Negotiation Skills and Political Abilities: Fireside Chat with Shauna Clark

Thank you, Noam, and thanks for having me, Carolyn.

Absolutely, and again thank you so much for having me. I'm so impressed with the work that you and the entire team at Women in Governance are accomplishing, and I will be a big supporter of this organization and your mission going forward. So my career started in 1991 when I joined the firm as an intern, and I was later hired in 1994. During the summer programs when we were recruited, there were just so many people—you got to know everyone. I just fell in love with the firm and the people. But when I started, I realized that I was the only African American woman in the entire office, the only African American lawyer in the entire office. While there were other women and there was another Black man, there was no one who looked like me. And so for that first year, I found it to be a very isolating experience, and in part because at the time I thought in order for me to be successful, I needed to have a mentor or sponsor who looked just like me. And since she wasn't there, I didn't need to be there. I confessed—and I've shared this—that I just thought there was another firm, a minority-owned firm, that's where I needed to be. The Lord didn't open any doors there, so I just bloomed where I was planted. And I had an opportunity to step back and realize that in my naivety, I had failed to appreciate that I had the best sponsor anyone—woman, male, person of color or not—could ever have. He was one of the most powerful, influential partners in the entire firm at the time. He gave me his stamp of approval. Bob Vanbeek—if you know me and if I've talked at all about my career, I can't not mention him because he was pivotal for me. Now, I want to say it made me realize that Bob and I didn't go to drinks and we didn't hang out on the weekend—and that's what I was thinking at the time. Being 24 years old, I thought a mentor was essentially a girlfriend, someone to do fun things with, almost a therapist. Vanbeek made it clear that he was committed to my success early on, but that didn't mean it was easy. I had to do what he told me to do, and that's one issue. Carolyn, we talked about the importance of being a good protege—it's difficult to find someone who will just do what you ask them to do. In the '90s, I didn't ask him why he was asking me to do what he wanted me to do, or 'why are you picking on me, why do I have to go to this dinner and those guys don't have to go.' I never questioned that he was singling me out for any other reason but that it was for my benefit. And I did what he told me to do. I went where he told me to go. And now when I look back on that relationship, he was preparing me for the meetings when I would be the only Black woman in the boardroom—because when he was inviting me to all of these dinners, I literally was probably for sure the youngest person by 25 years and the only Black woman, sitting at a table with all of these influential people. He wanted to make sure I had the skills to not only be a good lawyer, a good practitioner—that was just expected. No one gives you credit for being an excellent lawyer; that's just the cost of admission. To be successful, to be able to establish relationships with clients and with your colleagues where you become a trusted advisor both inside and outside of the organization—that takes time and practice. And he started that my first year. Since then, I've had many different very important, very influential white men who've mentored me. And in turn, I have then mentored white males to partnership, white females, people of color. But I follow the roadmap that he set—I make sure that I provide as many opportunities to be successful. But I'll tell you, not everyone is looking to accept those opportunities. And so, in the words of some of my kids, when given the shot, you have to take it. And if you don't take it, then you can't later complain that someone else is getting more opportunities than you've been given.

Because I was waiting for me, right? I mean, I was also waiting for me. And sometimes what we seek, we have the ability to become just for someone else. But absolutely, and that's what I think trips us—particularly women. And I just had this conversation with one of my friends over the holidays. She'd asked me to introduce her to powerful Black women, you know, general counsels or C-suite individuals. And I said, absolutely, I will make the introduction to those I know. But are you limiting yourself? I said, because I can think of three people who you may not have anything in common with, but they can teach you everything you need to know about the next step in your career. I said, or you could tell me to stay in my lane and just give you what you've asked for. But I challenged her to think broader than that, because that's how I've lived that experience. And I think the difficulty, Carolyn, is when you are a protege and your mentor is someone with whom you have very little in common, only that one critical component: that both of you are interested and invested in your success. It means as a protege, you have to work harder to establish the relationship. You have to be willing that when he or she is unable to meet with you or cancels a meeting at the last minute, that's just a delayed conversation, that's just a delayed meeting. And you have to put more into that relationship in order to make it more comfortable. And that is finding things—issues, beliefs—that you have in common. And considering we're all human, I know that after you get to know someone, it does not really matter whether you're on one side of the political spectrum or the other. You will find things other than that critical component—the two of you being invested in your success—other things that you have in common. But it requires work. And there's a sense—and I see this in the organization—that the corporation or the firm should provide this relationship, that everyone should have a sponsor. And I agree with that. I think corporations and law firms should identify individuals who have the influence and the gravitas to help propel individuals to the next step. But at the end of the day, it's on each of us to make the effort to make those connections. Because at the end of the day, you don't really want to go to bat for someone that you don't know, that you have no reason to put your time and effort in for. For me, it was the providence of God with respect to Vanbeek, because he literally put his stamp of approval on me. And he was going around the firm—I was a first-year lawyer—saying, 'Have you met that Shauna Johnson? She's going to be our partner.' Literally calling people up. And so these partners would come from New York—this is when we were a national firm—and just stop by and say, 'Vanbeek was up, and he said I had to come in and meet you. So I'm Bill Bush, how are you?' 'I'm fine, thank you, it's good to meet you.' That's the difference between a mentor and a sponsor. One of my very great friends, Gina Shashima, states that a sponsor literally puts you on his or her shoulders and carries you through. And they have the wherewithal to do that. So I model what he does. I have great relationships with people on our management committee or our committees. And so when I know they're in the office—when Daryl Lansdale was our managing partner, 'Daryl, I want to make sure you know Heather. She's my right hand. Where Heather goes, I go, so we need to make sure Heather is happy.' Or Richard Chromholz, the global head of disputes—when he's in, 'I want to make sure you understand that Jessica Blanco just argued this motion for summary judgment for this great client.' That's what we have to do. And so that's the sponsor's role, and it takes time out of our busy schedules. But it's important.

You know, I will tell you, it was just 25 years of putting myself last, frankly. And I don't want to give anyone the impression that we can't have it all—and someone said, but maybe not all at the same time. But for me, I recognized that there were sacrifices to be made and choices to be made. And I didn't hold the firm hostage, nor did I hold my husband hostage. I look back now and think, you know what, you could have helped me more. But here's one thing I thought about, and this is true for many women with demanding careers and children: we have to show up just like the men on the team. So if I'm presenting to a client with one of my colleagues at 7 a.m., at 7 a.m. I'm going to be there—hair and makeup, everything ready to go, just like my colleague. It's not his fault that getting there for seven—he maybe took his shower at 6:15, grabbed his coffee, and went on, because his wife or someone else is there to take care of the kids. I made the choice that if I'm going to show up at 7 a.m., my morning has to start at 4:15. And yes, it's stressful—and 'where's my notebook?' or 'why did you move this?'—and all of this. And I tell folks all the time: do you know what it's like? It's an obstacle course. I have to maneuver around five different personalities in the morning. Each of them may be up doing whatever, but that's my choice. And so I'm not angry, nor do I feel as if the firm or the client or the audience owes me a gold star, because just like him, I was able to get there even though I had all of this. Because that's my life, that's how I organized it. But I made it a point, and the reason why I've been at Norton Rose Fulbright for 28 years is because the firm understood, even as a young lawyer, what my family meant to me. They knew it was God, my husband, my children, and then the firm. And I ordered my life along those priorities. I made my family just as important as I made the firm and our clients. When I schedule a hearing or trial, it's on the schedule, and I make sure I am there. I schedule the things that were important to the kids. And my kids and my husband didn't resent what I do or the firm—in fact, they're very, very proud of the firm. I remember I was trying this big case, and I would test the jury with my kids or give my opening statements. And in this very difficult multi-plaintiff discrimination case, I was giving the opening statement, and my daughter said, 'I want to work for the company.' And I was like, okay. Notwithstanding all these really difficult allegations, she wanted to work for this company. It's like, I think I'm going to win this trial because I've convinced this ten-year-old that when she grows up she wants to be a trucker. But at any rate, they are part of the firm, and the firm is a part of my family. And so that's how I've made it work. Now, that doesn't mean that I don't have the same guilt that many people—I have guilt offerings. I used to, when I would travel, bring back all of this stuff, like I could buy my way out. And to a certain extent, I still do that. I still have to bargain when I'm going to be away. I have a trip to London next week for a group supervisory board, and I'm already talking to my ten-year-old about what's going to happen when I'm not there. Mind you, my husband is retired, he is home every day, but that's how we've ordered this family—I'm the primary caregiver, and that is a role that I cherish. And it's not the firm's fault or my clients' fault that I've made those decisions. So now that I'm in my 50s, I am more comfortable with boundaries that I didn't have, that I wasn't comfortable setting 20 years ago. Life feels easier, the kids are older. But it's very difficult to balance it all. I think good communication and setting clear expectations—that helps. But more than that, the world has changed.

Well, I will tell you—and I hope this is not taken the wrong way because of the devastation of the pandemic—but for me personally, I didn't mind staying home, and it was a relief as far as I didn't have to travel as much. Carolyn, before the pandemic, I literally was traveling at least twice a week—I was out with clients or firm meetings three times a week, every week, and it was just exhausting. I was traveling so much that I remember once I was headed to the wrong airport and I missed my flight. So putting aside the devastation and all of the loss, being forced to sit still actually gave me an opportunity to exhale and to reorder my priorities. I don't understand how I was able to keep the pace I kept. But I do know myself well enough to know that I won't keep that pace going forward. But I think so many people have come to the same realization that our new world is going to be very different. And let's hope we can keep the best of both worlds and we don't go back to our old habits.

So here's what I say, particularly to the women who are very good at negotiating on behalf of others: that is, for me, the foundation that makes me at this point comfortable negotiating on my behalf. Because when you have a track record of going to bat for others, you've built—there's integrity around your requests, and the people who set comp will understand and appreciate that. The other point, though, it comes down to valuing what you bring to the organization. And there are certain situations where the organization may simply not value you, and that means you need to leave. There is an organization that will value you. But I know what I am great at, and I know the areas of opportunity. The firm has set a value on certain things, certain metrics, and they are willing to compensate—and our remuneration programs are focused around those metrics. And so I make sure that I am excellent on those metrics. Sometimes we, as women and others, we value contributions that the organization doesn't value. And so I had this conversation with my husband when he was working. He was an executive and an international tax lawyer, and in his role he was asked to help on this international pension that would require him to go to London three times a week for a week. And we were talking—he's like, 'I don't think these other executives understand what I do.' And I said, 'No, they understand what you do for that pension. They don't respect it and they don't value it.' I said, 'They don't value it. You value it, and the people you're working for value it.' And I said, 'This is not just a female-male thing. Your executives, your CEO, your C-suite—they are all very sophisticated, and they were all men, very sophisticated men. They know what you're doing. They don't value it, so stop doing it.' And he had to acknowledge that—well, he liked doing it. I mean, he's going to London for a week with no kids and no wife, so he placed a lot of value on it. And so for us, when we're negotiating—whether it's a position or whatever—we need to make sure that we clearly...

With self-reflection, we identify what we're good at and our performance. And once that's done, it's a very simple ask. I don't feel I have made what some at the firm would say in years past were outrageous asks. One of my partners said, 'Shauna, I don't even understand how you could make that ask.' He was a very senior lawyer. He said, 'I would be blushing, I would be stumbling. Maybe it's because you're a litigator.' I thought, well, just do what you think is appropriate. They did not agree, but my compensation was awesome. I made that ask, and it wasn't personal. Sometimes we make it very personal. I'm not a pro at this — I've just come to this point over the last five years. I'll say it's because the firm has been very generous to me, and that doesn't come on its own.

Know your audience. I was a bit concerned about stepping into the global chair role without having spent a lot of time in the US chair role, because I didn't have an opportunity to observe the other chairs. But know your audience — you have to modulate your voice and fit your ask to the personality of the person. That should be easy because the person setting your compensation is probably your one-level supervisor, and over the year you should have had opportunities to get to know that person and their style. There are certain people who want a very direct style. I had the same partner — I said, 'When you're delivering a conversation, you make a sandwich: say something good, then give them the meat, whatever is difficult, and then something else good.' He said, 'I don't want to do that. I just want to say it.' So if I were presenting to him, I would walk in — just the facts: this is what I've done, these are my KPIs. But for someone like me, I talk too much, I'm very expressive, I want to know the story — you could come in and embellish and I'm going to hang on every word, every anecdote, because I like people and I like to engage. First and foremost, you need to know your audience, and you prepare your ask based on that. I prepare for our compensation meetings all year. I am constantly talking to different people, asking questions, and I'm happy to get report cards from clients — 'How did I do?' Some of us don't want critical or constructive feedback. If you avoid it and you've not received it all year, and you go in valuing yourself but you've not seen the other side, that's going to be a very difficult conversation. For me, negotiation and politics — we all need to have a tribe, a network. I have very good friends in the firm that I use very effectively on behalf of other people. I can call Richard Krumholz to say, 'Richard, I need to talk to you offline about X.'

No, I didn't. I didn't know what imposter syndrome was until a client mentioned it a few years ago. I didn't have that sense of 'I am not good at what I do.' In fact, after I tried my first case, I was looking at some of my partners thinking I could go head-to-head with them. That wasn't my issue. I started with two white men — I never thought they were better than me. Where I struggled was, other than Van Bebber, I didn't feel I had a group of people who would be willing to drop what they're doing and get in the trenches with me. I didn't speak with the boldness I speak today because I had to earn that. I've always known to modulate my voice. What I've never failed to do is speak up when I heard a partner or anyone disparaging someone else. I don't think that's right. My mom told me, 'If they're talking about someone when you leave, they're talking about you.' So I've never participated in that conversation. I struggled with the fact that the margin of error for Black women, particularly people of color and women, is so narrow. I was always afraid of making a mistake and getting fired. So I always over-prepared, I modulated my voice, and I waited until I had earned the respect of people. I've seen folks walk into the organization two months in and they want to tell you what's wrong. I'm thinking, first of all, you don't know what you're talking about because you don't know these people. But second, what have you done to earn the voice you have?

Again, I think in the beginning you just listen more than you speak. After a while you will be able to discern what motivates individuals. Some are motivated by money — that's it. Some are motivated by power and prestige. Some want none of that. Once you learn what motivates the people around you, what their interests are, what they're passionate about, then you become an ally to them on that issue. For me, I had a heart for associates and wanting equitable treatment across the firm. When Richard Krumholz was chair of our associate committee, he understood that, so I worked closely with him. The bottom line is, once you find out what folks are motivated by, that's when servant leadership comes in. This isn't about sucking up — it's how can you help someone with whatever they're dealing with. Once you offer yourself with no hidden agenda, you're just doing what is good to build the organization. You have a need, I have capacity, I'm going to help you, and you may never have to help me again — but that is always going to pay dividends. I'm a keeper of secrets. My partners believe I have good judgment on people issues. Folks will come to me and I'll give them as much time as I give a client. That's how you build a political network. Then you can have offline conversations: 'My protégée messed up — I need you to give her another chance.' I fight for women and people of color to have the same opportunity and oxygen to bounce back from mistakes. That means putting yourself out there on behalf of people. Carolyn, one point I want to make — women are at the table. We are at the table, and some of us do not use our voice at all. I've had conversations brought to me after decisions were made, and I would ask, 'Who's on the committee?' I've gone to partners and asked, 'Why didn't you speak up?' If you're more concerned about keeping the little that you have, then don't take a role on a committee, because you're called to call balls and strikes and to speak back to power. The firm expects that. For me, they used to be surprised, then they tolerated it, now they expect it. Even as a senior associate, I was called in to investigate partner issues because they knew I was a keeper of secrets. I demonstrated my judgment early on. I would sit in front of the most influential partners and say, 'I don't understand what you were thinking.' At one point, some partners relied too much on my willingness to deliver bad news, so I stopped. I said, 'No, you can't just use me like that.' If we are at the table and you're afraid to speak up for what's right, it's not your time yet. How do we make sure we have an inclusive culture that makes every voice heard? That means having conversations with associates, counsel, and senior counsel to understand what concerns folks. I'll give one short example. We had made a decision some years ago — our management committee decided we were not going to increase salaries. I went to drinks that night with my team — I'm very proud of my team, I think I have the best-functioning team in the firm, who happen to be very diverse — and they were complaining about comp. I was shocked. So I sent a note to the CFO and the managing committee: 'I know what we discussed, I know how I voted, but I had a conversation and my folks will call balls and strikes. We need to talk again.' The next day we had another management committee meeting. I said, 'I'm agnostic as to which way we go. It doesn't matter how much time we spent on this yesterday. We need to always demonstrate to our people that we will pivot and be nimble and listen even when a decision has already been made.' Everyone was frustrated that I was opening it up again, but that's how I lead. I did it because I feel passionate about using my voice. At the end of the day, we did go with the associates and give them what they wanted. But I wasn't trying to get a win — I wanted to go back to my folks and say, 'I heard you, we talked about it, we reconsidered it,' and I would have been fine either way. You can't walk into an organization ready to be on the management committee. You have to lay the foundation and find that confidence, that boldness. If you don't have it, don't take up a spot on those committees — let someone else who is willing do it. I no longer care about being liked. Well, I don't think I've ever really cared about being liked. It used to hurt my feelings when I thought people misunderstood my motivations. Now I never question that.

It's just as easy to send a note to someone and say, 'Do you have 15 minutes for a virtual coffee? I just want to introduce myself to you.' That may seem like a cold call or it's awkward, but it's what you would do if you were in the office. Zoom has made that a bit easier. You have to be an ogre to say, 'No, I don't have 15 minutes.' Just ask for 15 minutes and have three questions ready: your elevator speech — how do you describe what you do in 30 seconds — then tell me about your career, I want to understand how you got where you are, and then thank them for their time and say you hope to chat again. Someone asked how do I select a mentor. Here's what I did: all I wanted when I joined Fulbright & Jaworski was for Frank Jones and Reagan Brown and Jim Sales to think I was a good trial lawyer. I didn't care about making partner. I just wanted to be a good trial lawyer. So I found a sponsor, and they didn't even know they were sponsoring me. I went to watch Reagan Brown pick a jury. Sometimes people can sponsor you or mentor you without any conversations — you just watch what they do. I identified folks in the firm whose practice I wanted to emulate. Van Bebber and Steve Pfeiffer — they had great clients who loved them and wanted to spend time with them. You identify someone whose professional characteristics you wish to emulate, and then you work on it. It is literally planting seeds.

I am the queen of asking for help, and I tailor the ask depending on my audience. When people come to me for help, if I can't give them the help, I'll sit and brainstorm — let's see who we can identify to help you, and I'm happy to make that introduction. Just asking for help — very easy. But here's the thing, Carolyn: some folks will say, and it's probably true, that I'm too open, I'm too transparent. But when you get to the point where you know there's nothing anyone could judge you on — I make mistakes, I have great wins, but I'm still Shauna Clark at the end of the day — then you don't mind sharing. Many folks are fearful of being vulnerable. I'm not an island. I have a tribe of people who spend far more of their time helping Shauna Clark be Shauna Clark. If you can show your vulnerability, it makes you a lot more human, a lot more relatable, and I think that's how you can help people best.

Thank you so much, Carolyn.