Ashlie Sletvold

Sponsored by RebuttalPR

What initially inspired you to specialize in plaintiff personal injury law, and how has your motivation evolved over the years?

I started my career following the traditional path of meritocracy straight into Big Law. Coming from a family without lawyers—I don't think I knew a single lawyer when I applied to law school—I simply followed the conventional route. I did on-campus interviews and joined the biggest law firm in Cleveland, where I knew I wanted to live.

I spent five years representing manufacturers in product-liability cases, and at some point, through various outcomes I wasn't proud of, I remembered that I didn't go to law school to help corporations keep their money. That wasn't what 22-year-old Ashlie was looking to do, yet somehow that's what 29-year-old Ashlie had been doing.

So, I joined a plaintiff's civil-rights litigation boutique here in Cleveland, where I spent 10 years representing individuals in Section 1983 and Title VII cases. Then, five years ago, I joined Peiffer Wolf and transitioned back into the product-liability space on the plaintiffs’ side.

What made me decide to join Peiffer Wolf? I was recruited to join the firm, and it took me a while because it sounded too good to be true—to have a place that really focuses on letting people do what they excel at. I like to phrase it as the 80/20 rule: you should spend 80% of your time doing things you're really good at and enjoy, and 20% on everything else. Our managing partner is incredible at curating that culture for everyone. I get to do what I love and what I'm great at, with less time spent on things I don't enjoy.

For me, what I love is the substance and mechanics of litigation. I love what I do every day. I'm less enthusiastic about administrative tasks and paperwork logistics. We have people who are better suited to that than going in and taking depositions of high-profile witnesses. Coming here, to a culture that celebrates what our teams members are best at, was really the best decision I've ever made. I'm going to retire here—this is a fantastic place.

How I got involved in mass torts again comes down to my partners being visionaries. They asked if I was interested in getting back into mass torts, and I said I'd never done that. They reminded me what I'd done at Jones Day for five years. I guess you don't think of yourself as a mass-tort lawyer on the defense side—you think of yourself as a products lawyer.

I'd represented RJ Reynolds in smoking-and-health cases, worked on the tail end of breast-implant litigation, and handled the initial phase of transvaginal-mesh litigation. Given that experience and my familiarity with individual civil-rights work, I understand how litigation proceeds from start to finish. It's really just applying that knowledge at scale in the MDL context.

The ability to help thousands of people at one time is incredible. While it's great to win and solve someone's problem in a civil-rights case, you generally can only help one person at a time. In MDLs, you can help hundreds or thousands of people simultaneously. It's using your powers for good at scale.

Building trust is crucial with clients. How do you approach building and maintaining that trust from the beginning of a case through its entirety, especially when dealing with emotionally charged situations where clients are anxious and seeking regular updates?

In my current role, I don't frequently interact with clients directly. We have a large staff of attorneys and support professionals handling day-to-day client contact. I typically only interact with clients when they're selected for bellwether workup.

When those opportunities arise, I like to spend enough time with them to understand who they are and why this matter is important to them. You need to know the human being to understand how best to make them feel connected to the process so they feel it's working for them. I get to know where they come from, their family life, work history, and I let them know me a little bit so they understand what I'm invested in. I let them know we're in this together.

Just because I've taken oaths to three different bars and countless federal district courts that give me the ability to navigate these processes, it's still their case. We need to approach it in their way, consistent with the rules. The key is figuring out how to make them feel connected and empowered when plaintiffs so frequently feel helpless during litigation.

They've already been hurt—that's why they're here—and now there are burdens placed on them. It's like you get punished for filing a lawsuit because you have to dig through every record you've ever had and disclose every medical issue. It's a real laying bare of their lives.

Helping them understand the "why" of that process is hard but helpful to keep them engaged and prevent despair. When you're under a microscope the way plaintiffs are, it's very uncomfortable. They don't want to discuss their sister's breast cancer or their husband's alcoholism because the defense wants to pretend they're sad not because of the injury the drug caused, but because of other life circumstances.

Getting to know them and understanding what points need protection—or at least where they need their hand held through discovery—helps them feel like maybe their life hasn't been completely taken over by this litigation.

What are some of the challenges you've faced as a female attorney in this field?

Where do I even start? It remains disappointing that it's still the exception rather than the rule that someone engages with me simply as a lawyer rather than as a "girl lawyer" from the moment I start speaking.

I can spot these listeners immediately. Perceiving us as professionals still isn't standard in every context, and I don't know if it ever will be.

You're going to talk for 30 seconds to a minute before anyone starts listening and realizes, "Oh wait, yes, she does know what she's doing. She is prepared. She is a professional. Maybe I should listen." I still see that more frequently than I would hope.

Once I've had a couple of appearances—whether dealing with opposing counsel, co-counsel, or courts—it tends to dissipate. But that initial hurdle is always there to navigate. It's less so as a middle-aged woman, but it was more pronounced as a young woman.

What I'm happy about is that in my office, these young women never have to deal with the sexual-harassment I’ve dealt with. Most of my team consists of women—we do have a couple of gentlemen we've hired recently—but for a long time in Cleveland we were an entirely women's office. Sometimes I look at them and think, "You're not having to navigate sexual harassment or coercion. That's not even something that occurs to you at work."

I can't even imagine what that's like. While I didn't have a particularly vicious experience I want to highlight in this context, that undertone was always there when I was a young lawyer. I love that I've been able to create a space where women can learn to be lawyers without also having to navigate the gendered power dynamics that can quickly tip into inappropriate conduct.

There's a chance the new world will be better.

What advice would you give your younger self about how to navigate these challenges?

I'm a butterfly-effect person. I believe that if everything hadn't been exactly as it was, it wouldn't be exactly as it is now. Looking back, it was worth dealing with all those things. Would it have been more pleasant not to? Yes, but discomfort breeds grit.

The first worst thing that ever happened to me was when Jake DiCarlo made fun of me in second grade the day I got glasses. I put my head down and cried, thinking this was the worst thing that could happen. I remember feeling horrible, but I'm glad I had that first worst moment. Otherwise, how would I have been ready to deal with any of the other worst moments that came after?

I'll take the difficulties along with the benefits because it means I get to do what I do now and be where I am at this point. It was all worth it.

Are there any mentors or role models who have been pivotal in your career and influenced your professional path?

I just lost my only woman mentor by total surprise about a month ago. Her name was Mary Jane Trapp, and she was a retired judge from the 11th District Court of Appeals here in Ohio. I met her when she was a mediator for me.

She was the first mediator I ever dealt with who just treated me like a lawyer rather than a girl lawyer. I was young—probably 30 to 32, which is infant age for lawyers—and there was no different box she put me in. It was so unusual that I noticed it, and it stuck with me forever.

She eventually became my dear friend, and we were in the same Inn of Court. I actually picked her as my successor when I was president of the Inn. We always joked that she was suddenly my mentee because she was a prolific mentor to everyone around her, especially women. She was an incredible human being who taught me that you're always making people feel something—you can choose to see and treat them in a way that helps them see themselves better.

I also had a great mentor at Jones Day, Steve Kaczynski, who would start every opening statement with "I'm Steve Kaczynski, like the Unabomber, no relation." He was a fantastic trial lawyer who taught me what to be concerned about versus what not to worry about, how to control what you can control, how to prepare thoroughly, and how to deal with whatever else arises.

He taught me the art of being a lawyer versus just the technical components—things like deciding when to object. He was instrumental in insisting I be part of his team even though I was young. To their credit, even RJ Reynolds 20 years ago was aware that maybe the whole trial team shouldn't be white guys.

Between the litigation counsel in-house at Reynolds and Steve Kaczynski, I got the chance to do a lot of things well before most Big Law associates do, partly because of the Engle-progeny litigation where there had been a massive smoking-and-health class action decertified in Florida—it was just trial after trial. I got to practice and see masters at work. It was a unique experience for which I am eternally grateful. And it helped prepare me to anticipate how the defense will act or react. Because I cut my teeth in those rooms.

Balancing work with personal life can be challenging in this field. How do you approach work-life balance, and what advice would you give others?

I have three children—ages 12, 10, and 7. We've implemented a rule that each kid gets at most one activity per season. I'm not taking you to both soccer and baseball—that's ridiculous.

I think that as women have advanced career-wise, the time expected to be spent on children's activities has equally increased. I don't remember my parents spending this much time on my activities when I was little.

My husband and I both work and have divided responsibilities—I generally handle morning stuff, he handles afternoon stuff. When I'm traveling, which is frequent, he handles everything (with a lot of help from my mom). You have to find what works in your household based on people's preferences. There's no universal model.

I hate dishes, he hates laundry, so we do the things we hate least. I love cutting the grass, so that's what I do. For me, especially because men don't get asked "How do you father while lawyering?"—it's inherent in the question when people ask me how I do this with three kids.

It depends on how you want to define yourself as a mom. You can't be both a stay-at-home mom and a lawyer litigating MDLs. You can't put those expectations on yourself.

I think it's good for them to learn responsibility for their own things. If they don't put items that need washing in the laundry area, they don't get washed. I hope their personal responsibility develops more quickly than mine did.

My best advice is to play hooky when you can. I'm a Virgo and an oldest daughter, so I'm a planner. Once something's on the calendar, it's set in stone. I'll put on the calendar "We're taking the kids to Cedar Point on a Tuesday" when that's doable given what's happening in my cases.

I don't feel bad when I'm not with them, and I don't feel bad when I take time away from work to be with my family. I'm giving myself a break and not setting the bar higher than it needs to be.

I don't know if I'll ever totally figure it out, and I'm sure they'll have complaints about how I didn't do things or should have done things differently. But hopefully they'll be making those complaints from a position of self-reliance as adults, which is my ultimate goal.

I love what I do, and I hope that seeing me thrive professionally and help people will give them something valuable over time, perhaps more than if I had simply picked up all their laundry.

What advice would you give to women attorneys just starting out in this area of law?

This is still an apprenticeship model to learn to be an amazing lawyer. You can't do this remotely. Get yourself as close to an amazing lawyer as you can, pay attention to what they do, and make yourself indispensable to them.

Cross every i, dot every t—your work should be perfection. I don't want to see the word "draft" on anything. Give me what you would give a court. If you demonstrate that attention to detail and become necessary in the orbit of a lawyer you respect, you will advance.

If you just wait for people to call on you, and you do average work, you can make a career of that. Most people, by definition, are average. But if you're raising your hand—especially to do the hard stuff most people don't want to do—and you do the boring, tedious stuff incredibly well, guess who's going to get to do the good stuff next?

Treat every assignment like a Supreme Court brief from the beginning. Demonstrate your ability to be outstanding and listen. We are professional writers—that's what we do. All lawyers have to write something, even if it's just emails. Take pride in knowing the rules and how to convey information effectively through the written word. Read every book Bryan Garner has written about legal writing. Internalize these concepts.

I hear lawyers say "I'm not a writer." Yes, you are. Everyone doesn't have to write Supreme Court briefs, but you want to have that skill set.

One thing I learned as a Big Law associate was the precision, attention to detail, and perfection expected for anything we submitted on clients' behalf. Our individual plaintiffs deserve that same level of excellence, partly because you do better when that's your mindset, but also because when you're putting something before a court, it should be perfect.

Everything you ever write could wind up in front of a court, including scheduling emails. Be mindful—especially with emojis these days.

If you really internalize the oath we all take and do perfect, polished work, and you're someone who can be counted on to pay attention to details, you will be well served. If you wait for someone to tell you what to do, and expect someone else to check your work for accuracy, that's going to slow your advancement.

Dig in and figure it out. Never ask a question you could figure out the answer to yourself, even if it starts with Google. Being willing to do that legwork and figure things out on your own is incumbent on every lawyer.

Being able to master something new that you're unfamiliar with is what we do. Every deposition I take now is of a PhD in something I really have no idea about initially. Then you have to figure out how to show that person how they're wrong.

That's one of the best things about being a lawyer—you're a perpetual student, and you have to develop expert-level understanding of things you've never heard of. If you can be a successful student forever and master whatever new thing is put in front of you, then you're on the A-team.

Why are organizations like the Society of Women Trial Lawyers important to you, and how have they impacted your work?

I love SWTL. It's a place of professional community that's nothing but positive. We go to so many conferences where there's pageantry and people who like to have their voices heard the loudest.

There's something special about SWTL because the energy is just different. It's a recharging exercise versus some conferences that can be draining. I'm always sad when SWTL is over, while I'm typically glad to go home at the end of other conferences.

But SWTL is special. It was one of the first conferences I attended when I transitioned my practice into a national one and came back to the product space on the plaintiff side. The energy is magic.

I feel the same way about the American Inns of Court. I joined the William K. Thomas Inn here in Cleveland more than a decade ago. There are Inns all over the country and everyone should join one. These are groups of lawyers and judges from diverse practice areas joined by a common shared values of upholding the rule of law and curating the kind of legal environment in which we all deserve to practice. One where professionalism and civility are central to our work. If you spend all your time only with lawyers who do what you do, on the side of the v where you practice, you’re missing important perspective.

Looking back on your career, what accomplishments are you most proud of, and what future goals are you still working toward?

I don't really let myself dwell on past accomplishments because it's always about the next thing. My to-do list is too long to dwell on the past.

One thing I'm proud of where I feel I really made a lasting difference for people: I filed a lot of cases when Cuyahoga County had a huge problem in our jail. The county leadership had attempted to transition the jail into a money-making enterprise, bringing in incarcerated people from other jurisdictions. Through that transition, the conditions and treatment devolved to a level that horrified me.

I filed numerous cases and really held the county's feet to the fire to ensure they stopped hurting people. We don't get those calls anymore—calls about being strapped into restraint chairs and pepper-sprayed. The treatment was brutal and awful. Some corrections officers actually went to jail over crimes committed against people. I'm very proud of being involved in those cases.

I worked on a number of exonerations here in Cuyahoga County as well. Those are particularly meaningful to me. Through that process, I also learned that when you’re talking to an incarcerated client, you can’t just say “I’m a lawyer” and expect that the prosecutors aren’t still listening to the recordings. Pro tip.

I'm certainly proud to be here at Peiffer Wolf as part of this incredible team.

And I am thrilled to have recently been appointed to Board of Trustees of the American Inns of Court Foundation.

Looking toward the future, I'd like at least one of my kids to come work in my office. My second-grader came with me last year to a Harris Martin event and joined me on a panel. She was delighted. Maybe she's caught the bug.

Being willing to raise your hand and make yourself the center of attention isn't something women are necessarily socialized to do, but it's crucial for being a lawyer at a high level. Do you want to be the one with the microphone? That extends not just to court but everywhere.

I take my kids to places where they can sing into a microphone because being okay with all eyes on you is a skill set that translates to any space and makes you willing to be brave. What are you willing to put yourself out there for? I don't wonder about what I could have done, and I hope my kids never do either.