I went to the law school library the other day. I had some stuff I needed to get done but the cleaning lady was in the house. So that’s where I went. Admittedly, that’s a pretty bourgeoise reason for going to the library. But that was my reason.
The parking lot was jam-packed which I took to mean as a certain sign of high anxiety. I was correct. Finals start week after next. It occurs to me on the fly that perhaps this is one of the reasons that I have so little use for the holidays other than the fact that being a dyspeptic crank comes easily to me. Perhaps I still bear the scars of all of those first semester law school exams that were a harbinger of Christmases past. Makes as much sense as anything I suppose.
I am a mentor over there for a group of first year students believe it or not. I saw a couple or three of them in the library intensely booking it. One of them, let’s call him “T,” came over to where I was sitting. I offered him a chair. He preferred to hunker down. Most likely his backside has grown weary of furniture.
“What are YOU doing here,” he asked.
“Practicing law mah bah,” I replied, pronouncing the salutation, as I do, with the south Louisiana inflection. “So how are you doing, T?”
“I’mmmmmmmm…..actually doing OK,” he said as he looked off into the distance. He looked back at me. “Better than some. A lot better than some.”
His eyes opened wide as if to help convey the gravity of that which he spoke.
“A LOT better. Some of my fellow classmates are freaking out, quite frankly.”
That news came as no surprise to me although I hated to hear it.
I’m certain there are worse experiences than being a first semester law student. Being burned alive, living in upstate NY this week (two sides of the same horribleness coin that involve exposure to temperature) and being a Texas A&M fan come to mind. Even though the fix the Aggies are in is cause for mirth throughout the SEC.
But first semester law school is just the worst. You are basically learning not only a new language but a new, and some would say perverse, way of regarding the world. And you have to go through this with other law students, some of whom are, to put it mildly, poorly socialized. Or, as one of my former students aptly described her first semester, “It’s like kindergarten only with sociopaths.”
Ah! Memories!
“You’ll be OK, T, “ I said. “Really you will.”
“I know,” he said. “It’s just….”
“I know. Believe me. I know.”
He glanced at my iPad.
“So what are you working on? If you don’t mind my asking.”
“Not at all,” I said. “I just wrote an email to my client raising some concerns about whether he is in compliance with the Fair Labor Standards Act.”
T’s eyes became filmy. I put my hand on his shoulder.
“See what you have to look forward to?”
“I think I need to get back to my memo for Property class. Thanks a lot, though.”
That’s what I’m here for.
As I was leaving I heard my name being called. Another one of my mentees, as they are called, came trotting over. After some idle chitchat during which I took his temperature (he seemed fine) he came to his point.
“Ya know when finals are over, let’s you and me play nine holes first nice day we get.”
“You got it. You know where to find me.”
By this time I was in the parking lot. I could feel the received anxiety, think of the opposite of a contact buzz, receding from me.
Years ago I was just like them, albeit less bright and not as capable. I could have used a mentor back when I was going through the same horrible experience. But when I was in law school, basic considerations of providing a minimally humane milieu for the first year students was unheard of. As bad as it is for my students, and it is bad, it was worse 47 years ago.
Want to play golf? That’s what I’m here for, mah bah.
As far as mentoring goes, I ain’t much. But I do no harm. I suppose that’s something.
I just hope for their sakes, more accurately for the sakes of their loved ones, that this experience doesn’t ruin the holidays for them.
Who wants to have to fool with the Rule against Perpetuities during Advent? As if the holidays are not sufficiently depressing.
Bah! Humbug!
