I was brainstorming what I should write and my friend told me to write about law school. Maybe because now it’s my life – and that’s her life. We’re both first-year law students (aka 1Ls) in our second semester, but at different institutions. We’re good friends and we connect on several levels, but we can especially relate to law school.
It’s as if her struggle is my struggle, and vice versa. Likewise, her success is my success. We’re two sides of the same coin, going through the similar difficulties, albeit in two different climate zones. So when I write about law school, I reflect her stress, her worries, her doubts, just as much as I speak on mine. Regardless of our school’s different rankings, we both go through the same emotions.
So when I sit in the classroom taking notes, waiting for the eventual cold-call from the learned professor lecturing to our class about some area of law I first read about the night before, she’s doing the same thing. When she finds her favorite spot in the library to study and cracks open some heavy book on Contracts, I do the same thing with Torts. When I slowly succumb to the sleep that has been biting at me for 45 minutes as I study in my room, she’s does the same. When she wakes up and drearly stumbles to the bathroom sink to wash her face, I do the same. And when it’s really late and neither of us can take the mental stress of reading about legal doctrine, we call each other… and we talk.
This is what law school is. A long, hard marathon. The 2Ls and 3Ls all chide us 1Ls and tell us we’ll eventually get the hang of it – and I believe them. I know that both she and I will get through this first year. We’ll both get through the classes, the readings, the notes and outlines, the sleepless nights, the practice exams, the tests, the nights partying, and the section curves. And we’ll be fine.
But until that happens, I find solace in the silence of our phone conversations. I find solace in her. Heh, law school.
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