I have always enjoyed watching Jerry Seinfeld’s show, Comedians in Cars Getting Coffee. There is something refreshing about that format. It is not about the heavy, polished subjects; it is about the candid, unscripted conversations that happen when you just get people talking about their lives and the real work they do. That is the exact vibe I wanted to capture with the Texas Lawyer Podcast.

 

 

Why We’re Humanizing the Practice

 

Let us be honest about our profession. Lawyers do not always have the best reputation. We are often viewed by the public as cold, detached, or purely transactional figures hidden behind expensive suits and thick case files. But that has not been my experience. The lawyers I know, the ones who are doing the real work every day, are motivated by things like empathy, narrative, and service. This podcast is my way of showing the real people behind the suits and exploring the nobility of the practice we chose.

 

To help us get to the heart of what this profession is really about, I sat down with an esteemed colleague, Cheryl Miller. We actually first crossed paths while I was acting as opposing counsel on a particularly difficult family law case. I was impressed with her immediately, not just because of her competence in the courtroom, but because of her overall manner and approach to the law. Cheryl recently finished her term as the president of the Williamson County Bar Association, and she is the type of advocate who truly understands that our job is about more than just winning an argument. It is about crafting a narrative that serves the family, not just the docket. I am so glad she could join me to share her story. 

 

The Unconventional Path

 

One of the most refreshing parts of my conversation with Cheryl Miller was hearing her personal journey. When you look at her professional background, it is clear that her path into the practice of law was anything but a straight line. She spent ten years working as a 10th-grade English teacher and a drill team director. It is easy to think of a lawyer as someone who has lived strictly within the confines of law school and the courtroom, but Cheryl is proof that our best insights often come from elsewhere.

 

She did not just stumble into this career. She told me about watching the O.J. Simpson trial back in 1994. Like many of us, she was fascinated by Johnny Cochran. It was not just about the legal strategy, but the way he could take a set of facts and craft a narrative that made sense to a jury. That sparked something in her. She went to law school at Ohio State, but she spent those early years trying to find her footing. She tried the corporate world, doing stocks and mergers in Dallas, and she even interned in criminal law. She hated both. She was honest about it. Those areas simply did not fit her personality or her goals.

 

So, she quit. She walked away from the legal world for a decade and poured her energy into education. She even earned her Master’s degree at Dallas Baptist. She thought that was her life path, and she was happy there. It was only when life circumstances brought her back to this area that she decided to pick up her law degree again and give the practice of law another shot.

 

It is fascinating to me because I share that same background. I was a teacher before I practiced law. There is a common thread here that I think is vital for anyone considering this profession. Teaching is not just about the curriculum. It is about building relationships, setting clear expectations, and serving the community. When you are standing in a courtroom, you are often acting as a teacher for your client. You are guiding them through a process that is foreign and often terrifying. You have to explain complex rules and help them set realistic expectations for their family’s future. Cheryl and I both agree that those diverse life experiences do not distract from our work as advocates. They make us better at it. They keep us grounded. 

 

The “Johnny Cochran” Lesson

 

We often talk about the law as a series of statutes, rules, and procedures. But when I asked Cheryl Miller what first drew her into this world, she took me back to 1994. She was in high school at the time, living in Killeen, and like millions of others, she found herself glued to the television for the O.J. Simpson trial.

 

She mentions the infamous white Ford Bronco low-speed chase that heavily interrupted the broadcast of Game 5 of the 1994 NBA Finals on June 17, 1994 as the catalyst for her interest in the case. What struck her was not just the legal strategy, but the presence of Johnny Cochran. She remembers vividly how the trial was so compelling. However, it was not just a legal proceeding; it was a cultural moment that forced everyone to pay attention. For Cheryl, watching Cochran was a masterclass in the power of storytelling.

 

She observed how he could take a set of facts and weave them into a narrative that made sense to a jury. He had a way of presenting an explanation that forced people to stop and second-guess their own assumptions. That was the spark. She realized then that the law is not strictly about statutes or binary outcomes. It is about how you present the client’s story.

 

In the years since, Cheryl has carried that lesson into her own practice. When we work in family law, we are not just arguing who gets what in a divorce. We are crafting a narrative that helps a judge understand a family’s reality. It is not enough to simply list grievances. We have to paint a picture. We have to show the human side of the conflict. Because when we can effectively tell our client’s story, it changes the entire tenor of the case. It moves us from a cold, transactional process into something that actually serves the family. 

 

The Changing Landscape of Practice

 

When we look at how the practice is evolving, it is impossible to ignore the role of technology. Cheryl Miller actually teaches legal research in the paralegal department at Austin Community College (ACC), so she has a front-row seat to how the next generation is learning these skills. We had a good laugh comparing our early days to what students have now. Back when we were starting, you had to go to the library, open a physical book, and dig through the pages to find your answer. Today, you just plug a citation into Lexis or Westlaw, and the system hands you the answer on a silver platter.

 

But here is the danger, and it is something we both feel strongly about. Technology like AI is incredibly efficient, but it can also be a shortcut that leads you astray. It can hallucinate cases that do not exist, or it can take a tiny, insignificant sentence from a judge (what we call dicta) and treat it like it is the core holding of the entire case. You cannot automate critical thinking. You still need a human who is trained to spot the truth, understand the nuance, and apply the law correctly. AI can provide the information, but it cannot provide the judgment.

 

Practicing law, particularly family law, is heavy work. It takes a toll. The dockets are crowded, and sometimes you are fighting for two hours of time to resolve someone’s entire family future. I asked Cheryl what advice she would give to someone just starting out, and she gave me the best answer possible: give yourself grace. You will have hard cases. You will have days where the dockets are backed up and you cannot get the hearing time you need. You will feel the weight of your clients’ lives on your shoulders. You have to remember that you are a human being, not a machine. You are doing the best you can, and that has to be enough. 

 

Why McGirr Law Aligns with this Approach

 

My conversation with Cheryl Miller confirmed something I have felt for a long time. The way we practice law is not just about the final ruling. It is about the people we serve and the lives that are being reshaped in our office. At McGirr Law, we operate on that same philosophy. We see the legal system as a tool to help families navigate transition, not as a weapon to tear them apart.

 

We reject the idea of the scorched-earth court battle. When you have children involved, every move you make has a lasting impact on their future. That is why we emphasize strategic problem-solving and mediation whenever possible. We are not interested in fueling a fight just for the sake of winning an argument. We are interested in preserving the long-term health of your family.

 

We know that court is sometimes necessary, but it should not be your first stop. Like Cheryl Miller and I discussed, if we can reach a resolution through mediation, we save our clients time, money, and unnecessary emotional stress. If you are looking for a team that prioritizes your family’s future over a fight, I invite you to see how we work. You can browse our practice areas at McGirrLaw.com to see how we apply this human-centered approach to real-world cases. 

 

Closing Arguments

 

My conversation with Cheryl Miller reminded me why I started this podcast in the first place. We talk so much about the mechanics of the law, the statutes, and the courtroom drama, but that is not the full picture. At the end of the day, our profession is really just a profession of people helping other people. Whether we are in the classroom or the courtroom, we are ultimately serving the community and guiding families through their most difficult transitions. It takes patience, it takes grace, and most importantly, it takes the ability to see the human being on the other side of the legal issue.

 

 

You can listen to the full episode of the Texas Lawyer Podcast here. I hope you find as much value in our conversation as I did. If you have a takeaway or a lesson from your own career path, I would love to hear it. Please let us know in the comments below. And if you are currently navigating a family law matter and need an advocate who prioritizes your family’s future over a court battle, we are here to help.

 

…With that, we are adjourned for today!