Part of going back to school means dealing with actual, external expectations and my own expectations of my own performance. When it comes to school, I have hung somewhere between two schools of thought: study what makes you tick, and what does not kill you makes you stronger. But law school is something new altogether. People are really chill and, although stressed a bit, everyone seems nice. Law school is just another phase. No pendulums.
In college, I learned the importance of looking up citations and just generally being on my game. After four hours of prep on my first outline (admittedly a little too much for just 10 pages) I felt comfortable with the materials, at least enough to be cold called. The people in my class vary hugely in terms of preparation and time.
Looking at others being cold-called, I thought, I guess I didn't over-prepare after all. To my surprise I was called upon by the professor who did not ask me to restate the facts, but to outline the consequences implied by the facts that I had not considered before class (nor actually, were these consequences ever explicitly stated in the opinion). Time to infer based on what we know and what the text won't say outright! Game on!
So why isn't this a malpractice case? He asked me. Deer in headlights. My immediate reaction was emotional but I scratch that. So I think about the definition of malpractice and why on earth this doesn't qualify as a malpractice case... the pieces are there. I know why this is one type of case but not sure why it's NOT another.
Not knowing what to say, I am silent for a few seconds that seem to stretch a while. I'm sure I looked petrified.
The professor seemed about to ask someone else, but then he threw me a bone. It's a procedural matter, says professor. I quickly review the motions in my head. Lightbulb goes on. Because the charge of negligence was dropped, I reply with audible relief, as though I had lifted something heavy. Okay great. Then he asks - Do you see an ethical dilemna with this case? Having read the background I say yes, the insurer is a party in the case so there is possibly some conflict of interest. He asks me whether the insurer's interest and the defendant's interests are aligned. I give my first qualified answer; initially the interests are aligned in that both parties wish to reduce damages. Based on my answer, which he sees is predicated on a specific criteria, he proceeds to draw a chart. "I've never drawn this chart before," he says, and it is full of smiley faces and frowny faces. Charts FTW. Honestly I should just give more straightforward answers. I try to offer a tangent from the case about jury rules that I think supports the professor's point about conflict of interest, which the professor gamely explains (and I'm sure some classmates were like WTF what is she talking about; get back to the case), but he notes finally that it's mostly speculation.
Then I fumbled and lost sight of the the forest for the trees when later, he asked me, What is the generally used contract interest? This is a definitive concept to contracts which endows, as he will later say, the power of contracts. And I forgot and fudge an answer that is really wrong; basically I said the equivalent of "gravity pulls things up". Nevermind that the correct answer is in the FIRST LINE OF MY NOTES. Oy. Oh well; next time I won't be so lazy as to ignore my notes when I think I have a section down. Especially in the morning.
All in all a memorable start to law school.
No comments:
Post a Comment