I was a trial lawyer. At the same time, I was a teacher. I

Hear the layered words of Ben Stein: “I was a trial lawyer. At the same time, I was a teacher. I taught about the political and social content of film for American University. Then I left and became a teacher at the University of California at Santa Cruz. I taught about the political and social content of film, but I also taught a course in law for undergraduates.” In these lines, he reveals a life that straddles the realms of practice and reflection, of courtroom battle and classroom contemplation. It is the portrait of a man who walked not one path but many, weaving together action and teaching, law and art, practice and philosophy.

To declare “I was a trial lawyer” is to affirm a life in the arena, grappling with human conflict at its rawest level—where truth, persuasion, and justice meet in contest. Yet Stein’s words quickly turn to “at the same time, I was a teacher.” Here lies the duality: the lawyer fights in the courtroom for verdicts, while the teacher awakens minds for understanding. One role is bound to the present case; the other looks toward the future of society. This union of lawyer and teacher is a rare harmony, for it unites the power to act with the power to reflect.

When he speaks of teaching “the political and social content of film,” Stein shows that art is never neutral. The screen is not mere entertainment, but a mirror of society, a battlefield of ideas, a lens that shapes the very soul of a people. By guiding students through the hidden politics of film, he was not merely analyzing stories but arming them with the wisdom to discern the forces that shape culture itself. In this way, he extended his law into another realm—not the law of courts, but the law of perception, where justice and injustice are carried in images and narratives.

His move to the University of California at Santa Cruz shows a broadening of purpose. There, he continued his teachings on film but added a course in law for undergraduates. This blending of disciplines reflects a deeper truth: that knowledge is not meant to be fragmented, but unified. Law and film, politics and art, society and justice—all are threads of the same fabric. To teach them together is to show students that life is not divided into silos, but interconnected, each field shedding light on the other.

We see echoes of this in history. Marcus Tullius Cicero, Rome’s great orator, was both lawyer and philosopher, both senator and teacher. He argued cases with brilliance, yet also wrote works that guided generations in ethics, governance, and duty. His life, like Stein’s, was a fusion of action and reflection. From the courtroom he drew urgency; from the lecture he drew wisdom. Together they forged a legacy of influence that reached far beyond his own age.

The deeper meaning of Stein’s quote is this: a life of service is richest when it unites both practice and teaching. To practice without teaching is to fight without passing down the lessons. To teach without practice is to speak without proof. But when one does both—when one fights in the arena and then returns to guide others in what was learned—the cycle of wisdom is complete. The world gains not only the fruits of the struggle but also the seeds planted in new generations.

The lesson for us is clear: do not confine yourself to one dimension of life. If you are a worker, be also a learner. If you are a fighter, be also a teacher. Share what you have gained, and let your experience serve not only yourself but those who come after you. For the true measure of wisdom is not in what you have achieved, but in how much of it you have given away.

So I say to you: remember Ben Stein’s words. “I was a trial lawyer. At the same time, I was a teacher.” Let this remind you that the world’s greatest lives are lived in layers—action and reflection, work and teaching, struggle and wisdom. Walk boldly in your field, but also return to share the lessons of your journey. In this way, your life will echo beyond your own years, and your battles will become not only victories for yourself but teachings for generations yet to come.