At what cost mercy?

"Economic Analysis of Law" is a school of thought that weighs costs and benefits to decide what a legal rule should be.

It's controversial because it advocates that the foundation of law should not be morals and justice per se but costs and benefits. It's utilitarian.

One of the many problems with this way of thinking, my professor pointed out, is the question of distribution. Who should bear the cost of society being benefitted as a whole?

If building a highway that runs through your house will make commuting easier for the entire city, should you be made to sacrifice the cost of losing your house for the greater good of a city full of happier commuters?

My professor actually gave a starker example. He said, "What if torturing a child would increase the whole world's happiness?" Should we do it?

That knocked the breath out of me.

For the rest of class I could not concentrate on his lecture because I kept thinking about Christ. A child was tortured to increase the whole world's happiness.

Of course the professor's hypothetical was rhetorical. Of course we were supposed to all be aghast and see the folly in unequal distribution. Of course we all thought it was just plain wrong to torture a child, ever.

But I was enthralled by this: That a man lay down his most inalienable rights to benefit his enemies. That is unknown to the laws of men.

Groupie Disappointment

This whole week, much excitement had been building up to today.

Today was supposed to be the day that I drew breath in the same room as Justices Scalia and Breyer, who were scheduled to be on a discussion panel at the law school today.



Of lesser significance to me, the Right Honorouble Lord Rodger of Earlsferry and the Right Honorouble Lord Scott of Foscote were supposed to be on the panel too. Yeah, the English and their "titles." They are actually called Lords of Law. The big question on all the students' minds were, "Would they wear their wigs?"

But alas, though we rescheduled our Contracts class just to attend the panel, my dream of breathing in Justified(?) air was not to be realized.

The Ames courtroom was so crowded in Austin Hall that the "rest" of us had to watch the event live broadcasted in Langdell Hall. How anticlimactic. I might as well be watching the Justices on CNN.

The broadcast was of very poor quality. English accents are hard to understand in the first place, but add to that poor sound quality and picture delays and you get almost zero comprehension. And to make matters worse, the Right Honourable Lord Rodger of Earlsferry would NOT shut up!

Half way through I gave up and decided to go home. I'll maybe watch the rest on web cast.

And for the record, the Lords of Law did not wear wigs.
(They didn't even wear robes).

Girls Gone Mild

Two great things happened in law school this week.

First, the new law school gym finally opened. Before, I was trying to make do by going to the undergrad gym, Malkin, but it was sadly deficient.

Malkin is poorly ventilated (think nasty sour sweat smell), had very few machines, and no free weights! How could a private school with a bazillion times MORE funding than Berkeley have a gym that was a bazillion times WORSE than Berkeley's? Where is all that money going to? Bribing US News & World Report to give them higher rankings?

But the new gym is beautiful. Still small, but very sleek and modern. And, the best part of it is that EVERY single cardio machine has its OWN TV screen attached to it. That's right! You just plug in your earphones and enjoy whatever show you like.

The second great thing that happened was that I joined my equivalent of a law school sorority.

Ever since law school started, I have been trying to befriend my female classmates to no avail. For some reason, they have no desire to talk to me and when I talk to them, they answer in curt phrases, making it abundantly clear that they don't care to continue the interaction. So what's a girl to do?

But this week, in Contracts, our professor forced us to form study groups. I didn't want to join a group of guys, but then again, I may have to since I didn't know any girls.

Just as I was pondering my testosterone-laden options, my classmate Jenna asked me if I wanted to form a study group with her. Wow. I would've never thought Jenna even knew I was a live. She is one of the more trendy looking girls who was, unlike me, very popular with the other girls in our class.

So Jenna and I talked about who else we wanted in our exclusive group of 4. We ranked girls and made lists. We considered their comments in class and their conduct outside of it. At one point Jenna said, "I feel like I'm rushing." When I looked puzzled, she explained, "You know, how in sororities you rush girls to pick who gets in."

Oh, yeah. I've never been part of the Girls Gone Wild party/sorority scene, but this was as close as I would ever get, I suppose. Being in a group with an ex-sorority chick.

But in case I got the wrong idea that I was somehow now in Jenna's nucleus of friends, who all look like ex-sorority girls themselves, Jenna makes it a point not to talk to me too much in public. We mostly communicate through email.

"Sure Christina, why don't you shoot me an email about it."
"Great Christina,...ummm, let's talk about it more over email."

Apparently high school teen dramas are a pretty accurate portrayal of the female social dynamics in law school. And as is the fate of all conventional nerds, the popular girl only talks to me for study help.

And I don't mind because she's cool.

But they told me there would be parties...

I don't know why I thought law school would be mostly fun and games.

Maybe it's because the LSAT had a games section which really was fun. Maybe it's all the riveting TV shows and movies about law. Or maybe because in a subject so riddled with "parties," you just envision good times.

But it's not.

Law school, for me anyhow, is a lot of pain and toil. Imagine wading through page after page of "fine print" and legalese and you'll have some idea of what my reading assignments are like.

To wit, here is a passage from my Contracts casebook, which I had to read and re-read for half an hour to get a sense of what it means:

"The rule which is applicable to one who is under a contract to render personal services, and who, being discharged without cause before the end of his term, sues for damages, requires him, in estimating damages, to allow for his services during the unexpired term whatever he is able to obtain for them, or, if damages are assessed before the end of the term, whatever he reasonably can be expected to obtain for them during the time covered by the contract."

Can you believe that is only one sentence long?!

And it also doesn't help that it was written in 1900. I thought reading Dickens novels were hard because of the dated language! Now I have to deal with archane semantics and legal words that masquerade as normal words.

A gold star to anyone who can explain to me what the excerpt above means. (Except for my brother, that's too easy for him.)

Makes Johnny a Dull Boy

You can spend all 24 hours a day studying and still feel like you're not done.

Given that fact, what's a law student to do? Study strategically. And, learn the art of not getting called on in class.

I've tried various methods with great success. In Contracts, I commit to looking down at my notes and furrowing my brows to give the appearance that I'm in great confusion and turmoil. If you call on me, I am apt to make a horrible scene and cry.

In Civ Pro, I am fortuitously situated behind a big guy who covers up my name tag.

In Property, I volunteer a lot. That way, the prof feels like I would manipulate the class too much if he also called on me for the "tough" involuntary questions.

But there still remains a mountain of reading and briefing to do when you get home. My life has morphed into this horrible, monotonous schedule:

Wake up.
Study.
Go to class.
Go home and study.
Go to another class.
Go home and study.
Go to sleep.

Repeat.

It's Just Chung

In Contracts class our professor made name tages for us with only our last name on it. That way it's easy for her to call on us.

"Ms. Nicholas, why did the court...?"
"Mr. Wallman, what are some arguments for...?"

But I noticed a queer thing today when she called on me.

Prof: Chung, what is the main issue here?
Me: Well...I don't know if this answers your question but..
Prof: That's one way to frame it. Let's call that the Chung analysis. How would you continue the reasoning under that theory, Ms. Cartwright?
Cartwright: Um, could you repeat the question?
Prof: Chung said that the...

Chung?! Where's the courtesy title? Since when were we on a last name only basis? Hmmm...

The Three R's

I thought I had learned the 3 R's in elementary school.

Apparently, not well enough. The 3 R's for law school are much the same as the traditional Readin', 'Ritin', and 'Rithmatic. But of course there's not really any math involved, so I would change the last one to Reasonin'.

I never really felt deficient in these 3 categories until now. Especially the Readin' one. Everyday I find myself getting a little bit more behind on the readings than the day before. That's because I'm a slow reader. And it's also because I'm a bad reader.

Honestly, I've never had to really read before. In highschool, you just listen to your teacher lecture. In college, I was a language major, primarily because it didn't require me to read, just translate. But now, there's no escaping it. It's read or die. And I'm dying.

I also didn't realize that I was such a bad writer. One of my profs put up this sentence on the board and asked us what's wrong with it:

The defendant says he told you the truth. But, did he tell you the whole truth?

It looked like a fine sentence to me. But, apparently, you shouldn't have the comma after "but". And there were many other badly written sentences that puzzled me too. Stuff about refering to antecedents and prepositional phrases. Look, my whole philosophy on proper writing is that it's fluid. It's cultural. It changes with popular usage. But,...that philosophy isn't serving me well now.

The only one of the 3 R's that I can half decently perform is the Reasonin'. But I'm still way off from the standard that the profs want. They befuddle me with their incessant questions of "why?" Kind of reminds me of the relentless toddler who suddenly wants to understand the world.

"Why is the sky blue?"
"Because God made it that way."
"Why did He make it that way?"
"Because that's his favorite color."
"Why does he like blue best?"
"Because blue rhymes with shoe."
Or if you don't want to resort to flat out lies,
you say, "Because I said so!"

Now here's the law version:

"Why did the judge decide that the damages were incorrectly ascertained?"
"Because the proper measure was the difference in market value."
"Why is the proper measure the difference in market value?"
"Because the other alternative creates economic waste."
"Why is economic waste undesirable?"
"Because...um...it's just bad?"
"No, tell me why! What's behind it? Come on, dig a little deeper!"

And you just want to say, "Because the case book says so!"

Now, after only a week of law school, I realize how truly flabby my grey matter is. But like anyone who's on a good exercise and diet program, I look forward to the day when I can sport the mental equivalent of six-packs and chiselled pecs. For now, I'm just in constant pain.

What do you think?

Today, I have no time to write an introspective piece.

But in order to write something relevant to law school, let's try a little thought experiment. The following is an issue that came up in my property textbook. What do you think about it?

Buzzers. Should we have them or not?

Buzzers are cage like devices in retail stores that prevent the customer from entering the store until an employee buzzes them in. NY is where you mostly find them. They are supposed to add a measure of safety to the owner of, say, a jewelry store or of other high-end products.

Unfortunately, blacks are usually the ones who do not get buzzed in, primarily black teenagers wearing sneakers and hooded sweatshirts.

But often times, the buzzer is abused. A black woman wrote about her horrible experience of exclusion at an upscale retail store. She stood in the cage waiting to be buzzed in. The pimply faced white teenage boy behind the counter told her, "We're closed now." It was 1pm and other white customers were in the store.

If the black woman sued the "saleschild" for unfair exclusion, perhaps she would win in court. But what if she were a black male? A young black male dressed in sneakers and a hooded sweatshirt?

Should we even allow store owners to exclude people from their stores before the people have a chance to prove whether they are good customers or not? Certainly a rowdy, drunk, raving lunatic customer may be escorted out after he acts up. But prejudgment?

Incidentally, I saw an episode of Law and Order once where 3 black teenagers went to a jewelry store at night with the intent to rob it. The owner would not buzz the kids in and so they started to shoot at the owner. The owner shot back, but it was later discovered by the detectives that the owner had locked the store's outside door and so was essentially shooting the teens like shooting fish in a barrel.

The neighboring store owners, upon hearing that the 3 teens were killed, felt relieved and hailed the murderer as a hero.

I Knew Fear

Some professors ask questions like a Gatling gun. Quick, unceasing, and hitting a lot of students. That's really not so bad. You get called on, you don't know the answer, after a brief 3 seconds, the prof moves on and asks your classmate to help you out.

But some professors ask questions like a medieval torture device. It's long, laborious, and it's only you on the hot seat. That's what happened to me today. To compound the general devastation one would feel due to just public anxiety itself, the questioning happened to be about a case I had not fully prepped for. Oh sure, I had skimmed it before class time, but legal briefs can NOT just be skimmed. It's not like girly magazines (unfortuneately for me, all I've known).

So there I was, cold sweat dampening my palms. My voice dropped to a low throaty alto and I knew fear. It must be like blood in the water, profs can just smell an unprepared student that they can readily devour.

As Prof S. continued with his questions it was as if time had stopped. Like a movie in slow motion, I could see myself in an out-of-body-experience kind of way. I saw my future flash before me. I imagined what my classmates must be thinking to themselves. "I knew that legally blonde chick was dumb." "How did she ever get in?"

I would never get into a study group. Who would want to study with me if they felt like they would just be pulling my weight? And when I graduated on the bottom of my class, my professional reputation would be ruined because all my classmates would shun me forever.

"Ms. Chung, why did the court not argue the defendant's constitutional rights?"

"Um. The...court...felt that the state law would better protect the workers' human, uh humane rights?" Humane rights? What the heck was I saying?! Humane rights are for dogs and cats!

"Ms. Chung, why did the court feel that way?"

"Uh, the...court...uh...didn't really elaborate on that point." (sheepish smile).

"Ms. Chung, it's on page 110, paragraph 2, read it to the class."

Read it to the class?! Not only am I so deficient that I can't be trusted to do analysis, but now I can't even read what it plainly states in the book! I tried to read the passage with as much dignity as I could salvage, slowly, deliberately, with emphatic pauses. But I fear it was too late.

After this final humiliation, the questions ceased and the prof moved on to his next target. I slumped in my chair and felt faint.

When class was over I went to the restroom to find a long line of my female classmates waiting to use the stalls. None of them would talk to me. None of them even acknowledged my presence, though they happily gabbed with each other. I turned to look in the bathroom mirror. The image that peered back had dishevelled hair, blotchy skin, and puffy, sleep-deprived eyes.

But thank God for my friend Antonio*. When I left the bathroom feeling like I had just been flushed down the toilet, Antonio came up to me and said, "Good job in class."


*All names have been changed to protect student's identities.

I already hate the Socratic method...

Today was my first time in class. My gut reaction is: please, PLEASE, do not make me go back.

The Socratic method is a counter-intuitive and dare I say very ineffective way of instructing. For some horrible reason, that is the only method that law schools use.

The method consists of the professor asking students questions that are supposed to give them greater insight into the law. But what I witnessed today was in NO way instructive or even constructive.

My first class, Contracts, was taught by an energetic proff whom I admire much. But her questions were so open ended. Hopelessly open ended. There were a hundred different ways to answer and several levels of answers a student could give. Why is objective intent the standard for contract law? Why economically? Morally? Pragmatically? Which one was the one she was looking for? It was impossible to know.

In my second class, Civil Procedure, the Socratic method seemed to be the perfect excuse for not preparing for class at all. This absent minded professor spent the entire hour and a half asking questions about things that had NOTHING to do with our reading. Of course, if he had to lecture, like most normal professors, he would have nothing to say. But because he can hide behind the Socratic method, he could fuddle through the class time asking really REALLY randomn things.

But aside from the awful instruction, or lack thereof, I'm also sore from studying. My brain feels like a 250lb couch potato made to jump into Army basic training. Run 10 miles! Then drop and give me 20! Now 100 sit-ups! Go! Go! Go! Stop crying like a little girl! Or as my army friend would say, "Suck it up little piggy!"

I have never felt as mentally exhausted in all 25 years of living as I have in just one measly day. ONE day's thinking, reading, and lecturing is more mental heavy-lifting than ALL my years of education put together, I dare say. And it hurts. And when I think that tomorrow I'll have to do it all over again, and again, and again...I feel like crying. It's soooo hard.

But that's what I wanted. To be mentally stimulated. Be careful what you wish for.

Celebrity Sightings

Today was the second day of orientation. It was filled with activities that seemed to be all optional.

The first activity we did was to listen to Professor Charles Fried and Professor Charles Ogletree debate about the upcoming senate confirmation meetings regarding Supreme Court Justice nominee John Roberts.

At one point, Prof. Ogletree referred to his colleague as the "Yes-Chuck," because he likes when people call him Chuck, and to himself as the "No-Chuck," because he prefers to be called Charles.

The Yes-Chuck, we students were told, was the Solicitor General under President Reagan. And because our professors graciously expect us to be ignorant still, explained that the Solicitor General is the lawyer who represents the US in cases heard before the Supreme Court. Big stuff.

The No-Chuck wrote a prominent book about Brown v. Board called, With All Deliberate Speed, but is probably best known for representing Anita Hill in the Clarence Thomas sexual harrassment trial years ago.

The debate was light, friendly, and filled with eloquence. The two Chucks waltzed around with great ease, dropping names of Senators and Justices like fairy dust from a wand. Fairy dust that rubbed off on them because they had once known them, had lunches with them, had clerked for them, etc...

Sitting in that gorgeous auditorium, beautifully pannelled with dark mahogany wood and glistening with chandeliers, listening to two of the top lawyers in the nation bantering about, I couldn't help but feel in awe. Yet that feeling of wonder was quickly and utterly trumped by the star-struck woosiness I felt as I was leaving the auditorium and noticed the two Chucks walking out right by my side. I could just reach out and touch them... I could just say hello and shake their hands.

Feeling overwhelmed with groupie-like excitement, I gushed to Silpa about my wonderment and awe. Silpa, a wordly-wise 3L who was guiding my section, was sympathetic and told me that I would get used to it soon. She once had to coordinate several events at the law school and in one week met 3 Supreme Court Justices. She sat next to Ruth Bader Ginsburg at a dinner. She had dinner with Ruth Bader Ginsburg!


Later on that afternoon, in that same glorious auditorium, Dean Elena Kagan addressed the entire class of new 1Ls. Her slick words seemed to echo the naive feelings of wonderment that I felt. She told us that we are lucky to have the opportunity to meet, be taught by, and interact with the greatest legal figures of our time (professors, alumni, and current students). Imagine what one could do.

She encouraged us to find our passions and to pursue them fully. Now, I've been known to be a pretty hard-core cynic, but maybe it was the architecture, or the near brush with celebrity, or just the giddiness of starting law school...but I took her words to heart.

Later on at the reception, I made it a point to bump into her, say hello, and shake her hand.

The First Day

Today was my first day of law school. Sort of.

Today was actually my first day of orientation. But much anticipation had been building towards it anyway. Today was the first day I would meet my classmates and get acquainted with the law school.

Suddenly, I was transported to Sept 1, 1994, the year I began my freshman year of highschool. Would I meet friends? Would people like me? And above all, what was I going to wear?! (We were going to be taking class pictures that day).

I settled on something classy yet casual, a black boat neck tank top and a dark, pencil-shaped denim skirt. To add a dash of whimsy, I looped my double pearl stranded belt through my skirt loops and slipped on a large-ish marcasite ring shaped in a floral motif. And of course, my fabulously expensive red patent leather purse and black sandal wedges completed the ensemble. I was ready.

Orientation began at 9:30 a.m. in a large lecture hall. Though there are about 500 1L's (first year law students) in the school, they are split into 6 sections to make you feel less lost. My section, Section 3, met in Austin Hall East and was welcomed by our section leader, Professor Hay, who will also be teaching us Civil Procedures.

Professor Hay strikes me as your typical absent minded professor, who's aging well. As he introduced himself to the class, I couldn't help but wonder, Did he feel nervous? Did he have first day jitters like the rest of us? He seemed a little flustered.

Prof. Hay's first instructions were for us to turn to our neighbors, find out about them, and then introduce them to the class. They in turn would introduce us. I thought that was a clever way to dispel ego anxiety.

One after another, each of us spoke in turn about the new classmate sitting next to us. Many students tried very hard to be funny during their schpiels.

One successful student started by addressing the class, "How many of you have seen Eyes Wide Shut?" 75% of the section raised their hands. He continued, "Well, then, you've seen Dan." The room fills with gasps of excitement. "Dan was that guy at the piano...except instead of a blindfold and people making out, its more like yamakuhs and barmitzvahs." (wild laughter)

Another successfully comic student said, "Harry spent last year in Bolivia. He said it was, in his own words, 'good.'" (wild laughter)

Unfortunately this spawned spin offs that were painfully unfunny. I'm cringing now just thinking about it. For instance, the person after the succesfully comic student above said, "Beth spent the last year teaching English in China. She said, and I quote, 'It was really fun.'" (silence...crickets chirping)

I introduced Rebecca, likely the oldest student in our section. She graduated college in 1990 and has devoted her life to environmental science, specifically water and hazardous waste.

I decided early on to deliver everything straight so as not to risk falling on a bad joke. But as soon as I opened with a very enthusiastic, "Hi, This is Rebecca!" there was already rippling laughter throughout the room. Later, my classmate Aaron unwittingly revealed to me the source of the classes' amusement when he said, "Hey, you're the really blonde one." Well, there you go. I didn't survive ONE day without being known as the legally blonde one.

Incidentally, that's the class movie we're watching together later on in the week.

All in all, people seemed to be trying very hard. Trying to be funny, trying to be likeable, trying to hide their extreme nervousness, and trying not to seem pretensious.

As each person was being introduced, I think, in all our minds, the question arose, "What is their secret power?" aka "How did they get into this school?"

But if people had secret powers, none were really revealed. Sure, there were a lot of world travelers, but that's not really beyond the reach of "normal" folks. And there were the occasional Masters or PhD graduates, but graduate programs in certain liberal arts aren't all that competitive...it's mostly just a lot of elbow grease.

Maybe some people were wondering what my "secret power" was. If so, my intro sure didn't reveal anything. I labelled myself as the pastor's wife/piano teacher.

But frankly (and sadly), it wasn't a sly attempt at modesty. It's really just all there is.