I did not set out to become a lawyer. There were no attorneys in my family — none in my immediate or extended circle. For much of my childhood, and even into young adulthood, higher education itself felt out of reach. The idea of law school was not just distant; it was unrealistic.

I attended Wayne State University for my undergraduate degree, living at home and working while taking classes in the evenings. It was there that I began to understand that education — and with it, opportunity — might be possible. Discovering federal student loans opened a door I hadn’t known existed. A law degree, once seemingly impossible, began to look like a path to something I needed deeply: stability and control over my future.

The daughter of first-generation Palestinian immigrants (and later proud U.S. citizens), my desire for a career and independence was at odds with our traditional culture and definition of women’s work. A family friend told me not to even bother trying to get into law school.

Instead of deterring me, their opposition inspired me to try even harder.

I attended two events recently that brought me back to these memories and got me thinking about the role of women in the legal profession.

First, I attended the Michigan Supreme Court Historical Society’s annual meeting, where attorney, historian, and author Lynn Liberato educated us all on the “Con-Con’s Petticoat Revolt.” For those of you who are unfamiliar, she discussed the groundbreaking women who served as delegates to Michigan’s 1961-1962 Constitutional Convention.¹

A week later, I served on a “First, But Not the Last” panel discussion hosted by the Women Lawyers Association of Michigan during their annual meeting. While I am the first Palestinian American to serve as president of the State Bar of Michigan, I am also just the ninth woman.

The duo of events made me realize that while it is often easier to think about the challenges faced by women in the past tense, the reality is that challenges still exist.

Nationally, women now make up about 41% of all lawyers — a number that has grown steadily but still falls short of parity.² At the same time, women have become the majority in key entry points to the profession: More than half of law students are women, and women now make up the majority of law firm associates and federal government lawyers.³

Yet those gains have not fully translated upward. Women remain underrepresented in law firm partnerships, the judiciary, and other senior leadership roles.⁴

Michigan reflects many of these same dynamics.

Among active Michigan attorneys, men account for 20,087 (58.79%), while women make up 12,685 (37.13%). But among those who joined the State Bar in the last 10 years, the numbers are much closer: 49.15% men (3,497) and 47.74% women (3,397).⁵

The pipeline is changing. The question is whether the profession is changing with it.

Because representation is not just about who enters the law — it is about who stays, who advances, and who feels that they belong once they arrive. The data shows progress, but it also suggests friction: movement at the entry level, slower change at the top.

That tension is not new.

Ruth Bader Ginsburg graduated at the top of her class and still struggled to find employment because she was a woman. Her career became a study in persistence — incrementally dismantling barriers that had long been accepted as fixed. Her observation that women belong “in all places where decisions are being made” remains both a statement of principle and an ongoing challenge.⁶

And let’s be clear: Women bring more than diversity to leadership. They improve the legal profession in part because women statistically score higher in core competencies such as team development, taking initiative, resilience, handling crises, collaboration, and empathy.⁷

While the statistics clearly show we in the legal profession have work to do — we also have significant gains to celebrate.

While I am the ninth woman to serve as SBM president, current President-elect Erika L. Bryant will take the reins next year as the 10th woman president (but only the second Black woman to hold the office), and Board Secretary Suzanne C. Larson is slated in 2029 to become the 11th woman president (and the first woman from the Upper Peninsula elected to the seat).

In fact, this is a historic year for woman attorneys in the state of Michigan.

For the first time ever, women occupy every top seat in the legal profession: I am joined by Michigan Supreme Court Chief Justice Megan K. Cavanagh, Gov. Gretchen Whitmer, Attorney General Dana Nessel, Secretary of State Jocelyn Benson, and State Bar Representative Assembly Chair Nicole Evans.

Today, we are seeing the results of the work of women who did not wait for permission and insisted on being included in shaping Michigan’s future.⁸ The legacy of the women of the 1961-62 Constitutional Convention (and many others) is not just that they were present — it is that they expanded what participation looked like.

Because of them, more women are visible in leadership, more women are entering the profession, and the trajectory is moving in the right direction.

That is real progress, and I am proud of our profession for taking real meaningful steps forward.

The task ahead is not simply to acknowledge progress but to sustain it — to ensure that the profession continues to evolve in ways that are not only more inclusive but more supportive and more durable.

For those of us who were told we didn’t belong, the work is not just to prove otherwise — but to make sure the next generation never has to.