Special Comment: I will say this twice

First of all, I'd like to apologize.  I haven't written a post in what, two months?  And no hiatus message?  Clearly, other things have been going on.  Rest assured, a review of The Big Short will be coming down the pipeline in the next week, so stay tuned.

Second, I'd like to apologize for writing this post.  I really don't want to do it.  It forces me to say a lot of things I'd rather not say.  I am sure I could say nothing and just let it die, and I'm afraid if I do this it will start things back up again.  I've never been one to attack strangers on the internet, and I don't want to do it.  But I have to defend myself.

For those of you that don't know, I have had my pathetic little fifteen minutes of crappy fame.  I don't even want to post a link here.  You can just google my name.  Luckily only one of the two posts shows up in the first results.  Unfortunately there were some pretty terrible pictures (or one, at least) that I just had to "report" on google.

I could launch into a full-on screed about cyber libel and how I should really turn this unfortunate event into a life lesson for all the scambloggers out there, but I don't want to invite any more speculation about what is or is not possible.  I kindly left a comment after the first story was posted and it was deleted.  I would rather not kindly ask anymore because if it goes down voluntarily, then it won't be as satisfying as, oh, returning the punch.

Because that is what we're told.  In Catholic school at least.  Do not get into fights.  If someone hits you, do not hit them back.  Turn the other cheek.

If I were making a six figure salary right now, I probably could do that.  However, while I really didn't want to make substantive comments about scamblogging, I think I have to.  Because I have to set things straight:

#1: I am not Mr. Infinity.

A lot of people think I am, for some reason.  I will tell you this: I really did not do myself any favors by writing a special comment about scamblogs.  I featured two of the blogs (maybe there was a third, but it had no fallout) in the comment.  One of them responded in truly vicious fashion, and the other one wrote, "Thank you very much for featuring my blog, 'Law School Fail' on your analysis.  Sincerely, Mr. Infinity." Now, I had already read the first post about me, so this did not come as a happy comment.  I wanted to be like, "WTF dude, didn't you see that everyone thought I was you? Why didn't you tell them we're two different people?" Instead, he just linked to Flying Houses on his blogroll.  I do not get very many hits from him.

But I'm not mad at him.  I could speculate that he's a made-up person, too, but I don't want to fuel speculation that I'm paranoid schizophrenic.

However, I am not him.  And the people that set out to destroy me (and if you think I'm being dramatic by saying that, you haven't read all the comments yet) probably won't believe that, but they should listen to reason and read the rest of my posts here.  Flying Houses is my only blog (apart from http://daylightsavingstime-jk.blogspot.com/, which was my way of putting my first novel online) and it has always been primarily about book reviews.

I rarely get into trouble with book reviews.  And in fact, the authors of some of the books I've reviewed have actually found them, and taken my criticism to heart.  So blogging is not a totally stupid thing to do.

However, writing a column called NIED was probably not the smartest thing to do.  I expected to get a lot of hate mail for what I wrote, and I did get a fair amount.  But some of this hate mail crossed the line.  Still, I am proud of (most of) my work for BLS Advocate.  Of course I wrote 24 pieces, and some of them became extremely esoteric (i.e. http://flyinghouses.blogspot.com/2012/09/negligent-infliction-of-emotional_16.html), but overall, I think I wrote relatively well.  Some people just didn't get the joke.

#2: I never said the scamblogs were wrong.

This is what infuriates me most: the only reason I became a target is because I made some very mild comments!  I called the blog in question "an especially vicious site that seems to revel in parade after parade of horribles."  I guess the really offensive thing is that I may have expressed what appeared to be sympathy for a person that has been skewered about ten times worse than I have, but who truly can "turn the other cheek" because fighting back is beneath her and she would rather have everyone wonder what she does than answer why she needs to get paid like half a million dollars a year, but whatever.  What would be really cool is if she would notice what was going on, and pay me to "take care of the situation"--but I am sure she would rather pay her personal attorney than one of her "victims."

#3: I never took the NY Bar Exam.

And I did pass the Illinois Bar Exam.  You can check iardc.org now if you need proof.
Actually, those commenters on story #2 alerted me to the fact that there was one more hoop to jump through after being sworn-in: registering.  I registered a couple weeks after the comments came in that I was a liar.

Why did I not take the NY Bar Exam?  I really don't think I need to explain myself, but people seem to want to know.  First of all, let me agree with the person that said I was a "fucking idiot" for going back to Illinois.  I know--it was a mistake.  It is very hard to start off in a "new" city, even if you were born here and did your post-2L summer internship here.  I certainly made more "contacts" in NYC, but most of those contacts were at the places I interned.

And I really did want to stay in NYC.  I interviewed with one of those places where I did an internship, and I made it to the final round--but alas, I was not hired.  At that point, I had registered for the NY Bar Exam.  However, I cancelled that registration, and received a $250 refund (so for all the hesitant bar takers out there--it is possible!  But you may need to show them a copy of your bank account balance).  And, yes, I paid $1,450 to register in Illinois.  It hurt, but so did paying like $1,800 to have my stuff (which wasn't even very much stuff!) shipped from Brooklyn to Chicago and stored for two months.  And it hurt paying $1,080 for first month rent + security deposit without knowing when I would (or if I ever would) have stable income again.

But, I knew it wasn't likely that I would get a job at any of the other places I interned.  They just weren't the types of places to be able to hire all (or most) of their past interns.  I guess most places that do internships (and not summer associate-ships) are like that--but I always did my best at internships, with an eye towards the future.  It almost worked out a couple times, but in the end it didn't, and while it was a painful decision, I just didn't want to face the horrible reality of taking the NY Bar while trying to find an apartment with a dwindling cash reserve and no proof of stable employment.  I would have had to move out of my place two days after I took it.

So for the person that said it was "well-known" that I stayed in New York until August, you are correct!  I flew back to Chicago, stayed here a few days, took the Bar, passed it (somehow--and I find it offensive that some of these commenters think I am a cocky POS when I have always been painfully honest about my grades and general level of intelligence), flew back to NYC, packed up my apartment, and then went to my sister's wedding in Massachusetts.  I stayed so I could go to that wedding, and because I was working two days a week at the library.

#4: I did not move to California (that happened six-and-a-half years ago)

Seriously, why would I take the NY Bar if I was moving to California?  The only time I contemplated moving to California after law school was when I interviewed for a bankruptcy clerkship in Oakland.  I would never voluntarily go to CA to take the Bar there.  That is the hardest bar exam in the country by a lot.  However, if I was dead-set on moving there, I would have taken it over the NY Bar because it really would be retarded to think I'd be competitive in the job market there without in-state licensure.

I did move to Calfornia in 2007.  But this is going to get into the fact that my life is "all sorts of epic fail," a comment that especially made me want to kill myself.  Oh, don't let me confuse the issues here!  This is not about cyberbullying; this is about cyber libel.  It's not like I have a great reputation, okay, but when they swore us in on Halloween, all they wanted to talk about was that constant refrain that it takes years to build your reputation and minutes to destroy it, so be careful.  And I have been pretty careful.  People may think I'm reckless, but honestly, I have always been paying attention to the things I write and post online and the way I carry myself in day-to-day reality.

I moved there, and--what happened there, I will not tell.  I'll let other people try to figure it out for themselves.  But I will admit that Flying Houses was born in West L.A.

I'll also admit that I've pretty much said what I wanted to say, and unfortunately, I just have to record everything else that everyone got wrong.

#5: I am not a vegan.

But I wish I could be.

#6: I never wrote an e-book called "Derailed at my Law School"

And I would never publish a 25-page e-book.  A 25-page book is probably not worth $0.99 (especially if it's electronic).

#7: I do allow comments on my site.

Even negative ones.  But I delete spam.

#8: I don't always defend BLS.

I was complimenting the comment about the entering class size at BLS being too big.  Some people just do not want to say a single nice thing about anybody.  :(

#9: I am not Odnan.

I really didn't want to have to get into this either, but I seriously would not be so lame as to make a "copycat blog" or to write another e-book called "How to Win at Law School." While those may be uncanny parallels (perhaps Mr. Infinity does moonlight as Odnan), when I write an e-book, it's going to be called "TTT" or "A Mark" - not something lame and generic.  I also wouldn't waste my time creating mirror blogs to make it seem like I have more fans than I really do.  I'm proud of the fact that I have 52,000 page views.  My audience is limited, but I care about creating quality content--not becoming a limited public figure.

#10: I am not going to address all of the comments after story #1.

It would take too long and get too tedious.

#11: I did not talk down to JD Painter.

And I would never make fun of someone who was deeply in debt and unable to get a decent job in the legal industry.  That is just mean.  And yes, I guess we are now in the same boat.

#12: I am not $300,000 in debt.

But I may be after 24 years of IBR at $30/month or whatever it ends up being if I attempt to live off tips.  Wait for my blog and new pseudonym: JD Waiter.

I have nothing more to say except that I have always intended for my writing to bring other people a brief moment of happiness, or to feel less alone.  I would never write about a person to try to destroy them unless they had done something pretty bad to me or someone I loved.  I don't think I've done that and don't feel I deserve to be treated this way.  People feel free to act like dicks on the internet because they can hide behind a pseudonym or declare themselves anonymous and nobody will ever call them out on that.  But I honestly hope that one day all of the hurtful and insensitive comments, made with reckless disregard for the truth, will be treated as unprotected speech, as they are words that, by their very utterance, tend to inflict harm.

My Beloved World - Sonia Sotomayor

It is appropriate that My Beloved World will be my final post on Flying Houses before I leave Brooklyn Law School.  I expected to put the blog on hiatus for most of law school, but I ended up remaining somewhat prolific and increased its popularity exponentially.  "My Beloved World" refers to Puerto Rico in this book, but my beloved world will be the library at Brooklyn Law School, which I will be sad to leave.  There have been many miserable things about law school, and while aesthetically our library cannot compete with say, Pepperdine's (which features a view of the Pacific Ocean that surely puts it at the very top), I have always felt that there has been such a wealth of knowledge and information here that learning about the "legal aspect" of any topic was within my grasp.  In my case it came in the form of the biographical accounts of Supreme Court Justices--truly the best models one could hope to have in trying to achieve excellence.

Of course, it is extraordinarily unlikely that I will ever be a federal judge, but at the very beginning of this book, Sotomayor assures all that it is okay to dream:

"A student recently posed another question that gave me pause: 'Given that there are only nine Supreme Court Justices, each with life tenure, can anyone realistically aspire to such a goal?  How do we hold on to dreams that, statistically, are almost impossible?'  As I tell in these pages, the dream I first followed was to become a judge, which itself seemed far-fetched until it actually happened.  The idea of my becoming a Supreme Court Justice--which, indeed, as a goal would inevitably elude the vast majority of aspirants--never occurred to me except as the remotest of fantasies.  But experience has taught me that you cannot value dreams according to their odds of coming true.  Their real value is in stirring within us the will to aspire.  That will, wherever it finally leads, does at least move you forward.  And after a time you may recognize that the proper measure of success is not how much you've closed the distance to some far-off goal but the quality of what you've done today."  (viii)

Most striking about My Beloved World is Sotomayor's natural flair as a storyteller.  It is written almost as if it were a novel, and even has a couple of moments of "magical realism" that would not be out of place in a Marquez novel.  However, Sotomayor ends the story when she is appointed as a federal judge in the Southern District of New York in 1992.  Of course many law students and legal scholars will want to hear about Citizens United or Sebelius or other landmark decisions that were heard sufficiently long before publication, but no such treats are offered.  And it is probably for good reason: Sotomayor (like almost all federal judges) is politically savvy.  Later on in the book she rebuffs a colleague's suggestion to join the Republican party in order to have a better chance of nomination, deciding instead to register without any party affiliation.  Of course people view her as one of the "liberal Justices" and for the most part she has lived up to that stereotype.  However, I was quite surprised to read about her feelings on the criminal justice system.  While I am sure that she considers all cases fairly and without bias, I would generally presume that a "liberal Justice" would show slight bias to the Defense, and not the Prosecution.  However, Sotomayor started her career at the New York County District Attorney's Office, and I was shocked to read some of her statements regarding criminal law:

"However caustic, Judge Rothwax was no cynic, though like many a cynic he had been disillusioned, having started his career as a Legal Aid attorney and civil rights advocate before becoming a prosecutor.  That early experience led him to conclude that given all the elaborate protections of the rights of the accused, any defendant whose case eventually came to trial was almost certainly guilty.  In a controversial book, the judge proposed abolishing the Miranda warning and other rules that he believed handicapped the police and prosecutors; he also argued that a 10-2 jury verdict was close enough to unanimous for conviction.  I wasn't prepared to accept his presumption of guilt, though it is borne out statistically: policemen don't normally make arrests on sheer caprice; most defendants do turn out to be guilty.  But a probability of guilt doesn't seem reason enough to revise our standards of due process.  These are designed to protect everyone from the human frailties of those whom we entrust to enforce the state's tremendous powers.  Even if the vast majority of the law's agents exercise these powers scrupulously, it is unconscionable that anyone should pay for a crime of which he was unjustly accused.  Blackstone's famous ratio ('better that ten guilty persons escape than that one innocent suffer') still speaks to a deep-seated sense of what is just." (208)

Thus, Sotomayor covers herself--at least in this regard.  She does offer up some incredible stories and is not afraid to write about sensitive topics.  I would say that this book should be required reading for anybody that would like to be a prosecutor (or a criminal defense attorney, for that matter), if only because she offers valuable tips for success.  It is extremely difficult to argue with Sotomayor: she is wise, and what the book beautifully captures is how she turned her "humble beginnings" into an asset rather than a liability.  But first, two tips for criminal trial attorneys.  The first is emotion:

"Granting myself permission to use my innate skills of the heart, accepting that emotion was perfectly valid in the art of persuasion, amounted to nothing less than a breakthrough.  Warren [Murray] would teach me much else in the way of trial skills, as had John Fried, Katie Law, and others at the DA's Office.  But that was the single most powerful lesson I would learn.  It changed my entire approach to jurors, from the voir dire to the structure of my summations, and the results spoke for themselves: I never lost a case again.  I had hung juries a couple of times, and once or twice a conviction on fewer than all counts of the indictment, but never an acquittal.
Leveraging emotional intelligence in the courtroom, as in life, depends on being attentive; the key is always to watch and listen.  You don't need to take notes with the court reporter getting down every word.  Lower your eyes to your pad, and you're bound to miss that hint of a doubt that flits across the witness's face.  Scribble instead of listening, and you won't notice the split second of hesitation in which a witness hedges a choice of words, avoiding the ones that would flow naturally in favor of the ones whose truth he or she is more certain of." (210)

The second is jury selection, debunking a myth that still seems to creep into the minds of attorneys today:

"Other lessons I would figure out for myself, often contrary to conventional wisdom.  Some prosecutors, for instance, would look for legitimate reasons to eliminate black and Hispanic juror candidates in the voir dire, the assumption being that minorities are biased in favor of defendants.  But to me that made sense only if you saw all people of color as potential perpetrators and believed, even more implausibly, that they all saw one another that way, too.  It was obvious to me that any black or Latino who held a job, or went to school, or stay home to care for an elderly parent was likely as law-abiding as anyone in my own family and, if anything, far likelier to be the victim of a crime than to commit one.  The notion that such a person would, on the basis of racial or ethnic solidarity, let anyone walk who might pose a danger to the community would have seemed laughable where I came from.  And so I packed my juries with the kinds of people I'd grown up among; the results, again, spoke for themselves."  (211-212)

While I do not believe this book will get any "bad reviews," it is not perfect (I found two typos: "Riven" instead of "Driven" near the beginning; "judge (last name)").  Some might decry sections of the book as being too "touchy-feely" and lacking in clues to Sotomayor's jurisprudence--but she anticipates this in the preface.  I would have liked to see a section on her decision that ended the Major League Baseball strike in 1994, but perhaps we will need to wait until she retires for her "judicial autobiography."  I must say that I read the book in a week, as "pleasure reading" while studying for the Bar, and was dismayed that she did not devote a single word to her experience of taking it (perhaps some memories are better forgotten).  But while I cannot say it is one of the best books I have reviewed on Flying Houses, it contains unmistakable wisdom, clarity and value.  And I found Chapter 24 to be the single best moment of the book.  Justice Sotomayor indulges in a fair bit of self-deprecation, which is welcome in a book where she has to explain how she achieved such magnificent heights.  She is also extremely funny at times.

In Chapter 24 she describes her life after her divorce from her high-school sweetheart, moving to Carroll Gardens and getting advice from friends on dating, with which she did not have much experience.  She writes about her prospects of giving birth to a child and her life as a diabetic.  She writes about adoption.  She writes about her circle of friends and how they have kept her from feeling alone.

She also writes about smoking:

"I had been a smoker since high school, burning through three and a half packs a day for much of my life.  I made my first serious attempt at quitting in my final year of law school: every time I felt the urge, I ran around the block, often with Kevin and Star chugging alongside in solidarity.  Going cold turkey during exams may sound like a needlessly brutal rigor, but in retrospect it seems less perversely self-punishing than lighting up again two years later when Kevin and I split.  There would be further attempts, using various methods, including hypnosis, but nothing worked for good until I saw little Kiley holding a pencil between two fingers, blowing imaginary smoke rings.  The guilt of endangering the health of a loved one is by far the best motivation I've discovered." (284)

She also writes about Puerto Rico's strange situation as an American territory, but not a State.  I do not know if Puerto Rico will ever become a State, but if it does, I think Sotomayor will be considered an important figure in bringing the issue back to the forefront.  However, her feelings on the matter are somewhat masked:

"Again and again, the conversation returned to the island's political status.  Did we want to remain a commonwealth, with some self-rule and a preferential trade relationship with the mainland?  Half the class believed that was no better than being a colony of the United States, living as second-class citizens.  But if we should aspire to statehood, the full rights of citizenship would come at the price of the full obligations, including a tax burden that, arguably, might have crippled our economy at the time.  Some proposed, with passionate conviction, that full independence was the only way to preserve our culture and the proper dignity of self-determination.  The economic repercussions of each position were as inscrutably complex as they were critical to the arguments.  And for those who are eager to discern my present views on the status question, I can only advise you not to give too much weight to whatever ideas vied for prominence in a young student's mind." (152)

All I can say is that this book really made me appreciate Sotomayor and the contributions she continues to make to our country.  If I ever get the chance to meet her, I will ask her for a hug.  I would imagine she gives amazing hugs.

Here is a clip that perhaps better encapsulates what is so great about her: her willingness to be a public figure and to serve as a role model par excellence:

Negligent Infliction of Emotional Distress #24: Farewell (Ode to the Napping Room)

Negligent Infliction of Emotional Distress #24: Farewell (Ode to the Napping Room)

By Christopher J. Knorps

“Is this thing on?
Can you hear me now?
Are we going?
Is this thing on?
Test, test, test, test, test, test...
Can you hear me now?

As we come to the close of our broadcast day
This is my farewell transmission
Signing off

Mr. and Mrs. America, and all the ships at sea
Anyone within the sound of my voice
I've got 50,000 watts of power
I want to ionize the air
This microphone turns sound into electricity
Can you hear me now?
Out on route 128, the dark and lonely
I got my radio on
Can you hear me now?
Can you hear me now?
Can you hear me now?
Can you hear me now?
It's the end of radio

And that snare drum
That drum roll
Means we've got a winner!
If you're the fifth caller
Or any caller at all... 

Welcome to my top ten
I'd like to thank our sponsor
But... we haven't got a sponsor!
Not if you were the last man on earth….
She was prepared to prove it…
This one goes up to a special girl
But... there is no special girl!

It's the end of radio
The last announcer plays the last record
The last watt leaves the transmitter 
Circles the globe in search of a listener
Can you hear me now?
Can you hear me now?
Can you hear me now?

Is this really broadcasting if there is no one there to receive?
It's the end of radio
As we come to the close of our broadcast day

I got my radio on
Can you hear me now?
Can you hear me now?
Can you hear me now?

This is the test 
If this had been a real emergency...
Hey, hey,

This is a real god damn emergency!”
-Shellac, “The End of Radio”

I.                     Introduction

When I started this column back in February of 2012, I took my cues from “Notions to Dismiss” by Michael Berman (for the name of the column) and “Legally in Love” by Lizzie B. (for the “sexiness” of the juicy gossip floating through our school—and yes, I think people still want to know who Lizzie B. was), but I had no idea I would complete 24 articles.  Before we go any further, I want to thank Steven Hasty for clueing me into the Advocate, Julie Adler for being the best editor I have ever  had, and Dwayne Thomas for allowing me to continue to express myself, as well as keeping me on guard when I would fall off the rails.

I wrote this column because law school is not great, but it has so much potential to be great.  I wrote this column because people seemed miserable here, and I sought to enumerate the reasons why.  There may be more than 24 reasons (and I fully admit that the topics of my columns have sometimes overlapped—See the multiple columns discussing the “50/50 Rule,” now the “60/40 Rule”) but I have done my best to give any prospective or current law student a road map of the pitfalls of legal education.

I would also like to note that I received significantly more “hate mail” when I was a 2L, but that now, as a 3L, with my columns becoming arguably more and more esoteric, few people ever comment on them.  This is either because (a) I am obsolete, or (b) the haters have realized the error of their ways. 

I may very well be obsolete.  I was not named our class commencement speaker, but I did not compete for that position.  This happened in high school too, you know.  I made an audition to be class speaker, and the class clown ended up getting it.  It was fine by me, and I just wrote my own “commencement speech” into an article in The Log at Loomis Chaffee.  I am not doing that here.  I am offering the ultimate NIED.  Welcome to my top 10.

II.                  Top Ten Classes

#10: Contracts (Prof. Winnie Taylor)

                While I did not do well in this course (B-), and while I sat in the way back row of the classroom (top left) and was doomed to failure by anxiety and the belief I still hold that Contracts is one of the hardest classes in law school and should actually be taken over both semesters for six credits (as Prof. Taylor also believed), the reading was always a pleasure (go figure!).  Perhaps it was in this course that I realized I wanted to take a curriculum in Business Law (which may have decimated my GPA, but which I believe was worth it—at this juncture at least), but most importantly, this was a 9:00 AM class which met three times a week.  There was a ton of reading and I didn’t put it into a good outline, but Prof. Taylor brought so much energy into the classroom everyday that I couldn’t help but pay attention.  I may not have done well in the course, but I will always remember her writing “POOR BLACK WIDOW” on the chalkboard, and the way she would say, “Oh boy!”

#9: Administrative Law (Prof. Araiza)

                I did reasonably well in this course (B+) and I sat in the middle on the right side with a couple friends that helped keep me on track—but they weren’t totally necessary: Araiza is an excellent professor.  This course sounds boring, and sometimes it is a little boring, to be honest, but its importance is adequately understood: the “headless” fourth branch of government probably has more impact on our everyday lives than any of the other “big three.”  There are also sometimes fascinating cases that branch off into many different areas of the law.  My favorite case was the Cinderella case, and I will never forget the feeling of knowing the material so well, but knowing that I would not be at the top of the class because there were so many other top students in it, and because Araiza was just that good of a teacher.

#8: Trusts & Estates (Prof. Serkin)

                I did reasonably well in this course as well (B+) and I sat in the second row (which became my de facto seat during 3L year).  Serkin lived up to the hype.  Unfortunately there appears to be a joke that can be made about the SBA Transition Dinner: whoever wins faculty of the year also wins “faculty most likely to leave BLS.”  While many may be sad that they will not have the opportunity to take a class with Professor Serkin, I cannot fault him for wanting to move to Tennessee, for it is a great state that still remarkably flies under the radar.  This was a fun course to take, and the casebook certainly made things interesting.  By far, from all the classes I took, this had the most bizarre casebook (the footnotes alone made me feel like the writers were constantly getting stoned and just telling the ridiculous stories behind the cases—or giving their opinions on James Lipton—because they realized how boring the material could be otherwise).  Serkin also recommended we watch The Art of the Steal, which is a great documentary and served as a nice “study break” (watch for the one scene near the beginning where an art appraiser walks through a gallery and is like, “Oh, Barnes would never get this, this is terrible,” and later says it is impossible to quantify how much the Barnes collection is worth—perhaps billions(!)) as we studied charitable trusts near the end of the semester.  I didn’t learn the intestacy regimes as well as I should have, but I felt the final was one of the “fairest” I have ever taken, and I feel that Serkin taught this course almost masterfully.

#7: Employment Law (Prof. Minda)/Debtors’ & Creditors’ Rights (Hon. Martin Glenn) (tie)

                Most of my classmates from these courses must think I am crazy for putting them in the top ten, but Employment Law gave me the highest grade I received in a 3 credit course (A—and though the results are not yet in from this year, I’m not optimistic) and Elizabeth Warren wrote the casebook for Debtor/Creditor and it was the best one I studied in law school.  Employment Law was a fascinating area to study and I am glad I read From Widgets to Digits and also glad I wrote a paper in lieu of a final exam (the only time I got to do that).  Debtor/Creditor was a tough class, and made tougher by a Judge-Professor taking on the MF Global case around Halloween, and though I may not have done well on the final, nobody did, and I got a B+.  So I think it was the only time a really hard final worked in my favor.

#6: Constitutional Law III: First Amendment (Prof. Araiza)

                Araiza gets two mentions, but this course ranks higher because it has some of the most fascinating jurisprudence of the Supreme Court.  It was in this course that I finally realized Justice Douglas was my favorite of them all, and that I should try to live up to the standards that he set for himself.  Araiza never talks about his clerkship on the Court, but it hung out there in the back of my mind, and I wanted badly to ask him about all the things that happened while he was there, but I understand if that must be kept confidential.  Regardless, hearing his eminently reasonable and incisive interpretations of the Court’s opinions was a true highlight, and I bemoan the fact that I will never be able to take a course with him again.  Not only was he a good professor—he was a good person, and made himself more available to students than any other professor I had.  I will never forget him saying, “Pardon my language, but I’m just quoting: ‘We’ll take the fucking street later!’” or the last time a group of us sat in his office and discussed how obscene internet videos had to get before the Court would say they fell outside the protection of the First Amendment. 

#5: Evidence (Prof. Pitler)

                This is another one that a lot of my classmates might disagree with, but Pitler did not try to pull any tricks.  He told us that if we just did the problems, we would do well.  And I did.  While I only got a B+ on the exam, he told me he boosted me to an A- because I came into every class prepared to offer up my answers to the problems he had assigned.  I appreciated that there was very little reading.  Also, Pitler delivered a stirring lecture in our final class on the Crawford case and the Confrontation Clause that was one of the most entertaining and informative talks I have ever attended.  The school should have video recorded that class, because it was a definite highlight for me.

#4: Criminal Procedure (Prof. Baer)

                Professor Baer warned me that if I took Crim Pro with her, she would “kick my butt.”  She “kicked my butt” in Corporations (giving me a B, while admitting I earned a B- on the exam, but participated well in class and therefore got boosted) even though I appear (very briefly, and in a friend’s beret!) on the school’s website in a video from that course.  It was not a bad course, but I bemoaned her use of Powerpoint.  She did not use Powerpoint in Crim Pro, and this was easily one of the most fascinating courses in law school.  The reading was usually quite interesting (some people call it Con Law IV because it is all Supreme Court opinions) and Prof. Baer always assigned a reasonable amount of reading for each class.  I never felt overwhelmed and felt that she used her time in class very effectively.  And I do not think she will kick my butt, because I took the course pass/fail (and update: I passed).

#3: Interviewing & Counseling (Prof. Schultze)

                Everybody should take a class with Prof. Schultze.  He is a popular professor, and for good reason: there really is not much work to do.  This is a 2 credit class.  But it can be a little bit stressful when you are on the chopping block!  Prof. Schultze could have his own reality show based on his classes.  While the class was easy, it was also fun and useful—learning how to appropriately approach clients is a fine art, and it is one skill that I will leave law school believing I have learned well.

#2: Business Reorganizations (Prof. Gerber)

                Also known as “Debtor/Creditor Part 2,” this was a fun 3 credit class to take, and Prof. Gerber is one of the best at BLS.  I will never forget his drawings of pies to represent chapter 7 and buche-de-noels (or twinkies) to represent chapter 11 (and I am sort of sad I missed taking the class after Hostess declared bankruptcy) and his drawings of pigs to represent banks, nor his mentioning that his brother wrote the comic book Howard the Duck or that he went to high school with Sheldon Toibb.  While the course can sometimes be challenging, Prof. Gerber always made it comprehensible through his classes, which blended lecturing and calling on volunteers.  He did not try to “trick us” on the final, and I was very pleased to get an A- in that course—it is one of the grades that I am most proud of in law school.  It was also through this course that I found my “dream area of practice” and at least got a shot at a couple bankruptcy judge clerkships.  I didn’t get them, but Prof. Gerber made time to help me try.  Also, it is perhaps worth noting that I sat in on his Contracts class in the Spring of 2010, and that it was the best class I attended at any of the law schools I visited, and that his style and presence as an “interim Dean” made me feel reasonably secure (not totally secure!) that I had made the right decision by attending BLS. 

#1: Securities Regulation (Prof. Fanto)

                I just mentioned Fanto to another student a couple hours ago and she said, “Oh, Fanto’s a god.”  That about sums it up.  Securities Regulation may be one of the most difficult classes in law school (I personally found Corporate Finance more difficult because of all the math, and Federal Income Taxation more difficult because of all the material), but it was always a pleasure to attend the lectures, even when Fanto admitted that he hated teaching the material (on Regulation S).   Simply put, I was very lucky to take a class with him.  I will never forget him shouting, “you have to be quiet!” during the first few classes or hearing his opinions on Congress (“they don’t have any idea what’s going on anyways…”) and our unfortunate position of needing to implement the JOBS Act into our understanding of the securities laws.  Also now whenever I go on a road trip, I will try to pick out abandoned bowling alleys, because he says it is usually easy to do—and that underscores my opinions on this course: it’s incredibly important stuff, but it’s contained in these incredibly dense and archaic statutes.  Fanto was great at making us understand just how important it was, and while I do not know my grade yet (perhaps I did terribly), I will always remember those classes very fondly. 

III.                 NIED #23 ½ : Restriction on the Right to Practice

90% of us will be staying in New York City post-graduation.  That is the figure that gets tossed around as a student begins their law school journey.  90% of law school students stay in the same jurisdiction (or is it state?) as their school.  A problem arises when a student’s attitude towards their “law school home” sours over the course of three years. 

Sometimes it is not too big of a deal.  You don’t like New York?  Well go to Connecticut, or New Jersey, or Massachusetts.  Take 2 Bars.  You can do it; it’s fine.  BLS “strongly recommends” taking the Bar Exam in two states (i.e. New York and New Jersey), and updates information for these two states but leaves the rest up to the student. 

I don’t know the deadline in California, I’ll admit.  But I do know the deadline in Illinois is February 15, and the total fee (if filing is timely) is $850.  It then jumps to $1,050 for “late” registration if done by March 31, and $1,450 for “really late” registration if done by May 31.  I never looked into this matter until a fellow Chicagoan told me it wasn’t possible to do Illinois and New York at the same time.

It would have been fine, for me, a student without a job who is torn between two states, if that other state was New Jersey, but it’s not.  Perhaps it’s the difficulty of traveling between two states on a Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday (or can you take the Bar in a different state in your home state?  I don’t think so…), but you cannot take the New York and Illinois Bar exams because they are both two day exams on Tuesday and Wednesday (i.e. the MBE on Tuesday and the “state test” on Wednesday).  

The deadline for New York (we all knew) was April 30, so it is still possible for me to file “really late” in Illinois, and forfeit the NY Registration fee of $250, but I’ll have spent $1,700 in the process and will probably incur about $1,300 in moving expenses, and then who even knows about residency in Illinois.  Furthermore, switching at this late stage of the game is exactly the type of distraction that seems tailor-made for Bar Failure. 

This is the last NIED column because it goes to the last complaint about law school: when you don’t have a job, and aren’t sure where things will be better for the long term, nobody can give you satisfactory advice.  You just need to stick to your guns, pick one, and pray.  The state of indecisiveness is a horrible one that can make even the most talented minds wither under pressure.  It’s not like we’re Lebron James and we can orchestrate a television special to state which city will be so lucky as to have our legal talents.  We’re the opposite.  There’s too many of us, we’ve been told, so which city is unlucky enough to have to support one more mediocre (if grades are any indication) lawyer?  After all if we were destined to be a great lawyer, we would have a job by now, right? 

I throw my hands up and say once and for all that this is one area in which I cannot offer persuasive advice.  The best advice I’ve been given is to take the New York Bar, stay here until December or so, see if I have a job by then, and if not, return to Illinois and take the Bar there in February, because the MBE score will transfer.  This is easier said than done, though, as my remaining funds will likely dwindle down to almost nothing by that point.  And who really wants to take the Bar Exam twice? 

It’s all cold comfort this time, I suppose.  You should just pick your law school in the region where you’re sure you want to live.  If you didn’t do that, then you must be sure you want to return home, and you will already have your plan in place.  Unfortunately there is no back-up option—except if one happens to be from Washington D.C. (or Alaska, I’ve been told), where you can “waive in” immediately. 

In order to promote fairness, law students should be able to “waive in” to every state.  There are questions on the MPRE (which—surprise, surprise—applies nationwide) which state that non-compete clauses in partnership agreements are unenforceable because they constitute a restriction on the right to practice.  The Bar Exam is the ultimate restriction on the right to practice, because it forces a person to say, “This is my home, and I wouldn’t rather be anywhere else.” 

I loved going to school in New York from 2001-2005 (the “honeymoon period” after 9/11 truly made me believe that New York was the greatest city in America, and that there was nowhere else I’d rather be) so it seemed to make sense for me to pick New York over Los Angeles (and Chicago) for law school between 2010 and 2013.  Now I just see it as an overcrowded bundle of nerves, anxiety, car-lessness, high rent and claustrophobia (or maybe I only feel this way because I lived in Brooklyn Heights for 3 years) and I wish I had more “contacts” in other cities so that I could confidently believe that it would not be a bad career move to leave this place.   

The ABA should definitely consider broadening the right to “waive in” because while 90% of us may be staying, it may not be the most “voluntary” decision we make after starting.  Many of us are simply not the same people we were three years ago. 

There is a quote in the library (a gift from the class of 2010) from a movie that is not about law school, but is thought to apply to law school.  I have one other such quote: “I believe whatever doesn’t kill you, simply makes you…stranger.” 

IV.                 Top 5 Hardest Exams

#5: Property (Prof. Macey – Spring 2011)

While I earned a B+ in this course, and do not feel I did all that well on the exam, I was pleasantly surprised by this grade.  Property, it has been said, is the most useless first year course in law school.  That may be so, but sometimes it can touch on interesting and/or “useful” areas of the law (I remember hating the Mark Rothko case in Property, but then embracing it during Trusts & Estates).  In any case, many students complained about how hard this exam was, and I had no real reason to complain, but it was a very difficult exam to finish properly in the time allotted (there were “too many issues”).

#4: Accounting for Lawyers (Prof. Hauptman – Fall 2012)

While this exam was not necessarily difficult, the course itself was certainly the hardest 2 credit course I took in law school.  Our professor told us there would be no “tricks” on the exam, but this is a tricky course, and because I did not put in the requisite amount of effort throughout the semester, I suffered on the final.  My advice is not to underestimate this course if you plan to take it.  It is not “easy,” as a student a year ahead of me claimed. 

#3: Civil Procedure (Prof. Schneider – Fall 2010)

While this was the most “pleasant” grade I received in my first semester of law school, question #4 was the hardest question I have ever had to answer on an exam.  It made me want to cry.  I wrote two short paragraphs as an answer to #4 (which had a lengthy and confusing fact pattern about two and half legal-sized pages long) and apparently did as well or better on that question than any of my other percentages.  I guess it was one of the few times that everyone else was just as flummoxed as me.

#2: Corporate Finance (Prof. Myers – Fall 2012)

While I did not do all that poorly on the essays on this exam, I badly fouled up the multiple choice section.  This was one of the most difficult classes in all of law school because (like accounting), I did not put in the right amount of effort in during the semester.  It was a strange exam.  It was completely “open.”  We could use any and every resource at our disposal.  A lot of the other students probably hit “Control + F” and cycled through their outlines and cut-and –pasted their answers.  I didn’t have the presence of mind to do that, nor did I have the presence of mind to know all of the Microsoft Excel functions like the back of my hand.  A tough course and exam primarily because of the math involved.

#1: Debtors’ and Creditors’ Rights (Hon. Martin Glenn – Fall 2011)

I will never tire of talking about this course, nor the impossibility of this exam.  This exam caused both vomiting and tears (not from me, but other students taking it).  I was pleased with my grade on it (as noted above) but found the experience of taking it to be excruciating.  It was like a really scary roller coaster ride but gave off no great feeling of relief and accomplishment at its end. 

V.                  Areas for Reform and Conclusion

Brooklyn Law School is not a terrible place, but there are certainly some changes that would go a long way towards making it better.  I offer my own idiosyncratic suggestions here:

First, BLS should offer its students $50.00 per year on their printing account.  $25.00 (or $12.50 per semester) is insufficient for a typical student’s printing needs.  Further, there should be an option for students that never use the printing stations in the library to have a zero balance.  The former President of the SBA rebuffed this recommendation saying, “You need to raise tuition to do that.”  Well, our tuition was raised roughly $3,000 over the course of our three years and our printing account amount never went up, so to that I say, “No.”

Second, BLS should offer one color printer in the library.  It is sad when a student asks me if we have color printing and I sheepishly send them to 1 Boerum Place, even though I am not 100% sure there is a color printer there that they can use.  Just one color printer would be a nice addition to the library. 

Third, BLS should have a more robust academic advisement program.  We are given an academic advisor in our first year (one of our professors, I presume) but that professor may not necessarily want to engage the students in talking about their long-term goals and how best to achieve them.  While I am generally satisfied with my course selection, there were two or three classes that I wish I hadn’t taken.  The school does offer a panel every year on how to choose your upper-class curriculum, but more student-specific counseling should be mandated in the way that career-counseling is only “suggested.”

Fourth and finally (and this list is by no means exhaustive, just specific things I would have liked), the school should offer the option of a retroactive pass/fail.  This could be used by students to “nix” a grade that destroyed their GPA if the course had a pass/fail option that was not elected by the student during the course of the semester.  While this may have caused internal problems earlier, with the bright-line 80% standard the school has set for scholarships, just as remedial statutes should be interpreted broadly, such a standard would improve student morale and remove the problem of students “shooting for a D” on exams they know will be graded pass/fail.  If there were concerns about abuse, it could be changed to only allow for retroactivity in the third year (and not be available for the incoming 2-year-program).

In conclusion, it has been a long and often boring ride, but I hope that I have played a small part in helping to make this school a better place for students.  Some of the best moments I have enjoyed were in the “napping room” (104M in the library), and it is my hope that one day I can return to the school and officially have that room designated as such in my honor.  Students need a place in the library where they can relax for a few moments in an anxiety-free zone, and sleep if they must.  Everyone that knows the “napping room” is for this purpose will agree that it is one of the best “student-made” changes in the school.  And it is my hope that other students’ suggestions will bring about positive changes in the future in different areas of the school.