Example of Thinking Like a Law Student and Not Like a Lawyer
From Shelley’s Case:
A week ago, the professor asked us to write an analysis re: an inpatient hospital reimbursement appeal. S/he divided our class into two teams, one focused on procedural issue, the other focused on substantive issue.
Both teams looked at the relevant CFR the professor had provided and applied legal analysis to the facts. We each came up with an analysis and presented them to the professor over the weekend.
Today the professor chastised us. S/he was disappointed that we were thinking like law students, not attorneys. S/he advised us to stop thinking like law students and start analyzing like an attorney.
The words stung and puzzled us. Most of the students were 3L’s. We worked during summer under the supervision of attorneys. We thought we were thinking and analyzing like attorneys. What did the professor mean when s/he said we were thinking like law students?
Could it be that for this assignment, we were not digging deeper? That we were not creative in grasping little clues? Could it be that the summer experience was a superficial experience where we were told to do specific tasks but not trained to look deeper into a case?
What does it take to think like an attorney? I thought I had the answer but now I wonder if I really did.
A Day In The Life Of A Law Review Editorial Board Member
From Frequent Citations:
It’s all meetings and editing, these days. I read and read and edit and edit and read some more, and when I’m not doing that I go to meetings, and when I’m not doing that I try to read for class.
Today, for instance:
5:30 am. Roll out of bed and head to the gym with two Comments. Read them while on the torture device exercise machine.
7:15 am. Get to school. Don’t even bother to open up laptop, but pull out the bankruptcy reading and try to get through it in the next hour. More or less succeed.
8:30 am. Go to class. Take notes like crazy.
9:30 am. Back to the library, buckle down and read for the next class.
10:30 am. Finish reading and start working on an edit.
11:45 am. Stop editing and start preparing for meeting.
12:15 pm. Meeting with lots and lots of headache-inducing discussion and no food.
1:29 pm. Dash to the cafe to grab some sort of pseudo-nourishment.
1:30 pm. Class. Take notes as much as possible while distracted by new edit that just came in.
2:30 pm. Work on edit.
5:00 pm. Finish edit and send it off, think about posting, do assorted email chores.
5:30 pm. Meet with fellow board member and discuss developments.
6:10 pm. Come back and finish post before doing reading for tomorrow, reading 4 Comments, and working on the next editing job.
Whee. Sometime in there I should probably eat, but I’m not clear on when it will be.
Being a 3L in Law School is a Strange Thing
From Shelley’s Case:Â
It is strange to enjoy the priority registration period as a rising 3L. It sounds even kind of funny for me to say “3L†because it was always “those upperclassmen†and “absentee students†— and in a few months, I am going to be one of those “3L’s.†So strange, so very strange.
I suppose being a 3L would be pretty much the same as a 2L — interviewing for better jobs, taking some more bar classes, etc, etc. The only other difference I could see is that I would be able to get the best lockers in school (not that I ever used mine since my first year) and that I would be able to take 2-3 classes reserved only for 3L’s. Oh, of course, there is the whole thing about being scared about the Bar Exam, but that I have a whole year to get over that.
