The Law Society

08/02/2024 | News release | Distributed by Public on 08/02/2024 08:28

“There was a hierarchy, and I was at the bottom”: Salma Maqsood on life as a hijabi Muslim lawyer

We used to get pulled over by the police and targeted because of our ethnicity. My parents originally came from Pakistan but I grew up in Bristol. We didn't question it because, like many people, we didn't know the law. That's why I think children should be taught their rights from an early age. It's one of the reasons I chose to study law.

Being Muslim, I don't drink. When I was at university, most fresher events were alcohol based, so my life was: go to university, do my part-time job, and then go home. I didn't know about meeting people and making connections: there was no-one that looked like me. Now, I strive to be that person for aspiring solicitors.

I didn't want to be a financial burden to my parents. I wanted to do the Legal Practice Course (LPC), but it's expensive and I knew it would be a strain because I've got five younger brothers and sisters. So, I worked all the way through. My family had so much faith in me, I knew I had to make it.

I sent out hundreds of training contract applications over three years. In the end, I just wanted to give up. At the time, there was a culture that women my age should be married with children. I'm glad to see the culture shifting but, during this period, I was very disheartened.

I was told on the first day of my training contract that it would be like boot camp. There was a hierarchy, and I was at the bottom. I moved to London, but the wages weren't great. I took a second part-time job and got support from my family so I could complete my training contract and qualify.

I really wanted to be a property lawyer - then the market crashed. It happened just as I qualified. I had all these dreams of working in a Magic Circle firm. I was also expecting my first child, so I stayed on at the firm I qualified in. I didn't even go to my admission ceremony because I didn't want to rock up with a bump.  I've now learnt it's never too late and you can attend an admission ceremony regardless of when you qualified.

The expectation in law has always been that you work long hours. But this is starting to change.  The truth is everybody is replaceable - you work to live, not live to work. A lot of change has come from the junior lawyers I've worked with, and I'm so grateful to them. I now confidently arrange meetings around the school run and clients have been so understanding. It makes us lawyers more human. Your mental health is so important: we must take time to live and enjoy our lives.

I've got two daughters and don't want them to go through the same challenges I did. When I returned to Bristol after a decade, I remember going through the partners and solicitors in firms and seeing not much had changed in terms of diversity. So, I've spent my time outside work networking and trying to do what I can to push the diversity agenda. I've met some incredible people championing and supporting diversity and inclusion in the profession. By working together, we can effect change. It's not my legacy, it's our legacy.

Many women Muslim lawyers say they don't wear the hijab because they think it will affect their chances. I didn't either, I'm open about it. I took it off for a few years. I'm not proud of that, but I did because I felt like I had to, to succeed in law. I shouldn't have had to make that choice. I now try to show others that you can be successful, even if you wear the hijab.

You need the voice in the room. I encourage people to join the Law Society Council because the more diverse it is, the more representative it is. You can raise questions others wouldn't have thought about because they haven't experienced those challenges. You can feed into strategic decisions which affect the legal profession and play a key role in its future direction.

I want to see more people who look like me. I didn't think about joining Council until the hijab ban came out in France. I was so shaken I felt I needed to do something in case it happened in England.

Now my portrait hangs at Chancery Lane, a hijabi Muslim lawyer. I never thought somebody who looked like me would have their photograph at such a prestigious legal establishment. My daughters were so excited: it means so much to us. I hope it inspires people from all backgrounds to join the legal profession.

Find out more

Join our Ethnic Solicitors Network for career-enhancing events, information and networking opportunities.

Discover more about Salma and the work she does as a member of the Law Society Council.