A thank you, my weekly schedule, and some reflections

First, a huge "thank you" to all who've stopped by this blog, especially to you who've written to me, either directly or indirectly. It's very good to remember that I had/have a life outside of law school. I'm encouraged by you who've written, knowing that those who write are probably a fraction of those who've stopped by.

But about the fact that I had (have?) a life outside of law school--almost everyone I interact with now is linked to school. I was about to run down a list of who those people are, but let me instead tell you what a typical week has been like:

Sunday: Church in the morning and/or afternoon (I'm still visiting different ones in the area), then lunch/dinner, and then in the evening, go to school and read and prepare for the classes I have on Monday.

Monday: I wake up around 8 am, get ready, pack some food, and either drive or catch the bus to get to my 9 am class (Contracts). After class, have a snack (which is usually my breakfast), then study or visit office hours of professors or tutors (tutors are 2nd or 3rd year law students. I haven't yet visited office hours, but I plan to). There might be a student group having a meeting or a visiting lecturer giving a lunch time talk. Then my 2 pm class (Torts--things people do that get them sued). I may study a bit more at school, then go home, relax a bit, have a snack, study, have dinner, study a bit more, then go to school to study more. (I need to change my environment every once in a while). If I stay past 11 pm or so, I'll see the janitorial staff at the law school. They recognize me now, though I don't think they know my name.

Tuesday through Friday: largely the same thing. My first class every weekday is at 9 am, though it's not always Contracts. Have a snack, go to class, have lunch, go to my afternoon class. All the while in between, trying to finish reading or briefing in that 30 minute or 1 hr gap to be ready for the next class, so that if the professor calls on me, I won't have a repeat of last time (see "Socratic Method". By the way, Kev, I did intend that to be funny.)

On the other hand, if I'm ready for the next class, I may chat with my fellow classmates. Often this is chitchat, but we also fairly frequently discuss cases or issues, try to clarify what things mean, or most commonly, commisserate over how much we still need to do. Our jokes very often make reference to the material we're studying (something which I believe all first year law students do).

Most days, after going home, I'll come back to school at night. Some days, though, I'll stay home and read there.

Home: I don't think I've described home yet. I'm renting a room in a small 3 bedroom house that's about 4 miles from campus. It's a quiet neighborhood, with cloned houses and wide streets, very much like parts of Irvine. My 2 roommates are a fellow 1st year law student who I share 5 of my 6 classes with, and a 4th year veterinary student who spends the vast majority of her time at the veterinary hospital. Matt, the law student, studies almost exclusively at the library, so when I go home, I'm usually there by myself, which is nice.

A 3rd year student said that when the rainy months come, people in the law school don't want to go out to the rest of the campus for lunch, which causes the atmosphere to be "incestuous". There's a bit less than 600 law students total, and there are only 3 floors in this building, if you count the basement. Thus, everyone will see each other numerous times each day--incestuous.

I think I will dread this.

But in any case, to close the point I was making earlier, other than the time I spend at church or with my veterinary student roommate, or time I spend alone, all the rest of the time I'm with law student, law professors, or the janitors who clean the law school.

Not that there's anything inherently wrong with law students, or with professors or janitors. Still, it's another adjustment from my previous life--where I spent a lot of time by myself, and spent some time with Christians from a wider range of ages and abilities. I suppose I'm adjusting to a new social as well as a new spiritual environment. In what ways does this change in my external environment affect my inner life? How does it affect my perception of the world and of myself? I don't know.

Perhaps this was part of the reason why I felt I needed to dedicate the first 3 days of this week to God. And it was good in that I'd needed to remind myself once again that "man does not live by bread alone, but by every word that comes from the mouth of God." And, also, that "the Son . . . sustain[s] all things by His powerful word." (Hebrews 1:3).

Still, it was a rather frustrating time, too, in that I didn't feel I'd become much more focued on God than in other blocks of time like that.

I feel I need every bit of spiritual power and strength that I can get--that I need more strength, more dedication, more intelligence, more wisdom to be able to endure here. And as Faulkner wrote, "not only to endure . . . but to prevail." But really I think I'm saying: "I need more ____ in order to ____ (fill this second blank in with "lead someone to Christ" or "be a good witness" or "accomplish career goals that will allow me to honor God" or whatever). As I write this, I chuckle wryly at myself. I think I ought to instead ask "With what God has already given me, will I prove faithful?" ("When the Son of Man comes, will he find faith on the earth?")

Or, as Mother Theresa once said, "God hasn't called me to be successful. He's called me to be faithful."

How I'm doing so far

A friend wrote to me a while ago, asking how I was doing, and I just wrote him a rather long e-mail, which I've edited slightly and excerpted below:

The transition has gone well. My parents helped me move in, and my roommates are both "good" people . . . [generous, friendly, not demanding at all--they're both grad students in their mid 20's]

Classes are demanding, and I'm studying more and studying more consistently than I ever did before. Still, it hasn't been quite as much as I thought it would be. I remember someone once saying that you have to be in a study group in law school because you can't possible read all the material yourself. So far, though, I have been able to read all the assignments myself (and so have all my classmates).

My fellow law students are all bright people, and a large fraction--I would estimate more than half--have not come straight from undergrad programs. Many people are in their mid to late 20's, though some are in their 30's and even a few in their 40's. I thought I'd be surrounded with lots of younger driven people who were all pre-law when earning their bachelors', but that hasn't been the case.

The other law students are also by and large very nice people. Friendly, sociable, outgoing. I know that these are good skills, especially because we'll one day be colleagues, and networking is a valuable skill. As for me, I've found myself being more withdrawn than I expected to be, having made a few friends, [and being willing to meet people, but not spending much time outside of class with people beyond my small circle].

My parents recently bought me a car, which has made life a whole lot more convenient. When I first found out I'd have one, I thought I'd use it minimally, only a few times a week [the bus system is enough to get by], but so far, I've driven somewhere at least once a day. Funny how the things you thought were unnecessary when you didn't have them suddenly become extremely useful once you do.

In connection to that thought, I've had the chance to help with 2 different moves in the last few weekends. Both people had lots of stuff. Lots and lots of stuff. In the hours spend packing it in, I kept thinking to myself that I'm going to be different, that I will live a simple life here in Davis. Once we got it all into the car or the truck, though, it was interesting to think that this was all (or almost all) that that person owned in the world. Not very much. But also, paradoxically, too much. I think St. Francis of Assissi once wrote something about the man who "in possessing nothing, owns everything."

Still, I find myself buying a few things here and there, and I've got to remind myself to value simplicity. Living in a small room, in a small house, has been good in this respect--there's not much room to put stuff.

Socratic Method

This is the general teaching method for law school. Certain pages are assigned to be read before class. Students are expected to read these and be ready to describe and discuss the readings in class. Because so much is assigned, students will generally write short summaries of the court cases they've read, which are called "briefs". During class, the professor will begin a discussion of a court case by randomly choosing a student and asking him/her to talk about the case. It is extremely embarassing to flub this in class, because all of your classmates are of course ready to answer, and in every previous instance, have answered articulately.

Today I was called on. Today, I flubbed it. Of the lectures that I've been to, I believe I'm the first to do so.

Details: Part of the reading that was assigned for today was the case of People v. Beardsley. I'd read the case, but it had been late at night, and I hadn't quite had the time to write a brief of it. In my memory, the names of all the cases have already coalesced into a blur. Murphy's Law strikes again--he calls on me. I've been following on his outline, and I see that he has some comments about a motorist.

In a state of inward panic, but outward calm, I start talking about a situation discussed in the reading regarding a motorist, an accident, legal obligations, etc. I'm under the impression that this is the Beardsley case. As I talk, I see that heads are starting to turn, people are looking directly at me. Fortunately, before I get too far, I notice a certain look on their faces, and I stop my blathering and say, "Am I talking about the wrong case?" Heads nod up and down. Laughter ensues.

A guy in the row ahead of me says to me in a low, soft voice: "It's the lady who commits suicide." A surge of gratitude fills me. Bless his heart. The fact that a woman died perversely makes me happy, because it triggers in mind the outline of the case. I start describing it. Unfortunately, one of the key details escapes me, and the guy next to me points at a word in the book that he has circled. I state this, and am soon corrected by the professor, who says, "In fact, it wasn't a hotel, it was the man's basement, right?"

Mentally, I gulp. "Right."

Well, this 2nd flub was a minor one, and people don't audibly laugh--I think I have their sympathy. Much like having a household accident--observers laugh at first, but later just feel bad for you.

A little later in the discussion, a woman raises her hand and asks a question, and starts a discussion amongst the other, eager to be heard, well prepared law students. I've escaped, for now.

Oddly enough, though I've been considerably embarassed, part of me wishes that I felt it even more intensely. After all, this is the humiliation that is supposed to motivate me to push myself even harder. This is the Socratic Method, using social pressure to motivate greater studying output.

I hope it is enough, and that the lesson will not be repeated.

Quick unrelated thoughts

Law students are only here to learn the system, not to critique it. Occasionally something comes up that we think is unfair, but for the most part, it's already starting to become assumed that we study the law, we don't seek to change it. We're losing our moral outrage at the injustices of our system, and perhaps some of us will regain it later.

In criminal law, there are two components of a crime: 1) the act, and 2) the mental state of mind accompanying the act. Practically, it's sometimes hard to figure out the act, and very often hard to figure out the mental state. How glad believers should be that on the Last Day, the One who looks at the heart will grant justice.

We fill our lives with thoughts, ideas, patterns, and then we later look into our hearts and are surprised to find that they've become part of who we are.

When someone we recognize as worthy, deserving of praise, dignified in the sense of having human dignity--when such a person honors us, we find ourselves both uplifted and humbled. How paradoxical that we are able to feel both at the same time.

Sleep is good.