Definitely hate the term BAME and POC but unfortunately they're terms we'll have to live with while we're minorities (I come from Singapore and the concept of POC doesn't exist there).
Most of my experiences have seen predominantly female AC groups - I'd say around 70% female.
Skadden had a good number of BAME candidates, and
Ashurst seemed fairly diverse as well. As a guy I'm perfectly fine with this. Law needs better gender representation, 120%. And they still have a long way to go.
But take a look at linkedin, and you'll find that several firms only have a largely white-dominant "Future Trainee Solicitor" profiles after hiring exercises, and it's frustrating to see for sure.
So the main problem is that vac schemes seem to be fairly diverse, but that TC hiring rounds at some firms (not all!) seem to be largely white and male, with an additional caveat for Oxbridge qualifications.
And I think it really boils down to the familiarity complex above all else ... I could talk about this for hours, but the legal industry really needs to set radical goals in order to change fast - having 20% BAME diversity goals at trainee level won't do anything if partnership has historically remained at 5% BAME or 15% women for a decade.
I'll quote something that an Asian American writer wrote below which I loved to read. The main point is that anecdotally, I know plenty of highly-qualified Asian lawyers who were unable to break into partnership and sit at that table and thus had to return to their home countries (for those who had originating countries) - much work to be done in the City!
"
By law, a Korean citizen cannot hold dual citizenship. Moments ago, as I listened to her pledge allegiance to the United States of America, I had told myself I would remain a Korean citizen for life. The brainwashing sessions during bootcamp had done their job. But I knew another, perhaps truer, reason for my stubbornness. It was pride: I could not accept being a second-class citizen. Despite all talk, America is the white man's land, and one only has to take a stroll inside The Yale Club on Vanderbilt and 53rd to realise this – if one can get in, of course.
Many of my friends had left America for the same reason.
"How does it feel to be back?" I had asked James last year. We were having breakfast at Bouchon at The Venetian in Las Vegas, where we'd gathered from all over the world for a friend's bachelor party.
"It's nice. I actually had an offer to return to the New York office."
"Are you not going to?"
James had begun his career at a law firm in New York after graduating from Harvard Law. The H-1B visa lottery hadn't worked out for him, and he had been moved to the Singapore office until they could sort out his visa. But after years of working in Asia, he said he no longer felt like returning to New York.
"Sitting at tables where you're the only Asian guy, talking to your white partners at these parties, I always felt out of place. You're the outsider, of course. But in Asia, you can see yourself becoming them some day. You are actually part of the circle."
A few months later, I heard a similar thing from another friend who had begun his investment banking career in Hong Kong. We were at an upscale whiskey bar in Seoul. Somewhere like this in New York would be 90% white, and I'd be nervous inside that the bartender would shaft me to attend to the white jock that just walked in.
"It's nice to be treated well," he spoke with self-assurance, swirling his glass like a man certain of the laws that govern his world. "It matters, more so as you get older."
"How's the Laphroaig?" the bartender stopped to ask, "You're new here – I haven't seen you before," she smiled at me.
Looking back, the heirs of Singapore and Hong Kong, all those real-life Nick Youngs who drove around campus in their convertibles, returned to Asia straight after graduation, and they will only step out from the shadows when their fathers die.""