That sums up my first two weeks in law school. So far, almost everything has been doing well and good. So far, there's little reason to think that the struggles formidably presenting themselves are insurmountable. So far, there's little reason to tremble at the sight of lawyers who teach, presumably in a grand manner. So far, the expenses are within tolerable boundaries despite having already given birth to a widening hole in my wallet, the end to its continuing growth being nowhere near. So far, the almost sleepless nights of studying, of having to review for six hours or more during the most unholy hours of the evening just to come prepared to a two-hour class the following morning are not enough to pull down someone so eager and determined, begging for the madness to end altogether. All these in the face of the prospect of becoming a scintillate of the law which, all things waiting to be said and done, remains so far ahead.
So far so good. But that's not to say that nothing has gone wrong these past few days. Quite on the contrary, to say that life's a bitch is an understatement. It's a total whore if you ask me. You get pleasure, at least intellectually, which is also torture at the same time, and at the end of the day you have to pay, body and soul. It's a good thing that my knees are still intact knowing how they tend to wobble when the gods at Malcolm Hall dilute your sanity by throwing a whole series of questions at your direction. That, while standing up for almost the entire duration of the class for, when called to recite, you have neither privilege nor right to sit down unless your professor tells you so. In case you do or prefer to disobey, or sin maybe, no saint can save you. Hell will freeze over. That, while your humility is pounded all the more.
You have to survive on a daily basis. There is little room to think of the next day and the days to follow. Or in case you prefer to brave such daunting task, the certainty that your plans will ever meet the day when they ought to take shape is never guaranteed. The pile of readings for one subject in one day is equivalent to half a semester's worth of readings during my undergraduate years. Multiply the volume by three and you get the daily picture. Which is why it is in the prudent order of things for you to live the day and worry about tomorrow tomorrow. Surely, tomorrow can wait; today can't. And for someone who is studying and working at the same time, or someone who is earning his wages just to send his self to law school, there's always a time for everything. Today is for today. Tomorrow is for tomorrow.
It's quite difficult to enter the portals of this institution. To hang in there for the next four or five years is another matter. To keep afloat is all the more tiresome made all the more difficult by the increasing level of academic difficulty.
But that is where the darker side of things end, at least as far as I know. The other side of the same coin balances the equation. Like yin and yang.
Of course, law school is half empty if not totally void without the brighter side to it. For one, you get to learn. A lot. I think that is precisely the point of studying. Turning into a lawyer is just an auxiliary consequence to the ordeal. You can hardly become a lawyer if you do not learn in the first place. You can hardly become a legal counsel if you do not learn the primordial elements of litigation in the first place. You just become no less than an employee of another, or someone who hangs a diploma on the wall for bragging rights. Although these things are not inherently bad, they do defeat the penultimate reason for studying the beauty and madness of law. Which goes without saying that depriving yourself of the opportunity to learn is to deprive yourself to share the best and worst of times with those who share the same interest. Which also leads us to the second side of law school.
It forges friendship. Each becomes a witness to the failures and triumphs of one another. Each becomes a living testament to the shameless and shameful consequences of each other's attempt at solving the riddles that professors are prone to unleash. Each becomes a benefactor to another's wisdom, much as each becomes a victim to another's mistake. The failure of one is part of the failure of another. The sweet success of one is another man's, or woman's, taste of ambrosia and nectar. Interdependency is the operative word. You have to survive but you have to do so with the help of others. When you stand alone, your troubles are doubled. To say the least, frailty and determination are parts and parcels of what these students collectively possess. And these are the same things that bind them as a single force. In some cases, they also separate them in varied ways, but that's something else.
I very well recall the time when I was still an undergraduate. That was the time when I could attend classes even without arming myself with an understanding of the lesson the night before. I could bluff my way around and nobody even cared, not even myself. After all, the real measure of learning is not the "uno" or "singko" that you get at the end of every semester. That is perhaps the worst yardstick mankind has ever made. But of course, it's better to have something than to have nothing to justify your continued stay in a school funded by the people's tax. Going back, that was the time when I still had ample time to do anything that I please. Today, I barely even have the time just to scratch my balls.
Be that as it may, two weeks have gone and I am yet to see the rest of how it is to be a law student worthy of the people's taxes. So far so good, some people put it. I concede that to be here is so good. But I admit as well that the end of all these is so far.
So far so good. But that's not to say that nothing has gone wrong these past few days. Quite on the contrary, to say that life's a bitch is an understatement. It's a total whore if you ask me. You get pleasure, at least intellectually, which is also torture at the same time, and at the end of the day you have to pay, body and soul. It's a good thing that my knees are still intact knowing how they tend to wobble when the gods at Malcolm Hall dilute your sanity by throwing a whole series of questions at your direction. That, while standing up for almost the entire duration of the class for, when called to recite, you have neither privilege nor right to sit down unless your professor tells you so. In case you do or prefer to disobey, or sin maybe, no saint can save you. Hell will freeze over. That, while your humility is pounded all the more.
You have to survive on a daily basis. There is little room to think of the next day and the days to follow. Or in case you prefer to brave such daunting task, the certainty that your plans will ever meet the day when they ought to take shape is never guaranteed. The pile of readings for one subject in one day is equivalent to half a semester's worth of readings during my undergraduate years. Multiply the volume by three and you get the daily picture. Which is why it is in the prudent order of things for you to live the day and worry about tomorrow tomorrow. Surely, tomorrow can wait; today can't. And for someone who is studying and working at the same time, or someone who is earning his wages just to send his self to law school, there's always a time for everything. Today is for today. Tomorrow is for tomorrow.
It's quite difficult to enter the portals of this institution. To hang in there for the next four or five years is another matter. To keep afloat is all the more tiresome made all the more difficult by the increasing level of academic difficulty.
But that is where the darker side of things end, at least as far as I know. The other side of the same coin balances the equation. Like yin and yang.
Of course, law school is half empty if not totally void without the brighter side to it. For one, you get to learn. A lot. I think that is precisely the point of studying. Turning into a lawyer is just an auxiliary consequence to the ordeal. You can hardly become a lawyer if you do not learn in the first place. You can hardly become a legal counsel if you do not learn the primordial elements of litigation in the first place. You just become no less than an employee of another, or someone who hangs a diploma on the wall for bragging rights. Although these things are not inherently bad, they do defeat the penultimate reason for studying the beauty and madness of law. Which goes without saying that depriving yourself of the opportunity to learn is to deprive yourself to share the best and worst of times with those who share the same interest. Which also leads us to the second side of law school.
It forges friendship. Each becomes a witness to the failures and triumphs of one another. Each becomes a living testament to the shameless and shameful consequences of each other's attempt at solving the riddles that professors are prone to unleash. Each becomes a benefactor to another's wisdom, much as each becomes a victim to another's mistake. The failure of one is part of the failure of another. The sweet success of one is another man's, or woman's, taste of ambrosia and nectar. Interdependency is the operative word. You have to survive but you have to do so with the help of others. When you stand alone, your troubles are doubled. To say the least, frailty and determination are parts and parcels of what these students collectively possess. And these are the same things that bind them as a single force. In some cases, they also separate them in varied ways, but that's something else.
I very well recall the time when I was still an undergraduate. That was the time when I could attend classes even without arming myself with an understanding of the lesson the night before. I could bluff my way around and nobody even cared, not even myself. After all, the real measure of learning is not the "uno" or "singko" that you get at the end of every semester. That is perhaps the worst yardstick mankind has ever made. But of course, it's better to have something than to have nothing to justify your continued stay in a school funded by the people's tax. Going back, that was the time when I still had ample time to do anything that I please. Today, I barely even have the time just to scratch my balls.
Be that as it may, two weeks have gone and I am yet to see the rest of how it is to be a law student worthy of the people's taxes. So far so good, some people put it. I concede that to be here is so good. But I admit as well that the end of all these is so far.
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