Scoplaw

Whew - Kenny's OK.

Someone told me that somebody crashed the Section3 Wiki site.  Apparently, reports of its death were greatly exaggerated, although I'm disappointed that nobody's added any outlines recently.

Looking back 4 years, I have to say that our Section 3 was a truly interesting and progressive bunch.  As a kind of blast from the past, I thought I'd repost our manifesto.  Plus, because I've picked up extra trial cases for next week (trial partner is very sick again), I don't have tons of time to blog with.  How's that for a realist perspective?  Not that I've been doing much besides watching movies with PDs and trying to limit my own sickness via copious amounts of western medicine.  Oh - I ate some alligator and saw a couple of fem. punk bands.  That was cool.  But here's the manifesto.  It's always good to kick the tires:

RETHINKING the LEGAL CURRICULUM:

Does Section 3 go far enough?

American legal culture is plagued by seemingly intractable problems, of which hierarchy, bias, and ideological paralysis are just a few. These problems (which reflect and perpetuate a larger capitalist, racist, sexist, speciesist, ageist, imperialist culture) are replicated in and by law schools, which inculcate and indoctrinate law students into this evil hegemonic empire. The alienation, marginalization and infantilazation of students is a particular problem of hierarchical legal classrooms, and so student empowerment must be a necessary part of any larger reform project.

In light of this, we affirm the necessity of our alternative curriculum, and we affirm its success on many levels. We recognize that the curriculum reflects a variety of voices and agendas, and that we are only able to advance the following critique due to the education it has given us. Our criticisms and suggestions come from a place of love, solidarity, and support for the community which bore this project and which has encouraged its growth and acceptance.

As a collective of students in one section of one law school in the U.S., we realize that our reformist reach is very local, at least for now. We begin where we are, as students in the longest-running attempt at an alternative vision of what law school, and hence the legal profession, might be. In order to remain fluid, flexible, and free from institutional constraints we believe that an informal, anti-establishment, "underground" mobility is necessary. By refusing to be co-opted into committees, boards, or administrative-based initiatives, we reserve the right to change course, change leadership, change tactics, and change our minds. This dynamism is the only way to keep from becoming another frozen wing of legal reality. Our goals are and must remain concrete; though dialogue is central to our mission it will not replace substantive change.

We believe that for Curriculum B to remain meaningful, it also must retain a skeptical and critical stance, that it must be a permanent revolution in legal education. In the spirit of dynamic collaboration and cooperation we offer our own perspectives on the ways in which Curriculum B might grow.

We want to build on the sense of community already present in Curriculum B by organizing collective sources of student power and refusing to compartmentalize our lived experience and goals for future social change as something incidental to our legal education.

Curriculum B is centered on a Legal Realist critique of Classical Legal Thought. The overt inclusion of Realist critique and analysis into the first year classroom is a radical step forward in a time when Langdellian categories and methods still rule curricula at almost every law school. In de-naturalizing the Classical Liberal categories, however, many of the professors still cling to formalistic and categorical techniques. Critiquing white, male, classical liberal thought from a white, male, leftist perspective is not sufficient. Having a one-class conversation about feminist theory and critical race theory is insufficient. Having no professors of color save one small-section leader is insufficient. The paucity of voices from the bottom -- from perspectives of poverty or minority status -- in our classrooms and in our syllabi must be addressed.

The curriculum purports to be integrative, but in fact disenfranchises poor, women and minority voices by excluding them from the central narrative about law. Students and teachers are let off the hook from having to seriously engage in critiques of our basic legal structure, which allows for such oft-heard comments as "Feminism is interesting, but it's not jurisprudence."

Despite the progress Curriculum B represents, it still forefronts and reacts to the Classical Liberal categories, painting such "outside" critiques from gender, race, or class as exceptional, deviant, about something other than Jurisprudence. Most of our professors still hide behind the mask of neutrality -- their presentation of deconstruction purports to flatten differences between positions, revealing each of them as equally indeterminate and equally available for our adoption. This problematic "neutralization" of profoundly important political positions represents a disempowering and demoralizing way to present the realist critique, depriving it of real political force.

We are still primarily using the Langdellian method of reading appellate and Supreme Court cases, hearing the voices of the powerful describe the lives of the powerless, shutting out the voices of the parties themselves. We often read these cases in isolation from the specific social and political dynamics which gave rise to them, which reduces our engagement to the purely theoretical, or to issues of black letter law. While we acknowledge that case-reading is an important skill, we question whether it must be the backbone of nearly every class to the exclusion of other texts.

In addition to seeking changes in substantive elements, we also advocate for further refinements to the pedagogical structure of Curriculum B.

We seek a greater change in hierarchical classroom dynamics, one aspect of which is looking for creative solutions to the problem of equitably and accurately evaluating our understanding of legal issues. The old model of a single three hour exam, graded all but arbitrarily and against one's classmates, is so ineffective as to be offensive. We require more feedback, more opportunity for discussion, more disruption, more dialogue, and methods of evaluation which do not foster unhealthy competition.

We need a tutorial program that is meaningful and challenging. The Legal Practice class contains great potential for small-group learning and honing skills useful in advocacy (i.e., in actual practice), but that opportunity is wasted with an unfocused, corporate approach.

Above all, students must be able to offer true critiques to professors so that we may work together to find the most effective pedagogical methods. It seems obvious that existing methods, traditional or no, employed by the vast majority of other law schools or no, should be critically evaluated and jettisoned in favor of other models if they produce negative effects, or fail to maximize the student's learning experience.

As students must be empowered to be lawyers who will challenge the existing social order, student engagement with substantive and pedagogical development in legal education is both inevitable and desirable. Creating spaces and supporting students who do this is important, but it must be better integrated into the law school experience, not ghettoized into "public interest" programs and the like. Both the positive and negative experiences of law school carry into the legal profession as a whole; if we seek to address pressing issues for the legal profession such as corruption, alcohol and substance abuse, job dissatisfaction, moral relativism, myopic advocacy, and self-centeredness, we ought to begin at the beginning.

And on a Slightly-More-Serious-But-Rambly Note (with Parenthetical Asides)

I’m going to head into work now, after a day of getting small house-projects done. I’ll be using substandard resources (no one would choose *this* level of resources to defend themselves) in an attempt to defend individuals constitutional rights and freedoms, to say nothing of their basic not-being-in-a-metal-cage-liberties, in front of an increasingly accepting and uncritical public. It’s the best job; it’s the worst job. But what else would I want to do with myself in the early 21^st century America? I hope my (frankly, highly theoretical) grandkid’s kids would not think me too much of a placidly embarrassing exemplar of this particular generation.

A lot of law-school-friend/acquaintance news has just rolled in, given the NY and CA bar announcements, which has sent me wool gathering. The juxtaposition of the reality of my job and my (thankfully fading) memories of law school is just plain scary. I must note, that some-small-bit out of law school, my opinions on the general ridiculousness/ineffectiveness of law school have not changed.  It’s rare that you see someone who brings their heart out of law school indoctrination in the same condition (I know I haven’t), unless, of course, your heart is so shaped that it can always and only hold a faux-race-neutral, empty-Christian, late 19^th Century Capitalism, expressed by combatively engaging others who disagree with you.  Meh. 

Where do we find the robust humanism which must inform both law and justice for us to survive as a moral and loving people? Everywhere I think, but in case-law. It’s certainly found in the small and normal acts of humanity expressed in the face of the very artificial law/law school/bar exam standards.

Thus I wanted to thank all the student blawgers, legal blawggers, and particularly the criminal law bloggers, who share themselves (aspects of themselves) with us. The most grand universal principals are always and only embodied in the particular, not matter how banal those particulars may seem to some. It means a fair bit to hear how you all feel about the profession, even if it’s via the tribulations of dry cleaning.  We all need to be reminded that people do these jobs – and that lawyers, judges, victims and defendants are, above all, people.

Of course, I’m proud of all my fellow law students who kept their soundly-emoting hearts, which is probably the vast bulk of Section 3 (including Section 3’s of the past, and I pray, the future). When professors, intentionally or not, provide a model for one-upmanship and snarky commentary by focusing on (when you think about it) unsystematic legal rationales (sans any equitable analysis) drawn seemingly blindly out of caselaw, AND you’re set head-to-head with your classmates for jobs which depend on your coming out ahead (just ahead) of your fellows in regurgitating those “principles”. . .well, it’s just plain remarkable how the core of Section 3 comported itself in the first year and beyond.  I think we’ll appreciate this more and more as we go. (Of course, one can be in Section Other and not prove yourself an asshole, as so many of our fellows showed.)

And (to continue my ramble by leaping about in quasi-related topics) I am happy to report that nearly  everyone I’ve heard from seems to have passed their various bars. I know a lot of you tried to keep your sanity through it all by actively resisting the BarBri Fear Mongers and the general snarkiness of law students, and (see above) I appreciate that and am glad you survived and passed and can stand in front of judges. I am also hella-glad (I keep saying this, but believe me, the pressure brings out random parts of you. . .) for those who helped us do this. 

Although all these bar-passages are significant accomplishments, I wanted to make a special shout out to the CAnarchist who got her good news yesterday. Although there are many unblogables here, I think I *can* say that there was a point where she really didn’t know if she should spend the money/time on this particular round of the CA bar, which is arguably the hardest bar in the country. She was behind the prep curve and had multiple friends (who had failed the CA bar) cautioning her not to get her hopes up. So, for her to have decided to go forward anyway, then cranked CA, well, that says something.  (We have the same job on different oceans, which kind of tickles me – defending from sea to shining sea. We may soon be joined by the James Bond Watch, provided he does not get assigned to do his JAG defender stuff overseas.)

And to all my friends who may not have (yet!) passed the bar of their choice, let me say that a difficult test is just that – a difficult test. Take a pause. Think about the worthwhile things you’ve accomplished; those non-multiple-choice-testable things like treating people right and being a good person. Have faith in who you are beyond the assessment of a bar examiner. Then take the damn thing again and rock it.

(PS – if anyone is thinking about taking the FL bar, feel free to drop me a line.  Ditto for anyone thinking about interning/interviewing at our office.  I also have a West Palm PD contact who I can refer you to - no guarantees though.) 

Moustache Update

In response to multiple questions, yes, GULC has a moustache contest.

And no, I didn't grow mine *for* the contest, as it's limited to 1Ls (alas).

Section 3 men - you gotta do better than last year!

15 years and standing

Havard Law to change its first year program of study; conservative wish-they'd-gone-to-Harvard naysaysers who whine and sneer about Georgetown's Section Three /Curriculum "B", established in 1991, can officially go suck a nut.

Curious

After reading this, I was curious if anyone could place Tamboli in DC this Sunday?

Although the combination of the Red Bull and the Kraft Sauces is kind of creepy.  Imagine drinking a carton of Red Bull and trying to figure out what to do with 4 jars of Kraft Mayo. . .yeah, the mind just kind of rebells, doesn't it?

Curriculum B

Recently, I've gotten a lot of hits from 0Ls posting on various message boards.  They're trying to figure out whether to take Section 3 (Curriculum B).  There are a lot of typical Section 3 Myths which are floating about (you must be PI Law, or have an advanced Phil/Poli.Sci degree to do well in the Section, you don't learn black letter law, etc.)  I've tried to dispel those ideas here and there, but, eh, there are always fear-mongers in the world.

I have a lot of posts in the archives on my impressions of Section 3 (go to the right hand bar and look for the Section 3 topic), but would be willing to respond to specific questions posted here. 

It's a complex choice, but, I think, a good one to be faced with.  Either way, GULC is a fantastic school with incredible opportunities - critically engage and you'll love it.

To any 0Ls who are reading this, best of luck with deciding,

RJ

EIW

Haircut, new shoes, new suit (snazzy), good looking resume on 32lb cotton bond, anecdotes lined up and ready to go (most stressful job moment - having dogs set on me when I worked for the US Bureau of the Census).

However, looking at my transcript, printed on the same bond paper, I recall one of Steve Mueske's favorite phrases, "There's only so many ways you can polish a turd."

Regardless, this should be interesting.

Off the Cuff Advice

Well, enough of poems for a brief moment.  Purr Se was wondering if I had any last minute advice for incoming Section 3 students.  Hmm.

As to nuts and bolts, you should probably assume that if it can be lost, the school will lose it.  Keep extra copies of anything you might have to provide (transcripts are requested by the oddest people), and certainly make a file of key documents and information.  You should double check to make sure your financial aid is in order, update your resume, etc.  I’ve blogged about most of this before.  I figure that most of the little things, like wearing comfortable clothing to school, will be something everyone fill quickly figure out for themselves.   

As to the work. . .the important thing to realize is that everyone has their own way of learning – and that this learning, your self-education, will sometimes have little to do with the actual grades you receive (and yes, most everyone is thinking about grades out of the gate).  Heading into law school, it’s important to realize that almost everyone will have a weak area or two and a strong area or two.  (And then there’s Scott Scheule: boxer, pipe smoker, ladies man.)  Don’t get freaked out.  Be honest about any nervousness you have and simply work to address it as the semester goes along.  So you don’t know some of the words the professors use – not a big deal – you’ll learn them. 

With that said, I’m a bit hesitant to give studying advice.   However, this is what I did/did not do.  I didn’t hi-light, let alone in multiple colors (I underlined in red pencil and wrote in the margins.)  I treated my legal research and writing class with contempt and put in minimal effort (I can honestly say that I think almost everyone hated the class, but realized the subject was important and so taught themselves in spite of the class).  I “briefed” 5 or 6 cases all year (although I jotted a handful of notes on most of them).  I went to all my classes regularly (missing perhaps 5 classes on the year?) and took detailed notes in class.  I used old outlines in some classes and modified/fleshed them in when the professor was speaking.  I didn’t use study groups during the year, but I talked over old exams with my classmates at the end of the semester.  I ended up in the middle of my class. 

In terms of not waiting for the professors to teach you (a wise move), I would advise everyone to learn both Lexis and Westlaw and put in some time bombing around on them.  It’s not only the programs you ought to learn, but the way they organize legal resources.  You need to have a really clear picture in your head of where you might begin looking for information.  At first it will seem overwhelming, but with time it becomes more manageable in the sense that you know where you ought *not* to look on your first path through your research.

Part of that first year overwhelming feeling is that at the very beginning you’ll be trying to learn several things at once: you’ll be learning about the institution you’re in, it’s various written and unwritten rules; then there’s the way the law is organized and presented; then there are the “big issues” that the law touches up on.  It gets much easier as you go.  Keep telling yourself that.   

I’d also advise that you consciously try to get the section to gel, socially, early on.  Have open group outings to affordable and nearby venues at convenient times (many of us ended up at Cap City post deadlines, rather than the “Irish” vomit bucket up the road).  Don’t form cliques.  Encourage information sharing and respect for others views, no matter how opposed to your own.  Be patient with people the first few weeks.  They’re going to be all hopped up on nerves and looking for some kind of solid social footing, but they’re also all smart and quirky individuals with fascinating lives and diverse interests.  Do what you can to encourage that individuality.  It’s important to keep in mind that these people will be your peers – you’ll see largely them day in, day out, for the next year.  They’re going to graduate with you, perhaps work in the same cities as you will.  They are (potentially) 100+ attorneys, working in a dizzying array of fields, which you might have access to in the future.  That’s pretty cool, and the price for cementing those bonds is simply not being an asshole.  That said, in any group there are going to be a few tools.  Let ‘em go their own way. 

I’d argue that it’s much better to have a sense of community and camaraderie, than to start playing the zero sum game.  Don’t let the structure of law school socialize you into that game (it will try).  All the sudden people around you will start pretending the world is now somehow different, and that you’re playing a new game by new rules.  The debt might start to gnaw on you, and the lack of meaningful feedback from your professors certainly will.  You’ll look at the numbers, do the math and think – “if only I come out in the very tip top of my class, if only I cultivate the *right* friends, who will all study hard and exceed the rest of our classmates, then we all can be brilliant and successful together.”  I’ll leave it to you to figure out how likely that is.   The sad fact is that 70% of you will not be getting As, no matter what you got in the past.  (I’m most sad for the few who do take the bitter and defensive zero sum route and do get As – they’re probably not in for great lives.)

Two more pieces of advice (that float to mind):  the rumor mill is something awful, perhaps due to orientation and alcohol.  I tended to associate the more outrageous rumors with section other, but even within the section there were odd moments.  All the stuff you learned in undergrad/grad/whereever still applies – don’t tell stories, and just ask people if you’re curious about something or if you’re curious about them in general – the more direct asking, the better. 

The last is that you should not wait for things to happen.  If you’d like to do something, or see a service, or have an extra tutor, or see a change in the structure of the school, or reschedule classes, ask about it, then make it happen.  Generally there will be about 10-15 people in your section who will have a similar interest or concern.  It’s a “professional school” and you’re paying an assload of money – make sure you get what you pay for.

**

There are a number of 2Ls (and 3Ls) who are deeply interested in Section 3, and want to put together a kind of Section 3 alumni society, to become a shared resource for each other.  I’ll talk with a few people about putting together some kind of informal Section 3 legacy session, getting a bunch of different views on the first year experience, etc.  I’m sure there’ll be an interest among the 2Ls.  If you’re interested in such a thing, it might be best if you chat it up with your new section mates, try to agree on some kind of time that will work for the 1Ls, book a room, (not this upcoming week!) and we’ll see how many 2 and 3Ls we can drag into it.   Or just throw a dinner party.  I’ll be having a get-together in Sept. and shall pencil you in.

3-ing Out

Well, that’s a wrap.  Yesterday featured the last official class I’ll have in Section 3.  Whatever the exams bring, I have no regrets; it was a wonderful year full of stimulating professors and classmates.  I feel like quoting Bilbo at his party speech: "I don't know half of you half as well as I would like, and less than half of you half as well as you deserve."  I do wish the semester would continue on just a bit more – or perhaps I wish the summations of the courses, the panel presentations, and the cross-course examples came a bit earlier in the semester.  I tend to do better when I have a “big picture” statement which I can use to evaluate all the discrete cases/theories. 

For our very final class (Bargain, Exchange and Liability), Proto-Abe brought in a case of beer.  Our prof got one too but, alas, did not join us in drinking during class.  He dropped a minor bombshell (something he does for each final class) in that he extrapolated and applied a somewhat contentious legal theory (Duncan Kennedy’s piece on Paternalism) to race/gender relations.  I asked him about it afterward, specifically inquiring as to why he didn’t push his analysis further, and he said, “Well, I saw all the beer and figured you guys were just done for the year.”

In the evening a bunch of us snuck beers into the gym and watched the Section 3 volleyball team close out its undefeated season with two victories for the final volleyball crown.  We cheered them on with Sec. 3 call and response– such as “Set The: BaseLine” and “DunCan: KenNeDy.”  It’s really hard to work “indeterminacy” or “anti-paternalism” into a cheer.  But we tried.  We got some black looks from the “section other” black letter law volleyball opponents.  Or perhaps it was simply jealousy that they had no observers/cheerers.  Drunken law-volleyball cheers were simply not on my radar when I began classes here.

Over the summer, I’ll be working with 2 of the cheerers and one of the players in a nearby public defender’s office.  One of my fellow DC blawgers will also be in the office, which alone would be cause for celebration.  However, I think I need to overtly discuss the blawgability of the place with him before “outing” him/it here.  Regardless of that last detail, this should rock and I’ll be sending in my missives as I can. 

I wish I had the day to blawg on 3 and the close of classes, but today I must register for next year’s classes, clean up financial aid problems, deal with some kind of spam problem on my website’s server, and frantically update address/phone/email info for all the various offices that need such.  My desk is littered with paper – none of it outline stuff.  Not good – no time for a bike ride even.  Tomorrow I will make a grocery excuse to hit the pavement.

I’ll close with this clichéd observation – the first year of law school, section 3 or no, is what you make it.  Our professors have repeatedly told us that we’re pretty unusual in our solidarity; one cited our fundraiser (we did what we could – elaborate plans are sometimes just not possible here) for our fellow unfunded section-mate’s summer work, as remarkable and unusual.  But there’s no reason this kind of thing can’t happen in other sections or other schools.  I urge any prospective students reading the blawg to think about it - would you rather be in a cutthroat section with a few (perhaps) close friends, fighting against the whole class, mocking each other, creating a tiny study-group island, or would you rather be in a gregarious section that combines the talents of its members to make things happen?  If you prefer the second, build bridges often and early, encourage each class member's uniquiness, support their "non-law" selves and activites.  It's that simple.  The above is not to suggest that 3 didn’t have its political divisions, that the year went well for everyone (one of our mates is considering packing it in and not taking finals) or that everyone simply loves everybody else in the section, or that some people didn't isolate themselves.  There were the usual philosophic, political, and interpersonal tensions.  I think in the main though my classmates listened, tolerated each other’s differences, respected each other’s views, tried to change those views in a responsible way through dialogue, and genuinely, in the main, would like to see their classmates do well and be happy.  In short, my classmates are supportive adults and they act like it. 

Zero Sum Laude

I had wanted to post up something on the Zero Sum mentality in light of exams and law school in general – which I think is pretty silly, especially in a large law school with multiple curved sections.  I think that our section has been pretty good at resisting/undercutting this mentality thus far, and I’m happy to have played my small part in that.  The outline resource is a case in point – if a critical seed group decides to share information publicly, they raise the bar.  It’s now just not possible for an isolated person within the section (assuming there are such) to not have access to class notes/outlines, which levels out things like someone being sick and missing class, or dozing off and not taking good notes on any given day.  Given that one can only spend so much time studying and prepping for the exams, by providing resources which will probably raise the base level of knowledge a bit, I think we’re in some manner protesting against the artificiality of the curve.  The public posting of outlines discourages clique formation/information hoarding, which, unfortunately, can still be something of a problem.  Is it possible for a law school to design an educational/testing structure that encourages the sharing of information/ideas across the student body?   (Beyond the long-term argument that your classmates are your peers and your future contacts in the legal world, so you want them sharp and competent and sympathetic to whatever you might ask of them.  And that zero-summers just seem to be more stressed out/miserable than your average student - life in a "hostile" world does that I suppose.)

I understand why a grading curve makes sense for the law school as a financial institution (in the sense that, more or less, a law school is paid by firms to a) rate the meat, and b) impose a kind of slightly paranoid mindset that’s very receptive to structural authority/hierarchy.  But not even the law schools themselves pretend the current systems of grading (not evaluation) represent a “fair” way of measuring the student’s knowledge of their courses' content (both overt black letter law and rhetorical devices) against a neutral baseline.  And I'm not particularly interested in offering arguments to justify this or in helping the law schools make more money (There's a prof here who keeps telling us that they donate a large percentage of their law school income to charity.  I always thought this was tantamount to saying, "I only use the system to financially rape people to the point of my individual satiation.  I give all the surplus back.  Praise me.")

Anyway, personally, I’d like to see the curve dispensed with.  I think it encourages laziness in both professors and students.  (Actually there’s a lot of things I’d like to see changed about law school in general, but more on that later.)  I would hope that our professors, if faced with a brilliant class that “got” more of the material relative to other years or relative to an absolute scale would feel a deep and abiding sense of shame at handing out the exact same percentage of grades year after year.  Unfortunately, I think none of them, even the self-styled radicals, will do anything about it. 

There’s lots more to say about this but, alas, I’m whipped.  I'll probably add scattered bits as I go/if the mood strikes me.  Comments are open.  Thoughts?  Pros?  Cons?