Confession, Part 2

She seems nice.

In the previous post I described how, as a TA in my third year of law school, I drove my 1Ls to tears with my harsh critique of their initial writing efforts.  Which is sort of ridiculous, because I knew nothing about legal writing by the time I graduated from law school.  Yale Law School then—and as far as I know, now—does not stoop to offer a comprehensive lawyering skills program to its students.  Because if you were brilliant in your analysis of Chaucer in undergrad, why in god’s name would you need to be taught how to write a summary judgment motion?  You’re smart enough to figure it out.

Our Mistress, Stress.

I am somewhat obsessed with the hidden cultural messages in the results of Google Images searches.  There are any number of wonderful/horrible images associated with the word “stress,” but this has to be the most fantastic by far.  Without bothering to find out why the image was actually there, I speculate: Is the cow stressed because he (no utter) is being required to perform outside of his natural environment?  Or is this a happy heifer who has shed society’s expectations to pursue his dream?  At any rate, it makes me laugh—a proven “stress-buster.”

Labor Day Intermission: A Gallery of Horrible Corporate Art

This is a cute baby in a briefcase. He looks pretty happy.

I hope all of you are enjoying the long weekend, at some point taking the opportunity to do nothing at all.  As Proust would attest, there are certain truths that only occur to us in moments of repose.

Community and Movement

Since beginning this project I never cease to be amazed at the breadth and diversity of the movement to humanize legal education and other related movements.  I think many of you would be very interested in “Cutting Edge Law” a blog/on-line magazine with the following mission:

Pay Attention to the Man Behind the Curtain

Toto Reveals the Man Behind the Curtain

We have a lot to figure out.  Yesterday, a student dropped by my office and told me that she had come across this blog.  She then shared with me briefly how she and some of her peers had felt very uncomfortable and suddenly afraid to speak in their first-year classes because the comments and concerns that they had about the material were so different than what they were supposed to be thinking and talking about.

Preview: What Faculty Members Can Do to Humanize Legal Education and Improve Law Student Performance

This blog is currently at the stage of identifying and defining the problem of why law students and lawyers do not thrive with respect to several indicia.  But before this all becomes too morose, I want to cut to the chase and preview some of the very exciting and encouraging research that has been done on potential solutions to this problem.

From the Comments: A “Free to Be You and Me” Law School?

I am re-posting a comment on the Proust entry to the main body of the blog because it raises a very important issue, and may spark quite a bit of conversation.  shg’s comment really goes to the heart of the concern about the movement to humanize legal education, and is an important issue for proponents of the movement to respond to, in my view.

Proust’s Nightmare (Mertz’s Proposition 3)

“In my most desperate moments, I have never conceived of anything more horrible than a law office.”

Marcel Proust, quoted by Alain de Botton in How Proust Can Change Your Life at 12.

Forests, Trees, and Thoughts on the Case Method (Mertz’s Proposition 2)

Previously, we learned about the overarching premise of Mertz’s 7 Propositions: that premise being that law school teaches students a way of knowing (an epistemology) by teaching students a common language that structures their view of the world, the people in it, and human conflict. On another level, legal language (what we read and how we learn to speak) structures the pursuit of the “right” answer, that is, the truth.

Blade Runner, Epistemology, and the Endeavor of Law School (Mertz’s Proposition 1)

As previously explained, Elizabeth Mertz’s book, “The Language of Law School,” sets forth the results of her systematic study of the common language used at eight different law schools, by eight different professors, in teaching a first-year section of contracts.