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nuclear's avatar

An American working in Sweden: Any ideas?

Asked by nuclear (296points) June 28th, 2013

A little background:

I just graduated from law school in the UK as the valedictorian. I’ve got a publication and excellent references, and I am pursuing a Masters in law at Oxbridge in October. I will focus on corporate finance, competition law and intellectual property.

So far I am an unqualified lawyer. I have the option of taking the New York bar exam in the USA if I need to tick a bureaucratic box of being “qualified” somewhere.

I also have an opportunity to take a JD at a top US university, putting me in a good position for a BigLaw job in the US. However, the thing is, I am only 22 and I love Sweden. I want to spend time living there. I’m not feeling like I even want to return to the US very much, but at times, law feels so constrained that it may be my only option.

I do not speak Swedish but I am confident I could learn, to a reasonable proficiency rather quickly. From brief research, it seems that some law firms depending on the specialisation do not even require Swedish.

At the same time, while I pursue my wanderlust I also want to be able to build my resume and career… I do not want to go over and do something non-law related. (If only I was an EU citizen….)

Does anyone have any ideas on the best way to investigate this, seek internships, or how I should approach law firms regarding these matters?

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10 Answers

OneBadApple's avatar

Man. Wow. First, let me congratulate you for being about 10,000 miles (or, 16,093.44 kilometers, to you) ahead of me when I was 22 years old.

I don’t know much about law, but I know about New York. Someone with your credentials will have no trouble being a great success practicing law in NYC, and your British pedigree would probably be even more of an advantage for you while living there.

But from what I’ve read, the Scandinavian countries are always rated among the highest in the world relative to personal happiness and overall quality of life. And I’m told that the Swedes speak better English than WE do.

So….bottom line…..I think that you can’t lose either way. It’s just a matter of whether the bright lights of New York would make you happier than would the overall charm of Sweden.

In any case, I bow in your general direction…
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nuclear's avatar

Thank you for your encouragement and kind words.

I feel that of course NY is more practical, I’d probably be able to make a fair amount of money, and I’m sure I’d like it…. But at the same time, do I really want to wonder what Sweden would have been like? I’d hate to be 45 and wish that I was a little more creative. Maybe Sweden would be a disaster… But many people seem to take a year off before a JD or what not.

I was just in Stockholm and yes, their English is scarily good. I’m just wondering whether I would be as we’ll received in Scandinavia as I would be in NY. I really want to make this happen! Luckily I have a year to play with the ideas.

The career/cash gains vs potential happiness balance continues…

OneBadApple's avatar

I’ve never been to Sweden, nuclear, but have lived and worked in NYC. The nice thing here is, you are likely to be incredibly happy no matter which direction you eventually choose to go. One choice will end up making you very, very happy….and the other will make you very, very, VERY happy.

Man, I am so jealous…..

(Did I say that out loud ??......oops….)
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cazzie's avatar

I would just put my feelers out for jobs in Stockholm if I were you. I’ve learned Norwegian enough to get by here in Norway.
Here are some job ads in Stockholm. http://www.metrojobb.se/s/stockholm-stockholms-l%C3%A4n-sverige

BosM's avatar

Establish yourself professionally first, all the while knowing that your longer term plan is to investigate life in Sweden and to one day live there and practice. I would expect there are Law firms representing US companies doing business with Swedish companies. You should take that into consideration while making professional plans and decisions.

Once established as a successful attorney in the US and dealing with multi-national corporations (Volvo, Ericsson, AstraZeneca, Atlas Copco, are some) then opportunities in the EU will present themselves. You’re on the right road, just give it time to play out. My graduate program did our Capstone program in Sweden so I understand why you would like it so much, it is a beautiful country. Good luck. Peace, BosM

nuclear's avatar

Thanks for your response. I feel that would probably be a safe route, but will require a few years in the US, sadly.

I suppose I could investigate finding internships or work experience opportunities…. A friend of mine suggested looking at large accounting firms, however I would be limited to advisory work and would not be able to do any litigation as passing the bar would be fairly impossible without years of study.

Espiritus_Corvus's avatar

I married a Swede stateside in 1980. We moved to Sweden in 1982. Upon arrival at Arlanda airport in Stockholm, I showed my passport, marriage certificate to a Swedish national and declared that I intended residency. I was told that I was to register with the police in the village we had moved to. Upon registry, as an alien wishing to apply for residency, I was given an appointment for an interview at the same police station. (There are no hodgepodges “local” police agencies in Sweden as we know them in the US. The Swedish police are one integral national law enforcement agency that handles initial immigration applications, besides local crime, etc.)

The interview lasted about an hour. There was a plain clothed officer and an officer in uniform in the interview room. The plain clothes man stood by the desk as the uniformed officer asked the questions. They were both very polite and informed me what type of questions were to be asked and why they were asked. Most of the info they needed was on the application that I received at customs at Arlanda.

I was then asked if I had ever committed a felony, if I had ever been diagnosed with a serious mental problems, and if I had ever lived anywhere besides the U.S. I was told that a “yes” to the first two questions could put my prospective residence visa in jeopardy and that my criminal history would come from the U.S. embassy anyway. I passed muster. And then he asked me a very interesting question that I doubt they ask anymore: “Did you serve in any capacity for the American armed forces in Viet Nam?” I hadn’t, but I asked why that was important. He said they had had problems with Americans who had served and it was a red flag.

At this point, the plain clothed man left the room. The rest of the interview was basically about what was expected of me in the future in order to maintain my residency. I was to receive in a short time a “seat” at a Swedish language school of which I would be expected to attend five days a week, eight hours a day for 5 months. I said that this would be very nice, but I had money for a tutor and didn’t want to use Swedish tax money for something I could pay for myself. He said it was mandatory. OK. He said that naturally I would be expected to obey Swedish law and assimilate as best as possible, that the Swedish government worked hard to avoid “islands of cultural isolation.” I said no problem, I appreciated their concern. The guy was very nice and said that I could probably expect no problems with my application.

About a two weeks later, I received an invitation to attend language school at a specific date, under the auspices of Arbetsformedlingen (the national employment office), I believe. The classes were tough at first. There was no explanations in English or any other language; the teacher spoke only Swedish. There were about twenty-five other adults in the class, all of different nations. It was very interesting. There were only two other native English speakers; a girl from south England and a memorable machinist from Scotland. I couldn’t understand the Scot any better than the teacher. There were two Roma women as well. Very tough culture—isolation during mense, etc, so once a month they were excused from attending. Attendance was very strict as well. I think we were allowed only 1 day a month of excused absence, otherwise our residency was put in question.

By watching and listening closely, I was, within a couple of days, able to discern that “substantive” meant “noun,” etc. Predikat, helpverb, etc., came along easily. I had a great teacher. We learned about Swedish money, geography, political structure and theory and the 5 politcal parties then existent in Sweden. There were some dropouts. By the time the course ended, we were down to just over ten students. The Scot hung in there, but the Brit and the Romas had left. It was the best course one could get as an introduction to Swedish culture and language and the best investment the Swedes could make toward assimilating their immigrants. Smart people.

During this time, I wasn’t allowed to work as a work permit was granted only on condition of attending this school. I received a stipend for living expenses, a monthly bus pass, and a daily newspaper of my choice—all of which I didn’t need, but the government was adamant to give me. This way, I suppose, there would be no excuses not to go to this school.

After I finished my five months, I was sent to the employment office where they evaluated my work history and I was given a battery of tests to determine my academic achievement level. About a week later, I had an interview with a woman who’s job it was to either get me into more school or into the work force as soon as possible. She said I could go further in school on the Swedish dime if I wanted to. I couldn’t believe it. This was one thing I wanted to do there more than anything else, but I though I would have pay for it. She asked me what I would like to study. Jesus, I thought. A smorgasbord has opened up. What the hell, I thought, for the first time in my life I would go for broke. I told her I would like to go to medical school.

I remember exactly how she reacted. She kind of leaned back into her chair, and looked at me with a kind of wry smile. After a moment she suggested that I first get my feet wet in health care field by becoming a paramedic and, if that worked out, we could talk further. I said o problem. Classes would open up in September and this was May, so in the meantime, as she didn’t want me just waiting around doing nothing, there was a professional cooking class open to new students and that I could attend that until my courses opened up. I said no problem.

In the cooking class I learned about Escoffier-style cooking—the five mother sauces, the history of certain dishes going back to Roman times, etc.,—only with a Swedish bent, including the preparation of various wild fowl, elk, reindeer, and sauces with wild berries, etc.

There, I met a guy, a graduate of Warsaw Politeknik, a young lawyer whose last job was at the Polish consulate in Malmo, evidently a man being groomed for a future in diplomacy. He handled the distribution of coded teletype dispatches. The day one arrived informing the staff that the Première of Poland had “committed suicide,” and General Jaruzelski , the new man in charge, had instituted martial law, this young lawyer took his lunch with the Swedish Police at the nearest station and asked for asylum. Now we were both in this cooking class. He was not a happy camper. He was waiting for Swedish and international law classes to open up. He was all thumbs and not at all interested in cooking. He was a little, skinny guy and terrible in the kitchen and even dangerous to be around when fire was involved. I was having a ball. I loved every minute of this school. Anyway, I was the only other student who would work with this guy so we got to know each other. Very interesting. I never met anybody under a death sentence in-absentia before. He was a very nice person and we have kept in contact over the years.

I eventually became a paramedic and studied art history at night. Later, I became medical staff aboard ships in the Baltic and oil rigs in the North Sea. I even did some cooking in a hotel in Copenhagen and a little pub in Scotland while on leave from North Sea duty. I never went to medical school, and never really expected to. I paid higher taxes there, I suppose, but I always felt I was getting my money back in services. I think most Swedes feel that way.

I’m not sure if this is still the way the immigration policy works in Sweden, but it was probably the smartest thing any country can do for it’s immigrants and we would do well to follow their example. It is much cheaper to make the investment and convert new immigrants into tax payers as soon as possible— which I think was the whole point of it all.

OneBadApple's avatar

That was a fairly lengthy read, but damned interesting, EC. Thank you for posting it.

P.S. “I couldn’t understand the Scot any better than the teacher”. HA HA !!

You reminded me of this…..

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=u9oKdUFCoVo

Espiritus_Corvus's avatar

@OneBadApple: That has to be the funniest Robin Williams skit I have ever seen. Thanks, One. That is exactly what the Scot sounded like. It took me forever to understand him. He understood my English quite well and—I never knew if he was putting me on or not—he couldn’t understand why I had trouble understanding him. He was a good man and we became fast friends. Strange sense of humor, though. And he never missed an opportunity to denigrate the English, especially Maggie Thatcher.

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