Normally I use this blog to speak for myself, but part of the desolate feeling I'm describing comes from the unnecessary loneliness of these crushing blows to our self-confidence. I know better — I know I am not alone. I know this happens to all of us. With a simple Google search, I found this blog, from "Proto Attorney," a self-described 29-year-old 3L "at a mediocre law school." Her blog entry is titled, "Confidence." It reads, in part:
For the past two years of law school, I've really felt all along that I just don't know enough. I don't feel that in any of my classes, even the ones I got good grades in, that I fully grasped all of the concepts of that area of law. Some of them, I'm pretty sure I didn't grasp a single concept of the law.Proto Attorney, Confidence, June 1, 2008, at http://attyworkproduct.blogspot.com/2008/06/confidence.html.
This sounds about right. Despite the magnificent amount of information we learn each semester, most of us also encounter seemingly infinite setbacks. Many are small, and go by virtually unnoticed. A job application sent to a distant state, and no reply received: no big deal. A professor finds it necessary to correct the recitation of facts I give in class one day. Eh, I'll get over it. A motion argument, weakly argued before a fellow student. Better luck next time.
But other stumbling blocks aren't so easily reconcilable. A tryout for Moot Court, Trial Team or Law Journal, unsuccessful. Ouch. An interview with a dream employer, fumbled. Crushing. A grade of B- for a class in which an A or A- seemed attainable. Heart-wrenching.
Oh, these things don't matter, you say. No? Ask around. Ask a professor if grades matter. Ask a more seasoned law student if Moot Court or Journal experience counts when looking for a job. And ask yourself if what job you get matters.
Of course all these setbacks merely pose temporary obstacles. One can recover from each and every one. But the cumulative effect can and does create a sense of defeat in many of us, a sense that we really don't know what we're doing, and that we may never quite know. This is not comforting, and it produces some predictable reactions, to ease the cognitive dissonance of wanting to be successful — of wanting to be seen as being successful — and the reality of failing on a regular basis.
Some law students project false confidence. Most of us probably do it without thinking. We've always been good before, so we must be good now, even if our grades and experiences here don't bear it out.
Some law students — many law students — become depressed. "Studies have shown that law students suffer from clinical stress and depression at a rate that is three to four times higher than the national average." Herbert N. Ramy, Student Depression Becomes an Issue of Faculty Concern, available at http://www.abanet.org/lsd/studentlawyer/apr05/opinion.html.
Some law students, by necessity, lessen the blow of failure by shifting the blame. Didn't do well in Contracts? Must have been the professor. Some practice schadenfreude, to the detriment of humanity. Another way to cope is to discount the meaning of that activity at which we have failed: Didn't get appointed to Honor Council? Don't worry, they don't do anything valuable, anyway.
But even those of us who engage in necessary rationalizations strive to improve, at least where improvement is possible. If an interview doesn't go well, we prepare our best for the next one. If we don't make one team, we try harder in the next competition. If we don't do as well on a final as we'd hoped, we may talk to the professor to find out what went wrong, and how to fix it before the next one.
If we make it through law school with our confidence intact, it will be no small feat.
2 comments:
It gets better. It is just law school. It sucks your perspective of what is important and what isn't. I hate that it does this thing to otherwise bright, confident, wonderful people. It makes us boring and neurotic. But I think it gets better. The 3Ls, even those without grades, seem to be digging their way back out. I work a lot with the 1Ls and I wish I could help them hang on to their confidence in themselves a little longer, even as I am part of the system that tears them apart to make them better, stronger, tougher.
As I read Rob’s post, I feel almost guilty.
My law school life seems relatively charmed. I have not found the experience crushing, desolate, defeating or depressing. I have not encountered blows to my self-esteem or confidence based on classroom experiences, fellow students, professors or projects. If anything, my law school experience has been a consistent bright spot among some pretty dark and dismal places.
I think this is a matter of perspective. I am very purposeful in delineating my Marshall-Wythe experiences as my “law school life;” meaning, distinct from my “real life.” I do not think this is a form of denial. I believe it is an acknowledgment of reality.
I wrote a comment to one of Rob’s posts at the end of last year. Anyone reading it would likely agree that it was ensconced in self-defeat and disappointment—but I made it clear that those aches and pains were not even a remote extension of my perceptions regarding the first year of law school. My perspective, then, goes something like this: my “law school life” does not and should not impact my self-esteem or feelings of self-worth. If it does, then I am assigning far too much weight to an experience far too removed from reality to matter so very much.
Perhaps it is because I am one of the lucky ones. My grades, so far, place me in the upper tiers of our class. Barring criminal acts or acts of God, I have an amazing job lined up for the summer of 2009. I secured a spot on my top-choice Journal. I am involved in extracurricular activities on campus that I find extremely worthwhile.
But, even if I were not one of the lucky ones, would I be justified in damning myself in my real life for my so-called law school failures? I think not! I have been called on in class and not known the answer. I have devoted inordinate amounts of time to Legal Skills assignments, only to have them poorly received. While I received a job offer, I also received rejections. My perspective: so what?
None of my law school accomplishments or defeats reflects in any essential way my worth or character as a human being. What would it matter if I was ranked #1 in our class, if I failed to demonstrate kindness to my fellow classmates? Would it mean so much to be on Moot Court if I had sacrificed friendships to get there? What would be the great reward in getting all A’s, if I didn’t spend time with a significant other? If I was mean or ungrateful? If I didn’t laugh with my friends? If I made other people feel small? If I had no outside interests? If I didn’t take care of people close to me? If I neglected my parents? If I refused to stop and smell the roses, listen to music, or dance?
Perhaps the problem isn’t law school at all, but the perspective of those of us inside it. Perhaps some of us have come to this place with an over-inflated sense of our own importance or intelligence. Perhaps some of us have never been told “no” or “you’re not the right person for this job.” Perhaps we come here with an undeserved sense of entitlement. Perhaps we have always measured our worth as individuals by our academic accomplishments.
And perhaps it is now time we realize the inherent absurdity in our own assumptions. I do not think it is law school we must master, but our own egos. I do not think it is law school that crushes us; rather, it is our errant self-perceptions. If we believe that our performance in law school is the truest reflection of our character and worth as human beings, then we are indeed failures. Not because “law school” forced the failure upon us, but because we hoisted it upon ourselves.
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