May It Please The Court

In LRW this semester, we're writing an appellate brief. In conjunction with this assignment, we'll get the opportunity to give an oral argument in front of a panel of judges.

I had my first practice round last Friday. My partner and I argued the case, an employment dispute, in front of two LRW tutors while being videotaped. We each had 6 minutes to persuade the tutors that we weren't complete idiots and did, in fact, have some command of the English language. 

I don't think I convinced them. 

I gave the standard opening: "May it please the court, my name is ______, counsel for respondent Tonya Howard." After the opening, you're supposed to state a conclusion to the issue, basically telling the court how you want them to rule. In reviewing my videotaped practice round, I said something coherent. So far, so good.

Next, I launched into my argument about how the district court judge properly denied a motion for an order of recusal. This is where the English language failed me. I stumbled for about 30 seconds and then one of the tutors asked me a question. I didn't know the answer. 

I resumed my argument and made it through another 15 seconds. The other tutor asked me a question. Again, I didn't know the answer. A follow up question was lobbed my way. Dumbfounded, I frantically searched my outline for at least a place to start. Nothing. 

I spoke for about another minute, stated my conclusion, and sat down. Then I realized I was holding my breath. It's a miracle I didn't swoon at the podium.

The feedback from the tutors was pleasantly mild. They told my partner and I to speak with confidence, argue with confidence, respond to questions with confidence, and relearn English. 

The good thing is that I now know how unprepared I was for the practice round and how prepared I will be for my final oral argument. And as far as relearning English or remembering how to speak a coherent sentence, it's really a work in progress. English is tricky, and even though I'm a native speaker, blah blah glar glar glar blah. Yes, your Honor, that is my argument - my client wins.

Power to the people.

I am Special (and so are you)

Today our school had a luncheon where a person from a particular area of the law comes and imparts on us their knowledge of the real world. I sat at the Business Law table and listened to our guru speak of the joys associated with having a focus in the banking industry during this tumultuous time. His advice cemented in my head that I should find a specialized area of law that will be needed and billable during the corporate-executives-get-paid-millions-in-compensation times and the corporate-executives-still-get-paid-millions-in-compensation-while-asking-for-billions-of-federal-bailout-money times.

These specialized areas include:

1. Insurance/Reinsurance - worked as a paralegal in this field, but Portland does not have a big market for this… there will always be insurance right? Mr. Obama? Hi, it's me, your fan. I’d like my free health care now.
2. IP/Patents, etc - I will never do this, but I’ve heard Portland has a large IP market for national and global players. Even little boutiques keep busy.
3. Energy - with all this talk of renewable energy I think it’s time to reveal my hamster-driven generators.
4. Finance/Tax - people either have, want, or lose money; either way it’s a win-win
5. Ambulance chaser - aka Personal Injury – people get hurt and want to sue; it’s one thing the economy can’t change.
6. Professor - there will always be students and I have learned that it’s good to be in school during times like these.

Lay Down the Law.

Note: I have no experience in fields 2-6, so my comments are based on what I think would survive a bad economy.

2/23/09 Update - I've been advised by previous Supervisor at Reinsurance/Insurance firm that business is down and no one has work. Apparently, people don't want to sue and are more forgiving in times of recession.

Excuse me, are you disabled?

The pressures of law school, and everything in between, makes the littlest occurrences seem bigger than they are. This, however, is something that has bothered me for a long time and I have been noticing it more and more on campus: able-bodied 20 to 50 somethings using the handicap door activation switches (“push plates”). Excuse me, are you disabled?

I’m not sure if anyone has noticed, but the push plate has the well-known handicap logo in clear view. Just like parking spots and other areas, indicated by paint or signs, designate those areas specifically for handicapped people.

Why then, must people use the push plate when they have not one, but two able hands/arms to open the door? I don’t see these people walk down the wheel-chair ramp, which takes longer. Not even people that roll their books around in luggage-like packs use the wheel chair ramp. They pick up their pack, proceed down the stairs, and then use the push plate. Why not continue to hold your pack, as you’ve just indicated you can do, and continue through the door using your other hand to open the door?

Even those that only have coffee or books in one hand/arm and have another free hand/arm take advantage of the push plate. I don’t even care if both of your arms and hands are occupied with books, coffee, food and/or babies (okay maybe I’ll let babies slide) you still have two functional hands/arms that, if anticipated properly, can open a door, without using the push plate.

There’s no need to take advantage of another person’s disability, in which they have no choice in the matter. (I am not saying disabled people are at a disadvantage for being disabled, only that opening our outward turning doors can create a disadvantage).

And just in case you were wondering, yes, if I am right behind a person that uses the push plate, then I go through the door… while burning a hole with my eyes into the back of their heads. If I am in a particularly unpleasant mood, though, and the opportunity presents itself, I will open the door next to them, with my own hand/arm, and show them how easy it was to accomplish.

Stop being lazy. Tell your brain to move your arm, to clasp your hand around the door handle, and pull. It’s not that hard, and if a five year old can do it, so can you. That goes for you too, Grandma.

Lay Down the Law.

No Crying in Baseball

So, A-Rod took steroids. Is anyone in baseball nation surprised? 

But he said he was sorry and shed a couple of tears, on national television no less. That's good enough for me. 

I hope to one day give legal/PR advice to professional athletes.

Rule 1: Cry. If you can't find the tears, use eye drops.

Rule 2: Admit what you did wrong but be as vague as possible and chalk it up to being "young and stupid."

Rule 3: Wait for memories to fade and hope there is some sort of amnesty by the time you're eligible for the Hall of Fame.

Rule 4: Continue to make millions of dollars in salary and hope that you can keep your lucrative endorsements. Mr. Phelps smoked weed and only lost his breakfast cereal contract.

Rule 5: Continue to use performance enhancing drugs because everyone else is too. Maybe switch to some new ones that are as yet undetectable.

Power to the people.

What is: The kind you write, not wear

It’s February and hard to believe that three weeks of the second semester have already passed.

The issue this semester is not confusion, but time management. The greeting to the second semester was very informal and professors wasted no time making sure we keep busy.

The highlight of a 1L’s second semester are job searching and the appellate brief/oral arguments. My colleague has done a fantastic job on describing what most of us will hear from our potential never-in-a-million-years employers. I have already received one such letter and expect more.

Appellate briefs, as I learned today, will be the main focus of my credit/no-credit legal writing class. At first, I was a bit annoyed about having to spend so much time on a project that will only get me a credit grade, but then learned about the possibility of receiving honors or best in class for the brief and/or best oral argument. These will also be indicated on your transcript and you get a fancy little certificate that shows your classmates how much better you are than them.

In a nutshell, the appellate brief is created in collaboration with a partner, and then argued in front of a panel of judges, who are really just our legal writing TA and attorneys who “volunteer” (i.e. get recognition for their “contribution to the community” and want a chance to show us 1L’s how much smarter they are than us). Some, I’ve heard, are actual judges (our oral arguments, thankfully, do not conflict with their golf games, which makes for happy judges).

For the record, however, I state that the “judges” I will argue in front of, will be of the caliber and pedigree that we mere mortals can only dream of (i.e. I will suck up because I want best brief and/or best oral argument).

A man can dream, right?

Lay Down the Law.

P.S. Briefs are not brief.

Deflection

Dear Law Student,

This is a form letter that we will pretend is personalized because, as you will note, it is signed at the bottom in blue ink. 

We received your application for our summer associate position and reviewed it thoroughly. While you should be proud of your previous academic achievements, volunteer work, and the depth of your work experience, we were not impressed at all. 

This year was certainly one of the most competitive in recent memory. We received 150 applications and are surprised that we didn't lose more of them. We have chosen another candidate with the experience and dashing good looks that more closely matches the qualifications we believe are necessary to be successful in our summer associate position. 

Honestly, we hired a law student from California because he's dating the daughter of one of our partners, has a 3.9 GPA, and will be a tremendous asset to our firm softball team.

We encourage you to apply again next year. Let's be honest, though. If we win the softball league title with Mr. California leading the way like we think we will, don't bother. We wish you continued success during law school and thank you again for submitting your application. And it should do you good to know that we didn't throw your application in the trash 5 minutes after we opened the envelope. Instead, we waited 10 minutes and then recycled it. Our firm is committed to the environment.

Take a hike, walk off a short pier, see ya!

Mr. Hiring Partner

Big City Law Firm

"Overcharging you for legal services since 1936"

Power to the people. 

Super Bowl Sunday

A man found himself in an unfamiliar land. He followed the course of a mighty river, drawn by its snaking rush deeper and deeper into a giant, emerald forest. 

He spoke to the river: 

"Where are you taking me, my new friend?"

The river replied: 

"It is not I who am taking you anywhere. Rather, you are going wherever you please, whenever you please, in the manner that you please."

The man said: 

"Forgive me, I believed that you were leading me. This is not my country, but yours. I thought that you were my guide - now I see that I am my own guide, as you are yours."

The river replied: 

"I must continue on my journey. As you may have guessed, I already know where I am going. You must choose your own way - it is for you to decide. I wish you a safe passage and hope to meet you again someday."

The man bowed to the river and stopped walking. He sat down and watched with amusement as the river, spinning and jumping, continued on its way to a distant, unknown lake. The man then gathered himself, stood up, and with a wistful sigh set off in a new direction of his own choosing.

Power to the people.