Wonders of the Ancient and Modern World

This is Zeus:

And this is Babylon:

I spent a few days with them while a member of my ward was in the hospital. On all four legs, they are as tall as my ribs. On two legs, they are as tall as me. They’re both very sweet and calm, unless the cat across the street is in the front yard taunting them:

I’m pretty sure they thought I was boring because I didn’t do anything except read while I was there. My six classes for the week translated into a few hundred pages of reading.

So far, my favorite thing about summer classes is that they are less intense. There are only six or eight people in each class. With fewer people and smaller rooms the atmosphere can’t help but be more relaxed. We are covering a lot of material quickly, but it doesn’t feel rushed. At least, not yet; maybe that will change in three weeks when we aren’t yet done with course material and finals are a week away.

We spent one Evidence class in the McGlothlin Courtroom, where our professor gave us a quick tour of the state-of-the-art features. The courtroom has numerous electronic gadgets for the judges, lawyers, court staff, and jury. It also has a podium that rotates 359 degrees. (It only goes that far because a few years ago an unknown law student demonstrated that three complete rotations would pull out all the cables underneath.)

The courtroom stays up to date by accepting products on loan from various companies, trying them out, and providing courtroom design consulting. The black chairs are among the more comfortable office chairs I’ve sat in (as I’m not a great fan of office chairs, that’s high praise). I also like the light on the ceiling (even if it does lead to a lot of unwanted glare on computer screens).

For one Professional Responsibility class, we had a guest “client” come in (he is actually a police officer in Newport News). He portrayed one of my professor’s former clients and reminded us all that not everyone has the same reasonable worldview that we do. From the client’s perspective, his actions were perfectly within his rights and the Commonwealth of Virginia had no right to interfere. From the Commonwealth’s perspective, the client’s actions were reprehensible (and ultimately illegal).

That class reinforced my aversion to criminal law, but it also reminded me of a thought I had while I was deciding to go to law school. One of my hesitations in going into law was that I might have to defend someone when I knew that they had done something wrong. But then I thought of Christ. One of His roles is being an Advocate. And every single person He advocates for has done something wrong. While I cannot even approach the Savior’s perfect justice and mercy, that thought eased my mind. If I can be an advocate in some small way and do some good in the world, I’ll be content.

Thank You, New Yorker

After a week off, yesterday I started doing homework again. Summer classes haven’t started yet, but law professors typically assign reading for the first day (which is tomorrow). That allows them to jump right into the course material when class begins. That practice is especially applicable to summer classes because they only last five weeks and each class session is long. We have to have something to talk about (besides the syllabus) for our first two hour class.

This looks like the ocean, but it's the James River (see map below).
I stopped by one day during my week off.

My first class is Evidence. It isn’t about how to present evidence for a lawsuit or the best way to prove a case, it’s about the rules that govern what evidence a lawyer can and cannot use. For example, a lawyer cannot submit evidence that is irrelevant, redundant, or meant only to waste the opponent’s time and money.

So far I’m pleased with the textbook for Evidence; it has cartoons.

I was standing in the "you are here" area on the left.
Jamestown is on the right side of the map.

My second class is Professional Responsibility, which is about the law that governs lawyers. One of the main topics is how to balance the needs of a client with the moral responsibility to do what’s right (because those two duties don’t always align perfectly).

This is a Yorktown Snowflower Tree.
You can probably see how it gets its name (close-up below).

I’m also a fan of the PR textbook. In the introduction, it decries the “autopsy method” used in so many law classes in favor of a story problem approach. Rather than dissecting a judge’s analysis of the problem by reading and discussing a court opinion, the book gives situations based on real cases and lets the students do their own analysis. (Ethical Problems in the Practice of Law, 3d Edition; Lerman and Schrag, 2012, p. xxxvi.) Although I don’t know whether either method is more useful or effective, I love the term “autopsy method.”

Flowers on the Yorktown Snowflower Tree.

I also like the PR book because in its list of changes (presumably improvements) from the previous edition, it includes the following: “We have increased the number of New Yorker cartoons from 22 to 31.” (Id. p. xxxvii.)

A sense of humor is a good quality in a textbook.

I have no idea what these are. But they look neat.

Like a Child

This was a hard week, but it started with a tender mercy last Sunday. We had a special Stake meeting because Elder Bednar was in town. It was a privilege to hear from him in that setting; it was more relaxed than General Conference and he shared some personal stories with us. There were some things that I needed to hear, and they came through the stories he shared.

As I’ve pondered over those messages this week, I’ve felt more like a little child than I have in a long, long time. It’s felt like learning to tie my shoes, ending up with the laces in a knot, and knowing that even though my shoes aren’t falling off, the bows don’t look quite the way they’re supposed to. It’s also felt like falling off while learning to ride a bike, feeling sore, and not being sure I want to get back on. I imagine it’s felt the same as learning to walk.

Those messages from last Sunday came with the same disparity of strength and wisdom as a parent would give to a child trying to tie shoes, ride a bike, or walk. It was as if someone was next to me telling me, “You can do this!”, “That try was ok; don’t worry, you’ll do better next time”, and “You’re doing the right thing, just keep going.”

I’m so grateful the Lord sent His servant to bring me those messages.

There were some pleasant events at the end of this week as well. I went on a short walking/ghost tour through part of the colony with some members of my ward (one of the ward members is a licensed tour guide; giving tours through the colony without a license will get you a ticket). The stories were interesting and diverting, and we followed up the tour with ice cream cones at Baskin Robins.

Also, I finally went for my first bike ride of the year, and took a few pictures along the way to document the end of spring. (At least, it feels like the end of spring to me. It’s been muggy and summerish the last few days.)

And, I talked with my mom today, who is wonderful and good. As the primary children sang for Mother's Day in Sacrament Meeting this morning, I wished I could go back to being a child for just a few minutes and sing for my mom in her meeting. Then follow it up with a big hug.

A Deeper Kind of Hard

This week was the end of my 1L year (sort of; there’s still Joint Journal Competition). I spent the first few days studying (or trying to convince myself to study). On Thursday morning I headed to school for my Constitutional Law final. After four hours, fifteen minutes, fifteen pages, and waiting in a long line to turn in a printed copy, it was all over. I walked slowly out to my car and headed home.

No, my fifteen page exam was not a long one. It was probably on the short side.

I didn’t feel intensely relieved like I did after exams last semester. I think my emotions had been wrung dry. I simply had no more energy to give. It was a hard year, and a hard semester.

Looking back, it’s strange to me that it was so hard. On the surface, the last few months appear so simple. I went to classes for a few hours each day. I did a lot of reading and thinking. I wrote a couple of papers and did some role plays. Occasionally I commented in class. In between all of that I was well taken care of: plenty of food, shelter, clothing, and spiritual and family resources, even leisure time.

But there is a deeper side to the last year, and especially the last few months. That is where it was hard.

Fall semester, for me, was about survival. Shortly after school began, I realized law school would be a different kind of hard. I expected to work hard, to spend many hours studying and doing homework. What I didn’t expect was how hard it would be to do the work. School had always come easily to me, but law school was different. It didn’t come naturally and intuitively. There were parts I didn’t enjoy (for example, all of criminal law). I wondered if I was really capable of succeeding.

But, as Mom has always advised me to do, I hung in there and finished the semester.

Spring semester I was less worried about survival, but I was confronted with weakness. I found myself weaker than I thought in almost every way.

Where I had prided myself on confidence and ability, I felt insecure and unqualified. Where I considered myself resilient, I felt protracted resistance. Physically, mentally, emotionally, socially; each area felt frail and fragile. Sometimes it was all I could do to get through the next assignment or the next week. Often I felt I was reaching a bare minimum of accomplishment, not the excellence of my past ideals. Many things touched me more deeply than I expected, almost to my very core.

I was a person who used to run ten miles a day without a second thought struggling to get through a mile and wondering how all that lead ended up in my shoes.

It was a deeper kind of hard.

Finally, a couple of weeks ago, I felt like I had turned a corner. I wasn’t at the end yet, but I could see it. I knew I was going to make it. On Thursday as I drove home, I was just grateful to be done.

Looking back, two things got me though the semester. First, was reliance on Jesus Christ. If there was one area of my life that didn’t feel weaker than I expected, it was in spirituality. I am by no means a spiritual giant, but I knew the Lord brought me here and He was aware of me, my weaknesses, and what He wanted me to do. While all my strength felt under siege, that knowledge was a rock to hang on to and a source of hope.

“And if men come unto me I will show unto them their weakness. I give unto men weakness that they may be humble; and my grace is sufficient for all men that humble themselves before me; for if they humble themselves before me, and have faith in me, then will I make weak things become strong unto them.” Ether 12:27.

My other strength has been my parents. I feel so blessed to have parents who support and encourage and cheer for me in everything I do. Parents who believe in me when I have a hard time believing in myself. Parents who are righteous and committed to God, each other, and their family. The other day I was thinking about the simple refuge my home has always been. As I paused I had a little glimpse of the impact my parents have had on my life. I was amazed and grateful.

So I made it to the end of the semester. And I feel reasonably confident I’ll make it through the next two years. I know my weaknesses aren’t gone, but eventually they will become strong.

In the meantime, I’m getting back to work. Supposedly, my 1L year is over; but that ignores the monster that is Joint Journal Competition. JJC is a writing competition for those who want to join one of the law school’s published journals. Those who chose to participate are given one week to distill a 600 page packet into a 10 page “comment.” So even though I’m technically a “rising 2L,” working on JJC makes me feel like I’m still a sort of quasi-1L.

I’m also making plans for the summer, getting back into running and biking, doing a little exploring, taking some classes, and making myself useful. As far as next year goes, I’m trying to approach it as Joseph Smith described in D&C 127:2: “[N]evertheless, deep water is what I am wont to swim in.”