As a Poznak Dyer Kanar Schefsky Thompson PLC member, I'm the head of Civil Litigation and Family Law. The most challenging part of being a family law attorney is that it's 97 perscent driven by emotion on the client’s side. People aren't just numbers. Financial issues are one thing, and they are important, but when situations involve children, it's very different.
Divorces are nobody's favorite thing, and dealing with people at their worst moments is challenging. As a lawyer, I'm supposed to be impartial, offering advice based on experience and education, which isn't always what people want to hear. Sometimes telling people bad news makes them think you aren’t “fighting” for them, but that just simply isn’t the case. Clients can’t make an informed decision if you just blow smoke at them and tell them what they want to hear.
I joke that I'm a counselor, but I'm not that type of counselor. Within five minutes of meeting someone, they'll share intimate details about their marriage, which is necessary for understanding the relationship and any fault, but it's heavy. You learn a lot about people and must keep it all confidential and non-judgmental. Some lawyers are judgmental, but I try to stay empathetic.
However, as you hear more and more, it's easy to become jaded. People's lives are messy. The law is static—there are statutes and case law which provide interpretations. But then there are humans with their behaviors and emotions, and when you try to fit them through this static legal system, out comes what I call the "sausage of justice."
It's not perfect, and the legal system is often retroactive, correcting things after they happen, which is difficult for people to grasp. Oftentimes there just is not something that can be done until something “bad” happens. That is frustrating, particularly from the client’s side.
Although I've lived all over the country, from California to Texas, I was born in the Midland Hospital. My dad started working at Dow around the time I was born, and we lived on Bookness Street before moving to Crane Court in 1988. In 1989, we moved to San Francisco for a year and eventually settled for a longer stay in Texas.
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Max Loves MidlandPatrick Schefsky
I'm an only child, so I had a lot of time to myself, which probably led to some anxiety. I didn't like change, so moving to California wasn't great for me, and then moving to Texas shortly after was hard, even though it was an excellent opportunity for my family. I imagined Texas as a place with cowboys and bulls running around, which I remember scared me. In Texas, I learned a lot more about the differences between people. Not having a Southern accent made me stand out, and kids called me a Yankee, which I didn't understand, but I eventually made many friends there despite my midwestern accent.
In 1994, my dad got transferred back to Midland, where things felt like home, but it was another adjustment. For example, I still wish we could use "fixin' to" here in Michigan—it's a great phrase. My mother would never forgive me for using it, however.
I attended Adams Elementary, Northeast Middle School, and Midland High before attending Albion College, where I eventually met my wife. I am a cum laude graduate of both Albion College and Michigan State University College of Law. Even with that, I'm still a fan of the maize and blue.
As a high schooler, I played soccer and stuck to "jockier hobbies." Like most teenagers, I wanted to get out of Midland because I thought there was nothing to do, but it was a safe place with a lot of resources I did not realize were benefiting me. Even though there were things I didn't know I was missing out on until I left, I realized the value of what we had. Midland allowed me to take on leadership roles and be involved in many activities. The education I received here was excellent, and prepared me to flourish in college and beyond.
In middle school, I took part in musicals, plays, and choir. I loved to sing and being on stage was invigorating. However, I suppressed my love of theater in high school because, in the late nineties, there was a stigma around being a man who enjoyed things like choir or theater. At that time being gay was probably the “worst” thing that you could be in terms of being bullied in high school. Let's call it like it is: homophobia was prevalent in the 90’s, and if the little bit of stigma that I experienced as a straight man who liked the arts had that much effect on me, I couldn't imagine what some of my peers were experiencing.
In retrospect I do not believe I knew anyone who was “out” in high school, meaning that their fear of that stigma probably stopped them from being who they were openly, which is incredibly sad. I regretted not exploring those hobbies more extensively as a teenager, and now I've happily participated in many theater performances as an adult at the Midland Center for the Arts and elsewhere.
Theater is a wonderful way to express yourself artistically, and in my experience the friendships you make doing it are incredibly gratifying. So I am regretful that I had denied myself those experiences based on that fear. Having a theater presence helps out in the courtroom, too.
My wife, Elizabeth, and I love spending time with our two boys. Our older son, who's almost six, did young fives last year and starts kindergarten soon. We enrolled him in a nature-based young fives program at Bullock Creek, even though we don't necessarily live directly in that area. He loves being outside, and It was a good fit for him. We had a wonderful experience there and would highly recommend it. My younger son is a classic second child, terrorizing his older brother and us, while simultaneously being incredibly sweet. They are both, shockingly, big boys.
Looking forward, I hope Midland can retain core businesses like Dow and continue to flourish through people retention and an engaged base. A community is nothing without its people. We can continue to move Midland to the next level by working together.