The time has come, my friends.
The Finale.
All these years of devotion, of dedication, of trials and tribulations and moments of seeking one's destiny. All for this one chance to prove. it. all.
I'm not talking about Harry freakin' Potter, PEOPLE!
July 25th marks the beginning of a three day battle of wit, speed, & intelligence for newly graduated juris doctorate students everywhere, proving their worth to join the ranks in the field of law.
The Bar.
I've held that Lady Justice, blind and still trusted with a sword, has been the "other woman" in my life for the last three and half years (though "Celia" translated in Latin also means "blind"... how do you like me now, LJ?!). Since John entered law school, I've sat patiently while he spends late nights in the library, weekends included, missing family gatherings and friend's birthdays and sales at Banana Republic while outlines and note cards and briefs and essays take all too serious precedent. I've watched quietly while John slowly turns his blood vessels into streams of coffee and Diet Coke and 5 Hour Energies to squeeze in those last hours of the day. I've listened carefully as John vents his frustrations about professors and material and impossible situations. I've concluded, slowly, that our plans to make that everlasting commitment to one another is going to have to stay on hold... until I get rid of that little hoe-bag, taunting me with her scales.
Now, I think I've been pretty good about not speaking my mind when it comes to being the significant other of a law student. Seeing that I've never set foot in a law class and often still have wild notions of Elle Woods-ian kinds of stories, I felt that I never deserved or had the right to complain - I'm not the one who lives in fear of being called on in class every day. But more so, nearly all the law students I've befriended over the years do little complaining themselves. Maybe it's because they don't think I'll understand; maybe it's because they don't want to bore me. Or, maybe, it's because they are simply some of the strongest, smartest people I know.
But even the strongest of them succumb to the kryptonite that is the Bar Examination. It is quite possibly the most sadistically designed system known to professional certification and academia. And not just the Bar itself; the testing is only the half of it. As I sit here on this incredibly gorgeous Sunday, the day before John walks into the testing venue and life as we know it will begin to change, I can't help but be so frustrated and anxious with the coming days.... and, in essence, the coming months. Inspired by conversations with friends, this post by a former law student, and a similar situation by fellow blogging friend, Nikki at The Loaded Handbag (though she was on the medical side... be sure to read all 5 parts for full effect), I felt compelled to make my one and only rant on being a law school lover.
- First of all, imagine your grandiose graduation commencement being shrouded by a cloud of yet more studying and classwork. That's right, people. After three exhausting years of law school (and all the work getting yourself into law school), your graduation hardly means you're in the clear. John graduated on a Friday morning; by that following Monday, he was already back in class for Bar review. Five days a week, all day long, two and a half months to go. GOOD. BYE. any hopes of enjoying the summer.
- Now imagine your program in undergrad: Imagine you had two months to re-study EVERYTHING you've ever done. Imagine this is now graduate level, needing to know things in full detail, AND if you somehow didn't get into a class that would be presented on this horrible exam - good luck teaching yourself an entire semester's worth of information. Imagine no study guides to even begin narrowing down the information. Imagine bleeding your highlighter dry on the first day.
- To make things more exciting, the Bar examiners expect you to be proficient in legal statutes and code UP TO the time of the test. For instance, a legal matter of insurance here in SC was just put into effect as of Friday... everything the students have learned up until this point could be totally altered, if not completely wrong now. Yes, Bar administrators will take it into account.
- You can't be a practicing attorney until you've passed the Bar. Fair enough - we expect our lawyers to be competent in the law, just as our doctors in medicine or our educators in teaching. However, there's a serious gap in time and circumstances that seem horribly overlooked:
.:: Graduation = mid-May. Bar exam = end of July. Results = END OF OCTOBER. After three years of law school, nearly three months of studying, and three days of testing (I have mentioned testing is three full days, right?)... it takes almost three months to know if it was all worth it.
.:: So, not only were you squeezing the last of your students loans to help you survive through the summer while you can't work because your job is studying for this frickin'-frackin' test, but now you have to sit and wait another three months to see if you're actually good for something. Did I mention the average student debt for law students is $100,000 and loans are expected to be repaid immediately after graduation? Did I also mention the legal market is PAINFUL? Last I read (and sorry for being unable to find the report) but there's approximately one attorney position for every three law graduates here in South Carolina. In some states its worse, with 8-12 per every one position.
.:: Throwing salt in the wound, budgets for most agencies and corporations run on a July 1 - June 30th schedule. Meaning, most places won't know what the hiring forecast is like until early or mid-June. MEANING, if you've been applying to be hired once the Bar is over at the end of July (to work as what are known as "super clerks" - attorneys in that betwixt stage of graduation and awaiting their Bar accreditation), there's a darn good chance they'll call you with a "We're sorry, but we can't afford to hire any new positions" speech. Which is exactly what happened to many people I know. So? Now you're a few weeks away from the biggest, scariest, toughest test of your LIFE - the one that determines if all your late nights in the library, your extreme amount of debt, your three years of completely detaching yourself from the real world and the people in it to pursue your dream of a legal career - and you're left to duke it out with your colleagues (even your own friends) for a shot at being employed. But, unfortunately, any time spent searching for jobs means time away from studying. And if you don't pass... you're certainly out of the running. - Even more degrading is how you find out about the test. A nice private note in the mail? A phone call from a concerned Bar examination support team? A private little room a'la American Idol where you sit down and review your work and your overall result? NO! On that cold, dreary day in October, you log on to a stupid website (that anyone can look up - here's an example from the February 2010 SC Bar) where the names of all who passed are published for the whole world to see. Great if you did pass. For those that didn't, you have an "identifying number" published at the bottom. AWESOME.
- Pretend instead of your name at the top, you see your number at the bottom. After the initial trauma and devastation begins to let up, you're faced with two options: running away and joining the circus, or taking the Bar again. Should you choose to re-take it, you have to wait. UNTIL FEBRUARY. Four more months of studying, no employment, and loans still piling up. You'll have to survive Thanksgiving, Christmas, and New Years surrounded by family and friends who all know YOU. DIDN'T. PASS. After taking the Bar the 2nd time, provided you do pass this time, you'll have to wait until May to get your results. The waiting game continues.
For John, myself, and many people in the same boat, we're all so ready for it simply to be over with... but at the same time, we're terrified of what's to come next. Several have tried to imagine how they'll react if they fail. Some act like they already have. Preparing for the worst seems to be the only coping mechanism for many.
John and all of his law school friends and colleagues (and should you know any law students going through the same thing) don't need cheerleaders. They don't need to hear "you'll be fine" or "you'll totally pass" or "you can always take it again." They don't need examples of people who failed the first time and "turned out okay." They don't need testing or stress-management advice.
They need prayers, a listening ear, and the knowledge that their closest friends & family are thinking good thoughts and sending them positive vibes... and are willing to be supportive no matter what the results.
For those of us who have held their hands through this experience - the significant others, the siblings, the parents, the mentors and close friends - pray for us, too. We're going to have to know what to say should the worst happen as it happens. All this time there's been little we could do: we'd slow them down if we helped them study, we'd be in the way if we tried to plan "exam breakers," etc. The best we can do is "be there." And personally as someone who's prone to fixing problems and wants to see things go as smoothly as possible, it's been disheartening to know that even my biggest attempts and best intentions might not be enough....
I doubt I'll sleep well the next few days. I doubt more John will get any better rest. I know law school didn't truly prepare him or his colleagues for this experience, but I do know he's done all that he could. It's up to circumstance and the Big Guy at this point.
And on Wednesday night, it will be up to Jose.
