One of the biggest challenges I have faced as president has been finding a topic to write about each month. As my term comes to a close and I write this final article, I keep returning to the phrase “live long and prosper.” Most of us recognize it as a pop-culture catchphrase, but it carries a deeper meaning.
Phrases like this one endure for a reason. On its face, “live long and prosper” is a wish for longevity and success. It is the kind of phrase that can greet, say goodbye, and bless all at once, making it especially fitting for my final article as president.
A Personal Reflection
I have been a member of this bar for 25 years. I have been active for most of that time. I have served on the board for more than a decade, and this year, I had the privilege of serving as president. Yet there are still moments when I walk into a room and feel like I do not quite belong.
That is not a new feeling for me. I have experienced it for most of my life, and if I am being honest, I do not fully understand it. Even now, I can find myself in a room full of colleagues feeling peripheral, anxious, and full of self-doubt. The story in my head starts: You do not fit in. You are an impostor. You have no place here.
If this is my experience after 25 years of service and a year as president, then I find myself wondering what other members of the bar may experience. The answer matters, not only because of what it may mean for individual members but because of what it may mean for the future of this organization.
The Bar as a Living Organization
An organization comes into existence through articles of incorporation, a name, and a set of bylaws, but those things alone do not make it alive. The bar lives through its people. In our bar, those people are our members, volunteers, staff, and leaders. Our members sustain us. Our leaders help shape our vision. Our staff and volunteers are our backbone. Together, we shape what this bar becomes.
Over the years, I have seen firsthand the dedication of our members. Our volunteers give their time to committees, plan events, mentor, and step into leadership roles. I have also seen our staff ‘s hard work, often behind the scenes. That is how an organization moves from existing to living, through the people who show up, engage, and invest in it.
Longevity and Prosperity Through Belonging
Belonging is a fundamental human need. It is the experience of feeling accepted, included, and valued by others. It is more than just fitting in. It is about finding a space where you feel comfortable being your authentic self.
For an organization, belonging matters because its longevity and prosperity depend on whether its people feel connected and invested in it. People are less likely to stay, engage, or invest where they do not feel they belong. Our sense of belonging is shaped internally by what we carry into the room and externally by how the room receives us.
What We Bring into the Room
For me, few films capture the social ache of not quite belonging as well as “Pretty in Pink.” It is a coming-of-age story about Andie Walsh, a bright, creative, working-class teenager living on the social margins of her high school. The film is not just about teenage love. It is also about social hierarchy, exclusion, insecurity, and the pain of being invited into a world that still does not fully feel like yours. That feeling is echoed in the film’s amazing soundtrack, including Suzanne Vega’s “Left of Center,” which gives language to the feeling of being “in the outskirts and in the fringes.”
I have felt like Andie more times than I would like to admit. It would be easy to blame the room and focus on how others should change, but I have said again and again that we cannot control others. We can only control ourselves. So I keep showing up. I keep pushing myself out of my comfort zone. I keep leaning on what Brian Little calls my “free traits.” Is it easy? No. Is it exhausting? Yes. Do I still have to rumble with the story I tell myself afterward? Absolutely.
Part of belonging begins within. It requires a willingness to remain connected to yourself, even in rooms where you feel uncertain. But it does not end there. Belonging is shaped not only by what we carry in but by how the room receives us.
What the Room Gives Back
Our bar has made real efforts to create opportunities, extend invitations, and open the door. Those efforts matter. But belonging is not created by structure alone. It is shaped by people — by how we receive one another, whether we notice who is standing alone, and the small choices that make a room feel more or less human.
Early in my career, when I was a brand new lawyer and had just joined the bar, I attended my first event. I walked in scared, alone, and insecure about how I would be received. A woman approached me, introduced herself, and took the time to bring me into conversations and introduce me to others. She made all the difference. She gave me an anchor. She made the room feel different. That difference kept me in the organization. It was a small act, one kind gesture from another human being, but it mattered. It reminded me that while organizations create the opportunity for connection, it is often the people in the room who help turn that opportunity into belonging.
A Blessing for the Bar
I have spent a lot of time thinking about leadership this year. My belief has always been that leadership is not about titles but about how we show up through our actions, presence, and engagement with others. It is something we model, not something we simply say. We are individuals, and we bring our own histories, personalities, and experiences into every room we enter. Some of us walk in with ease. Others walk in with hesitation. Some find connection quickly. Others take more time. Some may never get there.
There is no single way to solve that, but I believe we all play a role in shaping the experience of this organization. It is not solely the bar’s responsibility to create belonging, and it is not solely the individual’s responsibility to find it. It exists somewhere in between, in the space where we meet each other, receive one another, and choose how we will show up.
As I move from president to past president, I find myself returning once more to that phrase: “Live long and prosper.” I hope this bar continues to grow and evolve, remains strong and relevant, and lives long. But more than that, I hope it prospers in a way that cannot be measured by numbers alone. I hope it is a place where people feel seen, welcomed, and like they belong, however that may look for them. And I hope that each of us, myself included, continues to reflect on the role we play in creating that experience for others. Because in the end, this organization is not defined only by its structure or its programs. It is defined by us and how we choose to show up for ourselves and one another.
————————
Sarah E. Kuchon, of Hohauser Kuchon, is the 93rd president of the Oakland County Bar Association.
Phrases like this one endure for a reason. On its face, “live long and prosper” is a wish for longevity and success. It is the kind of phrase that can greet, say goodbye, and bless all at once, making it especially fitting for my final article as president.
A Personal Reflection
I have been a member of this bar for 25 years. I have been active for most of that time. I have served on the board for more than a decade, and this year, I had the privilege of serving as president. Yet there are still moments when I walk into a room and feel like I do not quite belong.
That is not a new feeling for me. I have experienced it for most of my life, and if I am being honest, I do not fully understand it. Even now, I can find myself in a room full of colleagues feeling peripheral, anxious, and full of self-doubt. The story in my head starts: You do not fit in. You are an impostor. You have no place here.
If this is my experience after 25 years of service and a year as president, then I find myself wondering what other members of the bar may experience. The answer matters, not only because of what it may mean for individual members but because of what it may mean for the future of this organization.
The Bar as a Living Organization
An organization comes into existence through articles of incorporation, a name, and a set of bylaws, but those things alone do not make it alive. The bar lives through its people. In our bar, those people are our members, volunteers, staff, and leaders. Our members sustain us. Our leaders help shape our vision. Our staff and volunteers are our backbone. Together, we shape what this bar becomes.
Over the years, I have seen firsthand the dedication of our members. Our volunteers give their time to committees, plan events, mentor, and step into leadership roles. I have also seen our staff ‘s hard work, often behind the scenes. That is how an organization moves from existing to living, through the people who show up, engage, and invest in it.
Longevity and Prosperity Through Belonging
Belonging is a fundamental human need. It is the experience of feeling accepted, included, and valued by others. It is more than just fitting in. It is about finding a space where you feel comfortable being your authentic self.
For an organization, belonging matters because its longevity and prosperity depend on whether its people feel connected and invested in it. People are less likely to stay, engage, or invest where they do not feel they belong. Our sense of belonging is shaped internally by what we carry into the room and externally by how the room receives us.
What We Bring into the Room
For me, few films capture the social ache of not quite belonging as well as “Pretty in Pink.” It is a coming-of-age story about Andie Walsh, a bright, creative, working-class teenager living on the social margins of her high school. The film is not just about teenage love. It is also about social hierarchy, exclusion, insecurity, and the pain of being invited into a world that still does not fully feel like yours. That feeling is echoed in the film’s amazing soundtrack, including Suzanne Vega’s “Left of Center,” which gives language to the feeling of being “in the outskirts and in the fringes.”
I have felt like Andie more times than I would like to admit. It would be easy to blame the room and focus on how others should change, but I have said again and again that we cannot control others. We can only control ourselves. So I keep showing up. I keep pushing myself out of my comfort zone. I keep leaning on what Brian Little calls my “free traits.” Is it easy? No. Is it exhausting? Yes. Do I still have to rumble with the story I tell myself afterward? Absolutely.
Part of belonging begins within. It requires a willingness to remain connected to yourself, even in rooms where you feel uncertain. But it does not end there. Belonging is shaped not only by what we carry in but by how the room receives us.
What the Room Gives Back
Our bar has made real efforts to create opportunities, extend invitations, and open the door. Those efforts matter. But belonging is not created by structure alone. It is shaped by people — by how we receive one another, whether we notice who is standing alone, and the small choices that make a room feel more or less human.
Early in my career, when I was a brand new lawyer and had just joined the bar, I attended my first event. I walked in scared, alone, and insecure about how I would be received. A woman approached me, introduced herself, and took the time to bring me into conversations and introduce me to others. She made all the difference. She gave me an anchor. She made the room feel different. That difference kept me in the organization. It was a small act, one kind gesture from another human being, but it mattered. It reminded me that while organizations create the opportunity for connection, it is often the people in the room who help turn that opportunity into belonging.
A Blessing for the Bar
I have spent a lot of time thinking about leadership this year. My belief has always been that leadership is not about titles but about how we show up through our actions, presence, and engagement with others. It is something we model, not something we simply say. We are individuals, and we bring our own histories, personalities, and experiences into every room we enter. Some of us walk in with ease. Others walk in with hesitation. Some find connection quickly. Others take more time. Some may never get there.
There is no single way to solve that, but I believe we all play a role in shaping the experience of this organization. It is not solely the bar’s responsibility to create belonging, and it is not solely the individual’s responsibility to find it. It exists somewhere in between, in the space where we meet each other, receive one another, and choose how we will show up.
As I move from president to past president, I find myself returning once more to that phrase: “Live long and prosper.” I hope this bar continues to grow and evolve, remains strong and relevant, and lives long. But more than that, I hope it prospers in a way that cannot be measured by numbers alone. I hope it is a place where people feel seen, welcomed, and like they belong, however that may look for them. And I hope that each of us, myself included, continues to reflect on the role we play in creating that experience for others. Because in the end, this organization is not defined only by its structure or its programs. It is defined by us and how we choose to show up for ourselves and one another.
————————
Sarah E. Kuchon, of Hohauser Kuchon, is the 93rd president of the Oakland County Bar Association.
