In February 1990 I entered the legal profession as a barrister’s clerk in Birmingham. Little did I know that I had become Birmingham’s first black barrister’s clerk. My background was far from typical. My working life had been a series of transitions, beginning on building sites where I learned the plastering trade, to the more polished if not entirely welcoming world of banking.
Banking was my first step away from the building sites. It wasn’t easy to make the leap, but I took up a banking messenger post, thinking it was a way out of the dust and grit. The transition was jarring. The formality of the banking world, the crisp suits, and the precise language felt alien to me at first. However, I was determined to succeed, so I worked hard, asked questions and learnt as much as I could. Slowly I moved up, becoming a supervisor. I was learning to navigate this new world, even if I didn’t fully feel like I belonged.
It was during this time that I met my new neighbour Rod Neeld, We were next door neighbours. Rod was a senior barristers clerk, a distinguished man with a deep voice and a sharp mind. I would often see him leaving home early in the morning, briefcase in hand, dressed in a suit that seemed to fit the contours of his life perfectly. We would exchange pleasantries in the morning but our lives were worlds apart until one evening when we were having a drink [one weekend]in our local pub.
“Have you ever considered being a barristers clerk?” The question caught me off guard. I knew nothing about clerking, let alone what one did in a set of chambers. But something about the way he asked made me think he saw something in me that I hadn’t yet seen in myself.
Joining chambers as a clerk was like stepping into a different universe. The atmosphere was intense, charged with the energy of barristers preparing cases, the weight of legal precedents and the hum of conversations that could change lives.
The chambers were steeped in tradition, dominated by people who didn’t look like me or come from my background. But I was there and I was determined to make It work.
Rod’s junior clerk at the time was Mark Mansell. He was the one that showed me the mechanics of the job, how to conduct myself, and how not to make the same mistake twice. The job was challenging. I was responsible for managing case files, liaising with solicitors, court listing officers, and ensuring that barristers had everything they needed to argue their case. The work required meticulous attention to detail and an ability to juggle multiple tasks at once. These were skills I had developed in banking, though the stakes here felt much higher. I wasn’t dealing with numbers, I was handling people’s lives.
As the years went by I grew more comfortable in my role. I earned the respect of my colleagues and the barristers I worked with. The chambers became my second home, a place where I found not just a career but a sense of belonging.
Over the years that I have been clerking, I have forged trusted relationships with barristers, some of whom have become Circuit Judges and High Court Judges. These individuals, now lifelong friends, still keep in touch, reflecting the deep bonds we’ve built over the decades.
As I reflect on my journey, I see myself as a role model, particularly for aspiring young black professionals. I hope my short story encourages them to step into spaces where they may be the first but certainly won’t be the last. The legal profession is richer for its diversity and I’m proud to have played a part in paving the way for others,
