Maybe I should have thought of this already, but I guess a part of me still feels unqualified. I have been in school for as long as I can remember. It's hard to believe I'm applying now for real jobs that would start an actual career. Eeeek. Not that I wanted to continue as an unemployed person, but the idea of actually having a job, as a real lawyer, with no professors supervising me (though, of course, if I were to ever have a professor supervising again in my future, I'd really prefer to have a competent person supervising), handling, selecting and researching my own cases. The selection part is something I would REALLY like to do for myself--in clinic, I had to take whatever I was given, based on what would generate the largest amount of fees for the clinic, which basically translated into fluffy, school disability discrimination cases that I was told to push forward on regardless of whether or not there was actually a sustainable claim. But, really, all the rest of it makes me incredibly nervous. How different am I from the girl who showed up on the first day of orientation?
Orientation was pretty scary. We were divided up into peer groups, each peer group headed by a professor---and my group had Tom Cady. He's really just a showman, but I didn't know it then. He likes to yell at first years (and sometimes can't conceal his own glee at their distress) and frequently goes on long tirades about his status as a demigod set to bring down the laws of the gods to us mere mortals (or suing the bastards). He's a West Virginia institution in and of himself. Before you think that I am talking badly about him, let me admit that I really did like him. I especially liked when I saw a crack in the facade and he laughed or smiled in spite of himself. When I saw him in the hallway, he spoke to me in a very quiet voice that I almost couldn't hear. "Hello, Miss Wilcox," he would say, smiling politely and going on his way. The first time he did it, I was so shocked I didn't respond at all, but the more I watched him, the more I knew he wasn't the vicious person he painted himself as in torts class. But at orientation, he was pretty fearsome. We were assigned a case to read to discuss in our peer groups, and I (of course) had read it, dissected it, briefed it, printed it, brought it, highlighted it, and pretty much done everything possible except memorize it. He went through the class, asking who had printed it up and brought it with them. I had---saved. But my friend Savannah, and our other friend Megan, hadn't--and they weren't so lucky. He raged about unpreparedness and vowed that he had put a black mark by their name and wouldn't forget them---and he didn't.
I remember thinking that this was the most hostile environment I had ever been in. Disappointing, considering I was so looking forward to it. A person who has always liked school and thrived in an academic atmosphere, I (naively, it turns out) thought that I would enjoy law school, too. After our first class meeting, I went up to Savannah to tell her how mean I thought Professor Cady was (and I do still think it was a little harsh to do it on the first day, even though I have grown to appreciate his methods)--which was when we became friends. We've been buds all the way through and I'm pretty sure I wouldn't have made it this far without having her to complain to and go to the gym (to do more complaining) with.
On the first day of class, Savannah was the victim--again. In Civil Procedures (which, I am embarrassed to say, I had nooo idea what that class would possibly be about before I finished my first semester of law school), Professor cummings (yes, he insists on lowercase letters in his name because some where way down some obscure family line, he is related to e e cummings--weird, I know) swept into the classroom and immediately said, "Miss Hull, what is due process?" Sitting next to her, even I shook in my little shoes.
Nowadays, I wouldn't even skip a beat with a question like that and, unless cummings asked her again (because poor Savannah developed an unhealthy fear of him after that first day, and I can't say I blame her), I know Savannah would be able to answer quickly and succinctly just about any question that a professor could possibly pose to her. We have come such a long way--and still sometimes I feel like I'm not very far away from the scared little doe caught in the headlights 1L I was just a few short years ago.
It's hard to believe I'm cleaning out my apartment, taking my pictures off the walls and even taking home all my highlighters, post-its, binders, casebooks, and even my trusty Bluebook. I packed up all my wine glasses (there were a lot!) and vases and even most of my clothes. The things that remain are the things I need every day--dishes and silverware, shower stuff, a spare set of sheets, my DVD collection and my tv. Well, and all the furniture.
It seems like just yesterday that I was moving in. I came the night before my parents and sat on the floor and cried, so scared about what I was about to do. After they left me there alone, I cried some more. I was in a new state at a new school in a new town where I knew nobody and couldn't even find the Wal-Mart. And now I'm so far into this that my apartment is being taken down---it will never again look the way it did when I really lived here. For some reason, that makes me sad. It was my first apartment on my own, and I'm a little sad to lose it---but, of course, not at all sad to move back home, take the bar, get a job, and start a life. So I guess although I'm mostly happy, my happiness is tinged with a little bit of regret.
This was my living room... The couch and the tables are still there, but most of the decoration is gone...
All of this stuff is gone---just a blank white wall.
My desk! I painted the hutch all by myself! That's going home tomorrow.
Well, obviously my bed is still there---I'm not going to sleep on the couch for six weeks!
Yup, tie dyed those sheets myself, too. Well, anyway, it has been a great apartment. Law school has been okay, but I am looking forward to moving past it and to the next phase of my life. With every movie/tv show/commercial I watch, my desire to be a happily married person with a career and a future. But still, it is sad that I will never live again my apartment, the way it was when law school was in full swing.
Have I come a long way or am I the same person? Sometimes I feel like I'm completely different, and sometimes I still feel the shadow of the scared 1L shift in the back of my mind. It's exciting (and scary) to get started with a new phase in life, but I'm ready to face the challenge head on. Even though I still feel like, "OMG, I'm going to be a lawyer!"
....Oh shit.
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