Paying Attention

So, per usual, I start to lose focus about 30 minutes into my 8 AM Civil Procedure class with Professor Stiglitz. I decided to check Facebook and started a Scrabble game against a fellow classmate. But I got a quick reminder that I shouldn't be playing.

Hypocrite

I don't get it. I can go without blogging for days, even weeks at a time, but when I finally come back I've got a million things I want to talk about.

Remember how I got all worked up about that speech? The one where my professor didn't allow me to participate because she wanted to reward (and/or punish) year-long behavior? The finals were held about a week ago, and because one student had to take medical leave, a spot opened up. Before our last class, my professor pulled me aside and offered it to me. She told me that she had heard I was outstanding, and wanted me to go. I was rather excited -- until I heard the competition was to be held in 24 hours.

I don't mind looking foolish in front of other people. I do it all the time, without even trying. But I can't stomach the feeling when I let myself down. And frankly, I didn't feel 24 hours was enough time to adequately prepare myself for the type of performance I wanted to give. Still, I delivered the speech in my professor's office and she was sure that I'd do amazingly well if I gave it a shot. But with so much left to do as I approach finals, I passed on the opportunity. And I'm sure it's something I'll think about for a long, long time.

It's nearly 2 AM, and the pills I took make it difficult to sleep. So instead, I decided to work on part of my Appellate Brief for Legal Skills. The first draft of my argument is finished, though it's a bit wordy. 3,000 words. And I've got a lot of work to do left. Several other parts of the brief need to be revised and scruitinized. Aside from that, there are countless outlines that I need to create/update. It's going to be a crazy last few weeks, but I think can smell the beach -- it's less than four weeks away.

Thirty

A friend of mine told me that she didn't like my blog and found it "depressing." I'm fairly certain it's not my fault. I think it's just the life of a law student.

For instance, I've got class in seven hours. And each Tuesday/Thursday at 8 AM, I get to experience a few seconds of torture as the professor decides which person to humiliate that particular day. I wake up, get yelled at, and go home. That's pretty much it.

But I'll make a concerted effort to try and blog about the more enjoyable aspects of law school over the next few weeks. There's only one problem; we're officially one month away from finals.

The Gill

I participated in the David M. Gill Mock Trial Competition solely out of spite. It's no longer something I'm exactly proud of, but it's the truth. Not being able to speak in the previous oral advocacy competition, after winning my "room" left me disheartened and disgusted. I wanted to show my professor that she was flat-out, 100% dead wrong about me, my abilities, and my future.

Last night, I performed my closing argument for the plaintiff. The speech itself only took seven minutes, but the feedback seemed to last forever.

"Good eye contact, but not enough."
"Slow down."
"Your fact simply isn't true."
"You can't use that; it'd never get into evidence."

I'm not used to that. My experience with feedback involves an appreciative audience in awe. And as I left the room, I didn't feel so hot. Granted, I was disapointed with myself from the very second I finished speaking. I stumbled over one strong point and failed to even mention another. The judges did tell me how much they enjoyed my speech, presence, and that I had a lot of quality arguments in the text, but their kind words were tough to process after getting destroyed by a tandem of lawyers.

It took me a while to get to bed last night. I knew I could do better. And because of the format, I had another shot earlier tonight. After several re-writes, edits, and practice, I felt rather confident. The speech was a bit shorter, but I thought it'd allow me to focus more on a steady pace and "vocal variety" as my old teacher, Ms. Mansell used to say. I walked in at 7:15, took a deep breath, and dived headfirst.

It wasn't perfect. It never is, or at least I never think so. I forgot my "lines" at a few spots and had to improvise, but it seemed to go smoothly. I still paced a bit, but I kept my eyes focused on the judges. And my closing was both articulate and powerful. The feedback was much more kind, this time around. They loved the analogies, alliterative phrases, and gestures. Unlike the previous night when I had to squirm, this night, I was able to bask in the glory of my hard work paying off.

I hate to say it. I hate to write it even more. But if my professor had allowed me to participate in the first event, I doubt I would have even entertained the idea of signing up for the Gill. I might have not even put in much work on the first competition. Instead, my professor made me earn it. Granted, I have no idea how well I did compared to my peers. I might make the finals on Thursday, I might not. And right now, I don't really care. Sure, I'd love to win. But what's more important to me is that tonight, I can sleep well.

Deep Breaths II

She's right.

Well, partly, at least. If I want to be a successful lawyer, I can't half-ass my work. It'll be doing both myself, my clients, and my society a disservice. But it's unfair to compare the work on the outside, the work that acutal lawyers do, with the monotanous, trivial shit that encompasses the life of a law student.

I'm 23 years old. And I'm not about to live my life cooped up in a library. I'm not about to spend every waking minute chained to a textbook. If that means that my grades suffer slightly, I'm fine with that. But I'm not, and I've never been, fine with the idea that less work on my part will negatively impact the life of someone around me.

Whether I like it or not, and whether she even meant to or not, my professor has motivated me. By not allowing me the chance to compete in the Edwards speech competition, I've decided to sign up for an opportunity to display my skills and actually try to enjoy part of law school: the Gill.

Deep Breaths

I'm not really an angry person. My complaints generally reflect more of a whiny tone and fall into the classification of "gripes." Most often, I'm not that upset - just a bit bothered. This, however, is not one of those times.

Last Wednesday, I participated in the oral argument portion of my legal skills course. My professor had told the class about it a few weeks prior, and to be quite honest, I was excited. So much of what I do in law school is mundane and I was happy to actually have a purpose. Besides, I live to speak in public. Sure, I'm a nervous wreck during the first few seconds, but I've yet to find that rush in any other facet of life; that one moment when I authoritatively make a point and look out into the crowd, only to lock eyes with someone and take note of their attentiveness and fascination. It's almost as if I get to see the point registering inside their brain. So yeah, I was excited.

I spoke with my professor after Monday's class to talk about the assignment. We spoke for twenty or so minutes and covered a much wider range of topics than I had previously anticipated. I discussed the irony of not having time to do what I truly wanted, spending time and effort on the oral advocacy, because of my substantive (and boring) courses. She seemed to sympathize.

I decided that I wasn't going to let class credit keep me from working on the assignment, even if it was basically credit/no credit. I familiarized myself with the cases, prepared the speech, and practiced it several times. I was ready. And more importantly, I enjoyed getting to that point.

We were divided into groups, with the winners recieving a nomination from our professor to compete in the "finals" with other 1Ls from California Western. I didn't plan on winning, but I apparentlly did well enough to merit the victory. The person who judged us, a 2L, told me that I did an amazing job and just need to slow down a bit in the beginning. Totally fair and legitimate criticism. I've always been a bit fast at the start, mostly because of the nervousness I alluded to earlier.

A few days later, I recieved a mass e-mail from my professor, telling me (and the rest of the class) who had won their individual groups. While I was pleased to see my name on the list, the email went on to say that she couldn't pick everyone who was deserving, and had decided to go with two students other than myself. She ended the email with something to the effect of, "I've decided to reward the students who've put in the hard work all semester."

I was pissed. Not because the other students didn't earn it; I'm sure both worked extremely hard on the assignment. And frankly, I've slacked off a bit, at least compared to the others who spend twenty hours a week in the library. But her comment makes me feel that there's nothing I can do to change her perception of me. There's no point in working harder, because my grade is already set in stone. If she would have watched me speak and decided the others performed better than me, I could live with that. But to deny me the opportunity to be heard, well, it's somewhat ironic considering the speech dealt with a student's first ammendment rights.

A few days later, I got a second email. My professor opened by telling me that the "judge" was "very impressed with me" and my performance. But what started out as a pat on the back soon turned into something entirely different. Basically, my professor told me that if I ever wanted to be a competent, ethical lawyer, I needed to decide that THIS is what I want to do and stop half-assing everything. I'd write my response now, but I guess it'll have to wait because I've got class in a few hours and sleep is more important than my anger.

Marching On

Clever title, right? It's March. And my second semester of law school continues.

Not much to report over the last few weeks. For the most part, I'm enjoying much substantive law classes LESS this semester. But interestingly enough, I'm more "on the ball" with regards to the workload.

I did, however, truly enjoy my most recent law school experience, participating in oral advocacy. I've always loved speaking in public. Perhaps it's because I've been told I'm good at it, or because I like to hear myself talk without being interrupted for 5-7 minutes. Either way, presenting my oral argument in Legal Skills was an activity I hope to be able to do more often. I didn't come to law school to sit in a stuffy room for hours on end, and so far, that's mostly what my time at Cal Western has been about.

It's bothered me to the point that even though I passed, I've began to give serious consideration to dropping out - or at least taking some time off and re-evaluating the situation. But I've decided to stick it out, at least for this semester, and wrestle with the issue sometime over the Summer.

Hemlock

I remember studying about Socrates in 10th grade. My teacher described him as a rational, intellectual, and compassionate. I didn't agree. I wasn't too impressed with a man who merely got high, walked around, and spouted off random thoughts. I'm even more disenchanted with Socrates now that I'm forced to endure his "Socratic Method" on a daily basis.

Here's the jist of the Socratic Method.

Greek Student: Hi, I have a question.
Socrates: What is your question?
Greek Student: Is there a heaven?
Socrates: That is the question, isn't it?
Greek Student: Yes, it is.
Socrates: Is it?
Greek Student: Yes.
Socrates: Why is it the question?
Greek Student: Umm, because I asked you. So is there a heaven or not?
Socrates: Wait here while I go have sex with little boys.

Okay, perhaps that's not entirely accurate. In law school land, the Socratic method refers to a reliance on the students to educate the rest of the class. Volunteers are appreciated, but most teachers call on people at random. For most, it's unsettling and nerve racking.

My torts professor, Ms. Bowermaster, called my name at the beginning on Monday's class. On the plus side, she did pronounce it correctly. Our "conversation," which consisted of a back and forth question and answer session about relevant cases, rules, and hypotheticals, took 47 minutes. The highlight came early, however. I had missed the previous day, and she opened with a question regarding the material covered in that particular class.

Professor: "Mr. Barone, what are the three types of consent?"
Crap. I didn't know. I fumbled through my notes. She noticed my hesitancy.
Professor: "Consent. Remember, from last class? Here, ask me a question."

I was confused.

Me: Wait, what. What kind of question?
Professor: "Any question asking for my consent."
Me: "Can you call on someone else?"

The class erupted in laughter. Everyone told me it was because they thought the comment was hillarious. Ms. Bowermaster even commented that it was the type of response that my peers would talk about years after finishing law school. I first assumed that's a good thing, although now I wonder; people could be laughing about the "dumb guy in that one class" who asked the teacher to call on someone else.

'Cause I can't stand up and I can't fall down...

It took me ten days to write this. That might give you a faint idea of how well I did.

In actuality, I didn't do too poorly. I passed, perhaps not with flying colors, but a pass nonetheless. And considering I put in very little work all semester (outside of the last three weeks), I should be rather proud of my grades. But I'm not.

I wanted to be the best, and instead, I now have to wait to prove it until next semester's exams. The last set of tests have served as a "kick in the pants" and I hope to use them as motivation for future success. That means more briefing, outlining, and weekends in the library. Not exacty something I'm looking forward to, but I feel it's something that must be done if I want to truly see how great I can be.

There are a few more isses I'd like to discuss, but I'll have to save those for another entry because my professor is starting to talk about substantive material.

Anxiety

For most of the week, I've remained calm and stoic about the idea of failing. I've realized other options and paths available to me, and am confident that I can have a life filled with happiness even without a legal degree. But none of that provided me with much solace during these few waning hours before I can see my grades.

Part of me wants to fail. I miss the old job. I miss the game, the financial freedom, and the "neat" story about what I did for a living. But more importantly, I'm not really enjoying law school. Sure, a few of the topics pique my interest, but most often I'm zoning out. I've always been that way, in regards to class. Would I be happier in a law-related job? I simply don't know.

Part of me wants to pass. Maybe I'm not sold 100% on the prospect of being a lawyer, but I'd hate for that decision to be made by someone else. If I don't want to finish law school, fine. But to have the knowledge that I couldn't do it? Devastating.

Apathy

Well, it's been more than three weeks since my last entry, and we're in the thick of the new semester. Perhaps "we" isn't the right term; I shouldn't include myself along with the rest of the class, since I've been slacking as of late.

I'm not exactly sure why, but I'm struggling to find motivation. Maybe it's because we get grades on Friday, and at this point, I'm still unsure about how "well" I scored. But that's not a fair excuse, because everyone else feels the same way.

To get a grasp on exactly how apathetic I've become, check the time and date of this posting. For those not enrolled as members of section four, I'll fill you in; I'm writing this entry during my property course. In fact, I haven't read for property in a week. And honestly, I feel horrible about it. Not because I'm behind, or feel lost in class, but because my professor is so damn nice that I feel like I'm letting him down. But still, that's not enough for me to change my ways. Yet.

Maybe I'll feel differently when I get my grades. I guess I'll find out in a few days.

Lucky Me

I became the first person to get called on this semester. Hooray. Even better, I had no idea what we were talking about because I have yet to purchase a Torts textbook. I attempted to answer the first question, even though I relied solely on my neighbor's whisper, but unfortunately, he didn't know the answer either.

Well, at least the cat is out of the bag; I'm an idiot.

Ready or not...

...here we come.

Second semester starts up in the morning. 9:50 AM, to be exact. But I'm not ready to go back. Part of me hopes I failed the first semester miserably, and get "cosmically redirected" somewhere else. I'm not excited by the idea of barely passing and becoming a below average lawyer. There are enough of those. But until I get my grades (in two weeks), I'm going to stick with the plan.

Like the rest of section 4, my Monday schedule is as follows:

Legal Skills 9:50-10:40
Torts 10:50-12:05
Contracts 2:40-3:55

I don't even know what a tort is, unless being a lawyer also involves making tasty desserts. The worst part is that both Torts and Contracts assigned homework. Yeah, right. I'll start tommorow. The break was short enough as it is. Speaking of which, it's time I headed to bed. I'll miss you, 4 AM.