An Open Letter to First Year Law Students Concerning the Practice and Profession of Law

"An Open Letter to First Year Law Students Concerning the Practice and Profession of Law"

This was the title of the letter I received the summer of 1995.  In this letter, a future law school professor took it upon himself to prepare us all about what we were about to experience.  Some tidbits are below.  This is long, because I have pared down what was a 6 ½ page single-spaced letter.

Intelligence

The substance of legal data is complex . . . what you will be required to read and comprehend is difficult . . . making sense out of this vast array of data and learning how to do something with it requires the fact sensitivity of a historian, the deductive logic of a philosopher, the inductive reasoning processes of a scientist, the intuition of a mystic, the predictive abilities of a fortune teller, and the common sense of a West Texas cowboy.

Senior year of college, not only was I accepted early to law school, but I was invited to compete in the academic scholarship competition!  This did not surprise me at all!  I was SO SMART.  I made almost all A’s.  And once, when Dr. Dupuy tried to give me a B, I simply passed my paper back to him and told him:  “I am an A student.”  Damn, I was so smart.

So I loaded up my Toyota Corolla, and I put on the suit I bought at Casual Corner.  I drove straight to Columbia, South Carolina to the parking lot assigned to me . . . and I promptly locked my keys in my car.  I didn’t want to be late for my interview, so I left my keys in my car and hiked (in heels, tight skirt, uphill) to the University of South Carolina School of Law!  My interview consisted of one question:

Professor:           What is your position on NAFTA?

Me:                        Um, we learned about NAFTA in my macroeconomics class.  I think it is a good thing for our global economy.  I think it will increase trade.  NAFTA is good.  NAFTA good.  ME LIKE NAFTA.

Professor:           Do you realize you have just pissed off the entire business community of South Carolina?

Me:                        Um, do I still get a scholarship?

I did.  I got a $500 scholarship.  Woot Woot!

After the locksmith left, I did as I was told and took Highway 378 to Lexington, where my boyfriend lived.  Except I went in the other direction, and found myself in Sumter, South Carolina.

So I got on with it and started law school.  And I read a bunch of stuff.  And took notes.  He was right, it was like reading Sanskrit at first.  But I got used to it.  And honestly, one of the hardest things was when I was elected to some office or another.  Because I had to work in the canteen in the mornings.  And this meant I had to make change.  And making change is HARD – my brain doesn’t work like that:



Um, do you need change?



Psychological “toughness”

You will often find clients to be unreasonable and demanding when you are attempting to prepare their case, abusive when you lose it, unappreciative even when you win it, and nearly always outraged when they get your bill.  . . .

He was absolutely correct about this.

The Socratic Method

You will initially find the so-called “Socratic Method” to be enormously frightening and unnecessarily confrontational.  That is not its primary purpose, but it is a desirable side effect because it begins to prepare you for the practice of law.  If you cannot learn to deal with the endless and incomprehensible questions and sometimes sarcastic retorts of your law professors, without “coming apart” intellectually and emotionally, then you have no business in this profession.

Once, my professor told my best friend she would not get anywhere in life with her “mouse voice.”  Oh, how this pissed me off.  Oh how I thought Professor R was a bitch.  Oh how unnecessary of her to pick on my dear friend.  

Well, I am really good at holding a grudge, especially when it is someone else’s battle and not my own, so I have never forgotten Professor R and how just downright awful she was.  So Darra just got this big deal recognition:



MyBestFriendDarra



And let’s just say I heard that someone cut out this big deal recognition from a magazine and ANONYMOUSLY mailed it to Professor R, with a well worded post it note stuck prominently on top.  I heard about that.  I have no idea who did that, but I heard it said “you told her she’d get nowhere with her mouse voice.”  And I heard it said some other things too.  Bitch.

Oh, this is a picture of me practicing my psychological toughness on my grandmother, after my first year of law school:

Many of you have never gotten a grade below B.  This is because most of you went to college competing with people who were there primarily because they had the necessary tuition money and the time to spend, rather than because of a sparkling intellect.  It is little wonder you excelled.

On the first day of law school, the speaker announced:  15 of you were Valedictorians, 5 of  you were student body Presidents, 4 of you can touch your tongue to your nose, 25 of you are in MENSA, 7 of you were breast fed until you were 3 years old, 2 of you will be dumb enough to get elected to the public office.  All of the people you scored better than in college?  Do you see them?  No.  That is because they are not here, they have JOBS.

Well, at least we didn’t have to worry about a JOB for a few years.  Or did we?  After first year was almost over, I was bitching and whining with a friend.  About how people who made Bs and even some C+’s couldn’t find a SUMMER job at a law firm.  About how hard it was to get that summer job unless you really knew someone or had straight A’s.  And how was I going to find a summer JOB???  So I said “Strom, Jr. are you having trouble finding a summer job?”

And Darra kicked me under the table and said “Don’t be stupid Ashby, there is a bust of Strom’s daddy in the lobby.”

Ashby on the Law – what my letter would say

Professor H forgot a few things in his letter.  I’d like to supplement it.  If he doesn’t like it, he can sue me (I’m insured).

Be Quiet

Sometimes clients just want to be heard.  They don’t want legal advice.  They don’t want any advice.  They want you to listen. 

Be Brave

Bantering with a law professor in front of 100 classmates is one kind of bravery.  Walking into the home of a client, who has called you for immediate response, because her son was just killed by a drunk driver 8 hours ago and she needs you . . . she does not know why, she just needs YOU.  This is another kind of bravery altogether.

Touch

Touch the clients.  Yes, I said it.  Touch them.  During the inflammatory divorce hearing, lean over and touch their shoulder.  Tell them “I’m here.”  Tell them “this will be over soon.”  Tell them “no matter what happens, I am not going anywhere.”

Hug the clients.  When they are happy.  When they are sad.  When they cry.  When you see them in the grocery store.  Touch their hands.  Hold their hands.   They are people.  You are their somebody.

They are in your office not because you are a genius, or you read briefs really well, or you made an A in your Torts class, or you are “tough.” 

They are paying you to help them with something upsetting, something humiliating, something painful.  You are being invited into a Life Event.  It is as important as the birth of their child, their marriage, their graduation.  It is something they will carry with them forever, they will never forget it . . . and they have asked YOU to join them.  It is an honor. A privilege.  A gift.

So don’t blow it.