The Bar Exam Gets One Last Hit

It was a happy mail day, indeed! I passed the Massachusetts Bar Exam! However, my mail comes late in the day and so most of Saturday, as I waited for my mail, was brutal. One last test to my sanity.

I had been growing more and more frustrated and anxious as the days and hours passed by. To distract myself from having a The Riddler-like breakdown, I set about trying to accomplish manual tasks. First, my shoes. That took three days and mostly because I spent the work day gnawing at myself and trying to escape my own thoughts and by the time I got home I was well and truly done being awake. For Saturday, D-Day, I would need a tedious task that I would absolutely have to finish within the same day or else, which basically means finish or perish. Aha, my kitchen! I’m talking moving everything but the fridge and oven (because I’m neither Hagrid nor Hodor), washing cabinets, double mopping and everything in between. But I wasn’t prepared for the double onslaught Saturday would bring – I was physically ill and borderline overwrought all day. As I set about to begin my kitchen task, I was frequently distracted by an errant thought about the bar and had to chant “I passed, I passed, I passed…” over and over to replace the potentially negative thought, or worse, the “what if?” thought.

By noon I had enough. I forced myself out of the house so I would stop jumping every time I thought I heard the sound of mail dropping into my mailbox. On my sojourn to Five Guys and the pharmacy, I honestly thought I was going to black out many, many times. I have never taken so many deep breaths in my life! The music in my earbuds could not be loud enough and the normal pleasure of people watching seemed more like an out of body experience where I was in the world, but not of the world. When I got home, my letter had arrived.

I debated… “to open or no to open?” I actually thought about not opening it at all. I wondered who I could call to come and open it for me and why I hadn’t thought of that idea sooner. My heartbeat was so loud in my ribcage and up through my ears and I could feel the thump-thump, thump-thump in the tip of my nose. Everything was loud and quiet at the same time. In a moment of remarkable courage for all the shit flying through my mind in that moment, I opened the envelope.

I passed. “Congratulations.” Read the first sentence. And I read it again, and again ten more times. I had to be sure. I had to be certain there was no mistake. The letter goes on to read “you have passed the written examination for the Massachusetts Bar Exam” and I’m thinking… “so…I only passed the essays?” So I read it again for good measure, and it’s true, I passed. I finally passed!!

I alerted the necessary people in my life of my achievement and cried for at least two hours out of sheer relief. Relieved that I don’t have to try and find the strength to do this again, because I truly think that reservoir is drained dry. Relieved that I can have my life back (whatever that means) now that I am out of this holding pattern and relieved that I can move forward in my career. I am a realist and so I know that finding a lawyer job is likely going to be the subject of my ranting, and being a lawyer is hard work, and that some areas of law are truly depleting to the soul in practice; but that really doesn’t matter because the biggest hurdle is dust I am now a soon to be sworn in attorney and I get to make the most of it.

Lastly, I am very happy to share this happy time with several friends and classmates who have also struggled with the bar exam and smashed it this time!

~NV~

Finishing: The Highs and Lows

Just before the clock turned to 6pm, I had a slap happy moment. My friend and I turned into “bros.” A rather attention grabbing moment, unlike me. Complete with a loud-ass high-five and table slap, much to the chagrin of a forgettable 2LE. We were utterly giddy that once this exam was over, once we had that pink exam receipt in our hands, we would be done.

I wish I could tell you that a montage ran through my mind, even a blurry one, but that’s not the case. I went blank. When did this start? Why did it start? What the hell have I been up to all this time? Definitely not aware of the world since I missed things like a Papal change (also, not interested in people expecting me to pay attention now). And what now?

I took my exam. At moments I had to consciously tell myself to “take a deep breath” and “slow the fuck down.” It was my copyright exam and therefore important to me that I do well (despite my “C’s get JDs mantra” of the semester) and I needed to not be sitting there trying to remember what a sec. 115 compulsory license covers because there is a margarita on a rooftop waiting for me. And goddamn it I don’t deserve a margarita on a Monday!

I finish, I feel confident I at least did not fail. If nothing else, I’m almost certain my mantra will come through. I leave the room, what’s this you say? Suddenly the hall is blurry because my tear ducts have discovered autonomy in their old age? Yes. Not because I’m suddenly afraid I answered something incorrectly. No, not because I’m so tired and stressed that it’s all coming out because there.is.nothing.left. It’s because I identify with my captor. I am sad this chapter of my life is over. It is the best sense of bittersweet I have ever tasted.

So I drink and I’m merry. I can return all the overdue library books for my paper on licensing & the erosion of the first sale doctrine as it relates to publishing. I can read anything I want for the next three weeks…because I can. My dog is home again because I’m not spending 12+ hours studying (cough::cramming::cough) at school. Quite honestly, my biggest concern at this exact moment is what am I going to wear to graduation. I definitely feel lighter (despite the waiting for 2 weeks to be certified to graduate bit. Minor detail.)

I thought I would feel more elated. More over the moon. Does that come later? Have I conditioned myself to not feel those things? I don’t know. It has been a day of highs and lows, and I’m somewhere in the middle. I’m content.

Bittersweet: Due Process is Done

Due Process was a big part of my law school career – first as a contributor and then as part of the editorial staff. When articles such as “They All Lied During Voir Dire”  & “‘Twas the Week Before Exams” graced the pages, I was thrilled to see my byline, but I wanted to be more involved. As Assistant-Editor-in-Chief, I rarely had time to write anything other than captions and credits, and most people have no idea how much goes into creating Due Process. Being able to take pride in a completed paper is a feeling I wouldn’t trade for a byline. Normally it takes about 48 hours to whip an issue into shape, but the EIC and I are slightly neurotic and the final issue of the year took a week to complete.

done!

The final issue for 2013-2014, my final issue, includes:

• Graduating Class Superlative Winners
• Public Service is a Tradition Not to be Taken Lightly
• Judges of Color: Triumphs, Barriers, and Obstacles Still to be Overcome
• Learning from Anita
• Healthy Body, Healthy Mind
• BLSA 2013-2014: Transforming What It Means to Be a Law School Student
• Favorite Professors of the 2014 Graduating Class
• Favorite Classes of the 2014 Graduates
• Interview with Judge Sikora
• Northwestern Football Players Can Unionize
• What Did You Want to be When You Grew Up?
• Coulthard Says…
• Voice of NEL|B

 

Enjoy!

 

Happy Relay Day!

It’s finally here! Relay day! 

There is still time to donate and/or stop by the arena and join the fun! Beware all who enter, and watch your back. For Villains and Superheroes will be walking the track!

Relay for Life, Northeastern

A Law Student Christmas

I have three more in limbo somewhere. Any day now Mr. Package Delivery Man should drop them off.

Merry Christmas!

Day One, Take Two

Swapping out Thursday Top Ten for a recount of my first day as a 2L.

I found it interesting that I was both more anxious and nervous (In case you don’t know, they are different) to start my second year than I was for my first. That is not to say that I wasn’t excited, because I was…I am. I am STOKED to be back in school. Be certain I’ll still bitch about it, but I do love being in school. I love sitting in classrooms and having books, things to highlight and read. I hate studying, but I do like to learn new things. School feels like a more even playing field than the real world.

I digress, as usual. 

Despite being anxious and nervous, I was ready to embrace the new start. I woke up at the time I set my alarm for (never happens), I got dressed (in hindsight, I should have taken a photo of my first day at school like I was in kindergarden again), I headed out and I had a TON of time to spare before my first class. So I went to Starbucks, found my locker and then (after running into Reb in the hall), proceeded to the basement of the library – that’s my spot. 

My mood was a million times elevated. I could feel it in my bones, I hope I can hang onto it. 

Let me tell you about a few things that happened on my first day.

• “The Silence” in the library was unnerving! I think it’s a result of having been surrounded by such a cacophony of sounds for the last 3 months. The angry sounding Maltese language, roosters, fireworks, airport noise, public transportation noise. The noise my family makes just by existing, let alone talking or cooking or watching TV. Zoe, well, Zoe doesn’t make that much noise but I talk to her incessantly and that’s noise. So when I came into the library, it was just too quiet. It took me about 30 minutes to deal with that, which is funny because I usually prefer the quiet of the lib than the area noise of most places. The general rule is no sound or a steady stream of sounds at a decibel I deem reasonable.

• A Starbucks Barista remembered I was going to Malta this summer and asked me about it. I was the Mayor once. 

• Starting 2nd year made me feel like I have jet lag all over again. 

                Sidebar: how Harry Potter’ish is it that I’m a “2nd year”? Awesome, am I right? Of   course I am!

• I think I get along with my section mates from last year more now that we are not forced to look at each other every day. I talked to more people than I usually would from the “old days,” and there are a lot more friendly “hellos” in the halls.

• I tripped in the middle of the big street my school is on. Nothing new there.

• This is an actual conversation with my professor from my first class of the year…

                    Prof: “Nahtasia…Nai-tah…Nee…”

                   Me: “Naitasia”
                  Prof: “I still can’t get it. I swear, I tried to pronounce it 5 times [before class].”

It was a good day

Saying Goodbye

This is probably around the time at the end of a trip when someone would say, “it seems like only yesterday I arrived in Malta.” To me it feels like a lifetime ago. I barely remember when I got here, and perhaps that is from the draining travel, but the only time I recall those early days is when I look at photos. Yet, despite all the bullshit I endured this summer from roommate drama, to having my ass kicked by the sun daily, to racism, there are good things.

One of those good things is the people I have met and connected with here in Malta. Some are foreigners on holiday, others are expats from their respective nations, and even some are native to the island. I am proud of myself for venturing out instead of hiding from the world in our rented flat. Even if I wasn’t now afraid to be out on this rock alone, I’m shy and not prone to just approaching people. I have to make a concerted effort, and it’s usually because I hate awkward silences.

These friends, they know who they are, enriched this experience. I’ve learned a lot from them about life, about Malta, about the world. I’ve experienced new things with them, I’ve been able to explore with them. I have new perspectives.

I find that I am reluctant to say goodbye. Not surprising to say the least. I remember in the 8th grade when my best friend was moving away and the spectacle I made in the hallway as I bawled my eyes out and held onto him – while we wore matching Nike t-shirts. My goodbyes this time are not quite so dramatic on the outside, but on the inside I am bawling. I have friends all over the world, so one would think I am used to saying goodbye. I’m not, and saying goodbye when I don’t know when or if I will see them again makes it worse. It’s not a “see you later,” it’s truly “goodbye,” and that makes me so terribly sad.

World Refugee Day – An Eye Opening Experience

World Refugee Day was last Wednesday, and here in Malta there was a Refugee Day Festival Saturday.

Until recently, “refugee” was a word I associated with any foreign national entering another country, in particular entering the U.S. Although our country is built on the backs of people from other countries, I still had a foul taste in my mouth for the concept as a whole. That taste is not due to their difference in race or origin, but due to the problems it can cause. Problems such as driving the wage down because people will take advantage of the fact that they will do cheap labor; instances where whatever space in the world they choose occupy can get turned into a less than favorable place to live; and they never really integrate. They stay in their own little community, the end. Of course, I know this is not ALL the time, but these are concerns I have. 

we pose with the henna tattooist. forgive my tan.

Since studying in Malta, I have come to understand it in a different way. I now think of a refugee as someone who is seeking a better place due to some burden on life. Persecution, abuse, segregation, denial of basic rights are good examples; things that Americans can often take for granted. To be clear, I am not knocking Americans, we are a blessed country despite our faults. I don’t blame people for not knowing anything different, just for not trying to learn anything other than what they know. Anyway, I have a different appreciation for refugees as I have come to understand them. And I feel bad for those who leave their home country only to be put into a comparable or worse scenario. Let’s face it, people granted asylum in America aren’t given a package to the “American dream,” they’re stuck in halfway houses or homeless shelters and the cultural bias deeply rooted in American minds hinders them from advancing without extreme perseverance or good fortune. 

The point is, I no longer see all refugees as “mooches” on a country’s resources. Although I have not had to be in their position, I find it easier to now understand why they want to leave their home and find something better. I can’t imagine being practically forced out of Boston for a reason I cannot change – my gender or my skin color – or for something inherent to my identity – political opinion, sexual orientation, etc. Having to be forced to run from what I know and love, despite annoyances like bad roads (haha) to assimilate into something new. If I had to be forced to live in the south, I might have to take drastic measures, just saying. It’s a much smaller scale of an issue, but it’s how I have to process their situation, by trying to put myself in their shoes.

my henna tattoo

I met some nice and interesting (and I really mean interesting as it is meant to mean and not as a filler word) people at the refugee festival. There was a Somali women who does Henna and she was very sweet. Her English was very good and there really wasn’t anything different about her from the rest of us. Well, she was pregnant so I guess that’s a difference; but we could all technically get pregnant, so maybe not so much of a difference? Her smile was absolutely brilliant! I met a man from Kenya who is studying business management in Malta, but also works with an NGO (I forget the name now) to help educate people on the integration of refugees into Maltese society. This speaks to what I was saying about the sects in a community that refugees fall into; but it’s something else entirely when the nationals of the country you have entered shun you as if you are a disease. It’s not so funny, but the world is not very different in that respect. 

I’m very excited that I have gained a new perspective since being here. I didn’t even realize I gained it until the festival yesterday. If nothing else happens on this trip, I will take that away with me.

Let’s Wrap It Up

An ordinary Wednesday turned into a harrowing day of thwarted disaster.

Think of your average disaster movie, maybe one you saw when you were ten and you weren’t jaded enough to know that it always works out in the end when it’s backed by hollywood. So you think the alien attack, viral warfare, wild animal outbreak, strange critters, and overdone zombies are actually going to take the world. And you’re legitimately blown away when the hero saves the day.

That was my day. In the end, my GradPLUS loan has been approved and I will still be able to go to Malta. I know there are lessons in this ordeal and in 15 years I’ll probably get it. Until then, I am happy to be moving forward with my summer plans.

That’s a wrap.