With the exception of a year and a half for my mission and a year and a half to work between my first time in law school and when I went to paralegal school prior to my second time in law school, I've spent my whole life in school in one form or another. In 19 1/2 months, I'll finally have a JD. I can see the light at the end of the tunnel.
I plan on becoming a law professor. Technically, a JD is sufficient for that goal*, but with the tight market, a PhD or LLM would give me a leg-up on the process. When I heard the recommendation of getting an LLM, I wanted to cry. The thought of spending another 1-2 years in law school was totally unappealing.
I just found out that UC Berkeley has a PhD program in jurisprudence and social policy. It's an interdisciplinary program (law, economics, political science, philosophy, and criminal justice) designed to prepare people to teach law. (The program doesn't require a JD, but I'm sure that by having one, I'll have a leg-up in that department.) It's tempting, but I'm just not sure I could justify another 5 years in school.
Before going back to law school, I considered getting a PhD in philosophy, but I decided that the timing was wrong. I do want to get one eventually, perhaps when I'm retired, wealthy, and full of spare time. I'm still broke, swamped, and getting to an age where I should start being a productive member of society.
Anyway, I have it narrowed down to the following options:
1. Go for the PhD. Start in the fall of 2010 and switch back into part-time law school at SCU. (Completion: JD - December 2011, PhD - May 2015)
2. Go for the PhD, but wait until law school is finished. (Completion: JD - May 2011, PhD - May 2016)
3. Finish law school and cross my fingers for one of those coveted tenure-track teaching positions. (Completion: JD - May 2011)
4. Are you crazy?! Finish law school and get a normal job as a lawyer for a few years before even thinking about going back to school. (Completion: JD - May 2011, PhD - maybe in the future??)
5. Who cares about tenure, anyway? Finish law school and go be an underpaid second-class citizen of the legal academy (aka legal writing and research professor). (Completion: JD - May 2011)
Thoughts?
---
*In theory, one only needs a JD to teach law, but in practice, one needs a JD from an elite law school (Yale, Harvard, or Stanford, in that order), a prestigious judicial clerkship, and a position as an editor on the law review. Obviously, I don't have the elite law school, so I need to land the clerkship, the editorial position on law review (I'm already an associate on the high tech journal, so that's at least in the cards), and I need to publish like mad and hope someone is willing to take a chance on me.
Wednesday, September 30, 2009
Saturday, September 26, 2009
My Love/Hate Relationship With Citation
In academic writing, citation is essential. [1] It helps the reader find the sources on which the author relied to make the conclusions asserted. It gives credit where credit is due to thinkers who came before. It keeps everyone honest.
However, the minutiae of the various citation systems can be annoying. They're all different, and each teacher has his/her personal preference as to which one to use. Does it really matter whether the period following "Id." is italicized? (For that matter, does it really make a difference as to whether it's "Id." or "Ibid."?) Will I be better able to find the source? I never was a big fan of rigid forms of citation, but I became especially opposed when I started law school. My first experience in law school was remarkably negative. (It was not at SCU, where I'm quite happy now.)
I had quite possibly the worst legal writing and research teacher in existence. [2] He was a grumpy adjunct who was probably 80 years old and he hated teaching. He thought the class was a waste of time, and as a result, he didn't put much effort into it. I learned next to nothing in his class. [3] He worshiped the Bluebook. [4] He would be picky about the stupidest details, and we would get marked down for little things. Forgetting to italicize was treated as seriously as misstating a proposition of law. Additionally, the class was graded on a strict curve, and the grades began with the first assignment when nobody had ever seen the Bluebook before. If someone didn't immediately grasp the nuances of this 416 page behemoth, there went the grade for the whole semester.
(I should add at this juncture that my legal writing and research teacher at SCU is excellent. He's among the top three professors I've had in my entire college education.) [5]
I'm in the process of applying to become an adjunct at one or more of the local community colleges. I hope to teach either English or Philosophy, but I could see myself teaching Political Science as well. In any of these subjects, I plan to assign term papers. I'm not going to be uptight about citation. Here's a proposed syllabus section. What do you think?
Footnotes:
[1] If this were a law review article, there would be a footnote after nearly every sentence, either citing to something, or making a parenthetical comment such as this one. Since this is a blog post, I'll spare you the extensive footnotes. (Five isn't extensive, is it?)
[2] I have not done an extensive study of the quality of legal writing and research teachers, but I have personally had three, and I know friends who, altogether, have had upwards to ten different teachers. This particular teacher in question is the worst. (I'm aware that the plural of anecdote is not data, but I'm also aware that hyperbole is an accepted literary device.)
[3] I should add at this point that I did learn how to do legal research using actual real, live books. This is the only thing I learned in the class, and it's something for which I'm grateful.
[4] The Bluebook is the short name for The Bluebook: A Uniform System of Citation. It's the most common citation manual for the legal profession.
[5] The other two are professors I took classes from as an undergraduate: one in philosophy (who caused me to switch to studying philosophy), and one in economics.
However, the minutiae of the various citation systems can be annoying. They're all different, and each teacher has his/her personal preference as to which one to use. Does it really matter whether the period following "Id." is italicized? (For that matter, does it really make a difference as to whether it's "Id." or "Ibid."?) Will I be better able to find the source? I never was a big fan of rigid forms of citation, but I became especially opposed when I started law school. My first experience in law school was remarkably negative. (It was not at SCU, where I'm quite happy now.)
I had quite possibly the worst legal writing and research teacher in existence. [2] He was a grumpy adjunct who was probably 80 years old and he hated teaching. He thought the class was a waste of time, and as a result, he didn't put much effort into it. I learned next to nothing in his class. [3] He worshiped the Bluebook. [4] He would be picky about the stupidest details, and we would get marked down for little things. Forgetting to italicize was treated as seriously as misstating a proposition of law. Additionally, the class was graded on a strict curve, and the grades began with the first assignment when nobody had ever seen the Bluebook before. If someone didn't immediately grasp the nuances of this 416 page behemoth, there went the grade for the whole semester.
(I should add at this juncture that my legal writing and research teacher at SCU is excellent. He's among the top three professors I've had in my entire college education.) [5]
I'm in the process of applying to become an adjunct at one or more of the local community colleges. I hope to teach either English or Philosophy, but I could see myself teaching Political Science as well. In any of these subjects, I plan to assign term papers. I'm not going to be uptight about citation. Here's a proposed syllabus section. What do you think?
Academic Integrity:------
It is a serious violation of academic integrity to pass the work of others off as your own. This is called plagiarism. If you are caught plagiarizing, you will fail the course and be reported to the dean.
It is, however, appropriate and expected that you build upon the work of others. You must cite all sources that you use. The purpose of citation is to ensure that prior thinkers and researchers are given credit for their work. There are many citation formats in existence, and they all promote the same principles. The purpose of a unified citation system is to make it easier for the reader to locate and verify your sources.
For the purposes of this class, you must cite your sources in accordance with a generally accepted citation format. Examples include, but are not limited to:
Publication Manual of the American Psychological Association
MLA Handbook for Writers of Research Papers
Chicago Manual of Style
Associated Press Stylebook
The Bluebook: A Uniform System of Citation
ALWD Citation Manual
You will receive full credit for citations as long as I can locate and verify your sources.
Footnotes:
[1] If this were a law review article, there would be a footnote after nearly every sentence, either citing to something, or making a parenthetical comment such as this one. Since this is a blog post, I'll spare you the extensive footnotes. (Five isn't extensive, is it?)
[2] I have not done an extensive study of the quality of legal writing and research teachers, but I have personally had three, and I know friends who, altogether, have had upwards to ten different teachers. This particular teacher in question is the worst. (I'm aware that the plural of anecdote is not data, but I'm also aware that hyperbole is an accepted literary device.)
[3] I should add at this point that I did learn how to do legal research using actual real, live books. This is the only thing I learned in the class, and it's something for which I'm grateful.
[4] The Bluebook is the short name for The Bluebook: A Uniform System of Citation. It's the most common citation manual for the legal profession.
[5] The other two are professors I took classes from as an undergraduate: one in philosophy (who caused me to switch to studying philosophy), and one in economics.
Wednesday, September 16, 2009
Feline Alarm Clock
It's been a long week. On Monday, both of the other admins were out of the office. I only work afternoons on Monday because I have class in the morning. When I got into work at noon, the place was in a state of utter chaos. I had to spend all afternoon taking care of little administrative details. I didn't even get to my desk until 2 pm, and I spent an hour answering e-mails.
I have a cite-checking assignment due tomorrow for one of the law journals I work on, and I've been struggling to get the motivation to get started. I meant to do it on Monday night after my night class, but I was too tired. (I got out of class at 8:45.) Then I meant to do it yesterday after class. (I got out of class at 4.) However, I forgot my student ID card, so I couldn't get into the library. I went home and tripped over furniture because my roommate used the carpet cleaner in her room (to clean up after the now-gone litter of kittens), so all her stuff was in the front room. I didn't get any work done and I went to bed around 11.
Just as I turned out my light and shut my eyes, I remembered that I had to set my alarm clock. I thought I had set it and then I drifted off to sleep. At 6:15 this morning, I woke up to my cat meowing and nudging me. I sleepily looked over at my clock and realized that I had forgotten to set my alarm. Thank goodness she was looking out for me. I was only 5 minutes late to work.
Ebony staring out the window.
Ebony sitting on the fence.Friday, September 11, 2009
I Had It Coming...
Everyone seems to have their preferred place to sit in the classroom. I'm a second-row person. That way, I'm close enough to the action to be involved, but not so close to the professor that I feel exposed. Of course, nobody wants to sit in the first row, so the second row pretty much becomes the de facto front row.
I'm also one of those people who is in love with the sound of her own voice. (I hear that's a necessary qualification for my chosen career of law professor.) I can't help it. When I have something relevant to say, I say it. Also, due to some strange statistical anomaly, my class is almost entirely composed of people with dark brown hair. There are two or three people with blond hair, and my hair is somewhere on that strange fringe between strawberry blond and auburn. So, we have the perfect storm here - a talkative redhead in the front row.
I hadn't done my reading for Constitutional Law yesterday. (It's not a huge deal. It's a subject I'm already well-versed in from prior educational opportunities.) The professor (we'll call him professor A) is a big fan of the Socratic method of teaching. He will cold-call students and grill them, often playing devil's advocate in order to find the weaknesses in a student's argument. He will also take volunteers when he asks a question, and he is much easier on the volunteers than he is on the people he cold-calls.
I volunteered early on in class yesterday and I made some vague 9th Amendment argument. (All arguments about the 9th Amendment are vague. Nobody is really sure what it means. My scholastic goal is to figure it out and write the definitive book or article on the subject.) Professor A said I had effectively brought up both the strengths and weaknesses of my argument and then he moved on. I relaxed for the rest of the class.
Right after Constitutional Law, I had Appellate Advocacy. (Constitutional Law is held in a big lecture hall with about 80 students. Appellate Advocacy is held in a seminar room with about 18 students.) I walked into the classroom and sat down in the second row, like always. As usual, nobody sat in the first row. One of my classmates came in and sat next to me. She's also in my Constitutional Law class, so we began discussing our thoughts on Professor A's teaching style. My Appellate Advocacy professor (Professor B) was standing near the front of the classroom (class hadn't started yet) pretending not to listen to this conversation. I mentioned my secret to getting out of being cold-called, which is to volunteer early and often. (Professor B doesn't cold-call.)
Class began. I tend to talk way too much in that class because nobody else talks and I feel bad for Professor B. (I have a good working relationship with him, since I had him for another class last year, and he's helping me out with my career goals.) I've been in the situation where I've been teaching a class and nobody participates, and I always appreciate having someone to chime in when there's an awkward silence. My goal for the day, however, was to go through the entire class period without making any comments, since I fear that I'm annoying to my fellow classmates.
My goal lasted for about three minutes. I couldn't help it. We were going over the quiz that was administered last week about our research for the semester. We were supposed to find cases about a circuit split for a specific federal statute. Professor B asked the class how we found the cases. The answer he was expecting was that we ran a search in Lexis or Westlaw. (They're online legal databases. The companies let law students use them for free, but they're really expensive for lawyers. The idea is to get people hooked on them in school so they'll pay after school.) Nobody said anything, so I raised my hand.
I got called on, and I said, "You're probably not going to like how I found the circuit split." I proceeded to describe how, in 45 seconds, I typed the citation to the statute, and the words "circuit split" into Google and found the Split Circuit blog. The blog had a post about the exact issue we were supposed to be researching, and a list of all the cases involved in the circuit split. Professor B got the most priceless look on his face. It was a cross between surprised, impressed, and annoyed. Then he composed himself and said that if I had been doing this research for an employer, I would have been commended on my frugality and efficiency. Then he said that the Split Circuit blog was where professors often looked when getting ideas for writing these types of case files. (I'm guessing the blog post I found was the exact blog post that inspired him to write the problem in the first place.)
I was feeling pretty good about myself at this point. I figured I was off the hook for the rest of class. After discussing the quiz, we moved on to discussing techniques for writing sections of a legal brief. After a short lecture, we were instructed to write three versions of the issue statement for our case file. The first one was supposed to be too abstract, the second one was supposed to be too specific, and the third one was supposed to be just right.
About ten minutes later, we reconvened. Professor B read his version of the too abstract statement, and I was pleased that mine was almost identical to his. (Although looking back on it, I'm not sure I should be proud of the ability to write bad legal prose.) He then asked for volunteers to share their "just right" statements. Nobody volunteered. He looked around the room at us and said, "Don't make me call on people." I leaned back, confident that I wouldn't get called on, since I talk every day in class.
Well, I got called on, and I was asked to read my statement to the entire class. I totally had it coming, though. After my little pronouncement before class that I volunteer to avoid getting cold-called when I'm unprepared, and after announcing that it's extremely effective, the universe (or, more likely, Professor B) was trying to teach me a lesson.
I'm just hoping my secret won't get around to my other professors. My goal is to be completely prepared for every class, because I could totally see myself getting cold-called with alarming frequency next week.
I'm also one of those people who is in love with the sound of her own voice. (I hear that's a necessary qualification for my chosen career of law professor.) I can't help it. When I have something relevant to say, I say it. Also, due to some strange statistical anomaly, my class is almost entirely composed of people with dark brown hair. There are two or three people with blond hair, and my hair is somewhere on that strange fringe between strawberry blond and auburn. So, we have the perfect storm here - a talkative redhead in the front row.
I hadn't done my reading for Constitutional Law yesterday. (It's not a huge deal. It's a subject I'm already well-versed in from prior educational opportunities.) The professor (we'll call him professor A) is a big fan of the Socratic method of teaching. He will cold-call students and grill them, often playing devil's advocate in order to find the weaknesses in a student's argument. He will also take volunteers when he asks a question, and he is much easier on the volunteers than he is on the people he cold-calls.
I volunteered early on in class yesterday and I made some vague 9th Amendment argument. (All arguments about the 9th Amendment are vague. Nobody is really sure what it means. My scholastic goal is to figure it out and write the definitive book or article on the subject.) Professor A said I had effectively brought up both the strengths and weaknesses of my argument and then he moved on. I relaxed for the rest of the class.
Right after Constitutional Law, I had Appellate Advocacy. (Constitutional Law is held in a big lecture hall with about 80 students. Appellate Advocacy is held in a seminar room with about 18 students.) I walked into the classroom and sat down in the second row, like always. As usual, nobody sat in the first row. One of my classmates came in and sat next to me. She's also in my Constitutional Law class, so we began discussing our thoughts on Professor A's teaching style. My Appellate Advocacy professor (Professor B) was standing near the front of the classroom (class hadn't started yet) pretending not to listen to this conversation. I mentioned my secret to getting out of being cold-called, which is to volunteer early and often. (Professor B doesn't cold-call.)
Class began. I tend to talk way too much in that class because nobody else talks and I feel bad for Professor B. (I have a good working relationship with him, since I had him for another class last year, and he's helping me out with my career goals.) I've been in the situation where I've been teaching a class and nobody participates, and I always appreciate having someone to chime in when there's an awkward silence. My goal for the day, however, was to go through the entire class period without making any comments, since I fear that I'm annoying to my fellow classmates.
My goal lasted for about three minutes. I couldn't help it. We were going over the quiz that was administered last week about our research for the semester. We were supposed to find cases about a circuit split for a specific federal statute. Professor B asked the class how we found the cases. The answer he was expecting was that we ran a search in Lexis or Westlaw. (They're online legal databases. The companies let law students use them for free, but they're really expensive for lawyers. The idea is to get people hooked on them in school so they'll pay after school.) Nobody said anything, so I raised my hand.
I got called on, and I said, "You're probably not going to like how I found the circuit split." I proceeded to describe how, in 45 seconds, I typed the citation to the statute, and the words "circuit split" into Google and found the Split Circuit blog. The blog had a post about the exact issue we were supposed to be researching, and a list of all the cases involved in the circuit split. Professor B got the most priceless look on his face. It was a cross between surprised, impressed, and annoyed. Then he composed himself and said that if I had been doing this research for an employer, I would have been commended on my frugality and efficiency. Then he said that the Split Circuit blog was where professors often looked when getting ideas for writing these types of case files. (I'm guessing the blog post I found was the exact blog post that inspired him to write the problem in the first place.)
I was feeling pretty good about myself at this point. I figured I was off the hook for the rest of class. After discussing the quiz, we moved on to discussing techniques for writing sections of a legal brief. After a short lecture, we were instructed to write three versions of the issue statement for our case file. The first one was supposed to be too abstract, the second one was supposed to be too specific, and the third one was supposed to be just right.
About ten minutes later, we reconvened. Professor B read his version of the too abstract statement, and I was pleased that mine was almost identical to his. (Although looking back on it, I'm not sure I should be proud of the ability to write bad legal prose.) He then asked for volunteers to share their "just right" statements. Nobody volunteered. He looked around the room at us and said, "Don't make me call on people." I leaned back, confident that I wouldn't get called on, since I talk every day in class.
Well, I got called on, and I was asked to read my statement to the entire class. I totally had it coming, though. After my little pronouncement before class that I volunteer to avoid getting cold-called when I'm unprepared, and after announcing that it's extremely effective, the universe (or, more likely, Professor B) was trying to teach me a lesson.
I'm just hoping my secret won't get around to my other professors. My goal is to be completely prepared for every class, because I could totally see myself getting cold-called with alarming frequency next week.
Wednesday, September 9, 2009
Short Thoughts - Volume 2
I've been swamped with school, so I haven't had much time to blog lately. Here are some brief funny things that have happened lately.
In the Library:
On Saturday afternoon, I had to complete a cite-checking assignment for one of the law journals I'm on. (Basically, I had to take a footnote range for an article, look up all the sources the author used, and make sure they're accurate.) I was sitting on the couch in the library in between rows of books. On my right was the Federal Reporter, a collection of cases from the courts of appeals. On my left was the Federal Supplement, a collection of cases from federal district courts. As my mind wandered, I decided that Federal Supplement sounds like it ought to be some sort of government vitamin pill.
In Constitutional Law:
Yesterday in my constitutional law class, we were discussing the appropriate level of judicial scrutiny under the 14th Amendment for affirmative action legislation. (It's strict scrutiny, in case anyone is wondering.) The professor asked a provocative question. (I don't remember the exact question, but he was using it to spark discussion.) He then turned to one of my classmates and said, "[student's name], you look like you're ready to litigate something." He then proceeded to grill this poor soul for the next five minutes. I'll remember never to have a litigious expression on my face after hearing a provocative question.
In the Library:
On Saturday afternoon, I had to complete a cite-checking assignment for one of the law journals I'm on. (Basically, I had to take a footnote range for an article, look up all the sources the author used, and make sure they're accurate.) I was sitting on the couch in the library in between rows of books. On my right was the Federal Reporter, a collection of cases from the courts of appeals. On my left was the Federal Supplement, a collection of cases from federal district courts. As my mind wandered, I decided that Federal Supplement sounds like it ought to be some sort of government vitamin pill.
In Constitutional Law:
Yesterday in my constitutional law class, we were discussing the appropriate level of judicial scrutiny under the 14th Amendment for affirmative action legislation. (It's strict scrutiny, in case anyone is wondering.) The professor asked a provocative question. (I don't remember the exact question, but he was using it to spark discussion.) He then turned to one of my classmates and said, "[student's name], you look like you're ready to litigate something." He then proceeded to grill this poor soul for the next five minutes. I'll remember never to have a litigious expression on my face after hearing a provocative question.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)