Fifteen Eighty Four

Rural areas are struggling. Rural poverty is increasing as jobs in agriculture, manufacturing, and resource extraction dry up. Small communities are shrinking: losing churches, schools, dentists, doctors, and—the subject of this book—lawyers.

The worsening rural lawyer shortage is not new. What is new is the idea that we should do something to solve the crisis. State governments, courts, law schools, non-profits, state bar organizations, and individual small communities have stepped up, finding creative solutions to meet the legal needs of rural Americans and encourage lawyers to start rural practices. The first major program was established in South Dakota in 2013. That program, the Rural Attorney Recruitment Program (“RARP”), provides a stipend to lawyers who practice in rural communities.

As South Dakota’s program neared its tenth year, I wanted to know whether it was successful. I set out across South Dakota in 2022 and 2023 to interview all thirty-two lawyers who participated in RARP during its first ten years. I visited small firms, watched court, took photographs, attended city council meetings, toured an oil field, and generally soaked up the atmosphere of rural South Dakota.  By adding in interviews with mentors, state bar leaders, legislators, and others, I was able to learn the positives and negatives of RARP and life as a new rural lawyer.

A lot of resources have been invested into South Dakota’s program, and the question has always been whether a stipend would successfully encourage long-term rural practice. At the ten-year anniversary of the program, 75 percent of the lawyers remained in rural practice. I consider that a success, especially when you take into account how small of communities these lawyers are serving.

But just because most lawyers stayed does not mean life was always easy. Lawyers shared their difficulties with finances, community acceptance, mentorship, local politics, and lifestyle. Sometimes, those challenges led lawyers away from rural South Dakota into bigger legal markets. Other times lawyers persevered and successfully cultivated a rural practice. The challenges lawyers shared inspired the chapters of the book, each chapter addressing an aspect of rural practice.

When I set out to write this book, I had two goals. First, I wanted to provide a real analysis of whether a program like South Dakota’s RARP would be successful. Other jurisdictions are considering programs, and it is important to know how the country’s first incentive program fared. My second goal was to preserve the history of the first ten years of RARP. Once I started writing, I realized I could do something else as well—provide a picture of what it is like to be a new rural lawyer in America.

As the rural lawyer crisis continues to deepen, The Rural Lawyer offers an evidence-based perspective on the feasibility of rural lawyer incentive programs. I argue RARP has been a success and deserves replication in other jurisdictions, though I also take care to acknowledge the difficulties of life as a new rural lawyer. Containing photographs and charts, the book offers not only an academic perspective on the rural lawyer shortage, but also a human perspective on life in rural America.