of the United States is one clear indication. I see another indicator in my family. As a high school freshman, I was bused under court order to integrate a traditionally-black inner-city school in Virginia to overcome decades of Plessy v. Ferguson’s separate-but-equal failings. Today, my daughter is a freshman in an inner-city, racially-diverse high school in Denver by choice. Yet, lingering achievement gaps among racial and economic groups in her school and Colorado schools generally remind us that we have more work to do.

Today, Denver holds a “Marade,” one of the largest King Day celebrations in the country. A Marade, a term coined by Wilma Webb, former State Representative, former First Lady of Denver, and founder of the King Holiday in Colorado, is both march and parade, both demonstration and celebration, her way of reminding us that in civil rights, human rights, no matter our accomplishments, ongoing attention is required.

Striving is central to the content of our American character. I am reminded of the remarks of one of Dr. King’s predecessors in the civil rights movement concerning an even earlier figure in America’s struggles to live out its creed. From W.E.B. Du Bois, one of the founders of the NAACP, writing about President Abraham Lincoln: “I love him not because he was perfect, but because he was not and yet triumphed.”