law school suddenly becomes worthwhile

I wound up not going for the manicure this afternoon. It's best not to get one anyway right before you clean house.

"We hold for respondent," said the elder male judge, "based on oral advocacy."

[cue heart soaring]

But I'm getting ahead of my story.

Bill Logan and Patrick Carroll, darlings both, came to watch my oral argument, as did my husband (who had to dodge some traffic around the airport, but made it on time). We hung around in the hallway outside our courtroom with J., my opposing counsel who was scheduled to go twice this evening, all of us fidgeting and waiting for the 6:00 argument to end. T., the moot court program director, patrolled the hallway with an airline-style food cart loaded with bottled water, soda, and candy. "I'm just such a mom," she said. "I want to be sure you have everything you need."

The support was incredible. Even beyond T.'s mothering and a particularly sweet panel of judges, J. and Y., two of the class TA's, had watched a number of the arguments and gave us some excellently-timed coaching. "You need to really customize your argument," Y. told me.

"To the judges' questions?" I asked.

"No," she said, "to your opponent's arguments. A bunch of people who went yesterday didn't do this, so petitioner would get up and argue for fifteen minutes without raising the contact issue, and then respondent would get up and say that the main issue was contact. Just make sure you respond to the points he makes."

I would have. But I never quite got that far.

J. argued well, if his speech was a bit hesitant. I renumbered the points on my outline based on the issues he raised. But when I got up to speak, I never got past issue #1; the judges came at me with a terrific volley of questions. Which was good, since I'm far more comfortable answering questions than I am speaking off an outline. Perhaps they sensed this.

And then things went white-light and transcendental. I said things that I had not prepared, things that wowed the room. I actually used the term "nexus of harm," completely extemporaneously. I stuck to my argument and did not derail once. Not a single umm. One or two hand gestures, merely because my bloodstream seemed to be wholesale replaced with adrenaline. A few "I believe"s which should have been "It is Intel's position that"s. And only one potential instance of condescension to the judge, which fortunately no one seemed to notice.

"But really, that's it," said my husband in the car ride on the way home. "I was looking really closely, but you just nailed it. You were superb."

"I stopped taking notes," my instructor told me while the judges deliberated. "You were just superb."

"You were so into it," said Patrick over a giant blue margarita at the Chevy's on Van Ness. "When you got up, I could just see it by the look in your eyes." He then imitated the look in my eyes. I couldn't help but laugh.

"This," I announced for the benefit of anyone in earshot, "is the first time since coming to school that I have just simply enjoyed myself."

"Imagine," said my husband with a wink, "having fun in law school."

"You should try out for the Moot Court team," said my TA, who was serving as bailiff.

"You should try out for the Moot Court team," said my instructor.

"You should try out for the Moot Court team," said Bill.

"I think," I said, "I'll try out for the Moot Court team."

"It's just too bad the class is pass-fail," said my husband as we drove back down the 101. "You had an A."

"You know what?" I said. "This is such a good thing...so many good things at once, a topic I care about, an excellent instructor, the performing aspect, the lack of pressure...I'm glad it's pass fail. You can't quantify this. You can't fit this experience inside an A."

But hopefully, I can fit it into my schedule next semester.

thus spake /jca @ March 27, 2003 10:54 PM