free advice for future 1Ls, part 1

So it’s summer, and you’re starting law school in the fall. You have about two or three short months before school starts and you’re scouring the internet for information. You don’t have to pretend like you’re not. I know you are. I was in your shoes just one year ago. It’s okay, we’re all friends here. As it turns out, I have some advice for ya. And it’s free. I know, right?! It’s so hard to find free advice on the interwebz, but it’s your lucky day today because you’ve stumbled into the right place.

But first things first. I’m gonna give you this free advice, and most likely you’re not going to follow it, at least not at first. It’s okay. This is pretty normal. What would be great, though, is if at the end of your 1L year, one year from now, you could come back to this blog and comment and tell me how you thought I was totally full of shit a year ago, but it turns out I was right after all. Now that would make me really happy. Or, if after a full year of law school you still think I’m full of shit, you can come back and post that, too. But if you do that, be sure to use that special white font that shows up really well against the background so evvvvverybody can read it.

Also, a disclaimer is probably in order here: I’m not like the best, most successful law student ever. Not even close. I’m not claiming that I made the best grades in my section or in my class. Again, not even close. I didn’t have some grand strategy going in that I’m going to impart here. I only read part of one preparatory book before school started. But somehow–mostly luck, I think–I did make decent grades in my first year, and I’ll tell you the things I think I did right and the things I would do differently if I could go back. Not that I would want to go back. Good lord, no.

I’m going to do a series of these posts because I have too much to say to fit into one. So today’s post, grasshoppers, is actually more of a confidence-building exercise than anything else. You’re feeling apprehensive and nervous about starting law school in the fall, and today I’m going to try to make you feel a little less antsy. Which is a weird role for me, now that I think about it. But anyway. Don’t expect this trend to continue for very long.

So. I know how it is. For the next couple of months, you really want to read all sorts of books to prepare for law school. You may have already started reading some of them. You may have filled up your to-read list with twenty different law school prep books. You need to know the answers to burning questions like these: how do you brief a case? should I type up the briefs or book brief? what the hell is book briefing, anyway? what is the Socratic method? how does the curve work? what should I expect to see on exams? why does everybody say that law school is just like high school???

Here’s the deal. You can read all the preparatory books and blog posts that are out there–and there are a ton of them–and you still won’t be prepared for law school. Law school is such a unique experience, and reading about it just won’t cut the mustard. You have to just get in there and figure out how it works as you go. Now, will it hurt you to read all 54,786 books on how to prepare for law school? Probably not. But will you still be just as lost as everybody else is for the first six or eight or ten weeks or even longer? You’d better believe it.

The thing is, it’s okay to be lost for a while. It’s normal. In fact, it’s unavoidable. Everybody is lost for a while. I don’t care who it is or how much they appear not to be lost–they are L-O-S-T LOST. Trust me when I say this, grasshopper. There will be people about whom you think oh my god, he knows all the answers when he gets called on in class; he’s probably going to be number 1 when rankings come out. Or, there will be some person who sits somewhere in front of you, and on his computer during class he has all these really neat-looking charts and tables and graphs and colorful study aids with stick figures and thought bubbles, along with a rainbow of highlighters out on the desk for every class (I’m not making this up, you guys) and you’ll think oh my god, this guy is gonna clean house on exams and ruin the curve for all the rest of us. Or, there will be some girl who ends up dating an upperclassman and who talks constantly about getting outlines and exam-taking tips from her beau and his friends, and you’ll think oh my god, this chick has hit the relationship lottery and I’m just out of luck. Or, there will be some girl who literally sits in the lawbrary with her books open for 15 hours a day, not counting class time, and you’ll think oh my god, this girl is so devoted to studying, she must have no social life, and she’s gonna kick ass on exams. And people will whisper about who’s really smart and who’s not, and people will assume that their study techniques and materials are so horribly inferior that they’re destined for failure.

And then you’ll take exams and grades will come out. And guess what? Not one of those people even lands in the top quarter of your class. Okay, maybe the chick who lived in the lawbrary does, but not one of the others does. You know why? Of course you don’t, grasshopper, but I’m going to tell you. It’s because on an exam, the following things don’t amount to a hill of beans: whether you were a Socratic method ace or you got humiliated by the professor in class; whether you had the most up-to-date technology for studying with flashy graphics or the best highlighters in all the universe; whether you had a boyfriend, girlfriend, or friend who had that particular professor before and gave you ten outlines for that class (although that can help, but that’s for another post); or whether you spent 15,647 hours in the lawbrary. The ONLY thing that matters at exam time is whether you can properly apply the law to the facts that your professor has plopped in front of you, and whether you can do so within time constraints and in a coherent, logical way that demonstrates your literacy mastery of the English language. That’s it. The rest is completely, totally, wholly irrelevant.

The point I’m trying to make here is that you can’t possibly adequately prepare for law school before law school starts. It’s just not possible. I don’t care what anybody says, or what any book claims–everybody goes in to law school confused as hell, and a lot of people stay that way for the better part of their first year. If you’re serious about doing well in law school, just accept the fact that you’re going to be lost and confused, and instead spend at least part of your summer honing your writing skills. If you had someone look over your personal statement and you got it back with more than two corrections, I’m talking to you. Learn how to use punctuation properly. Learn the difference between your and you’re; their, there, and they’re; it’s and its. Learn how to freaking SPELL, for god’s sake. If you find yourself using text language a lot (wat r u doing, ok cya l8ter, dont b a h8ter), break that habit NOW. When your professor is trying to decide who gets the A and who gets the B on exams that are equally well reasoned, the winner will always be the better writer.

Next time, I will shed some light on things you’ll be told at orientation, some of which is good advice, most of which is bogus crap. Stay tuned!