I’m developing this habit of wanting music to put me to sleep. My insomnia isn’t getting better and too much reading makes it all worse. I have nightmares sometimes. So I had to distract my own brain from unnecessary analyzing to passive listening. =c
Category: School
It’s not my usual litany of complaints about school. This is about how a crammer who hopes to cope with the demands of law school and eventually faces failure.
Let’s assume our protagonist-antagonist (in Tagalog, bida-contrabida; the likes of Ruby) is a “he”.
Two weeks before the mid-term exams, he searches for all review materials available online. He makes use of his free membership to Scribd, downloads all references uploaded by former students, and prints the covered topics. He goes to school, shares to his friends his materials and photocopies sample examinations that are circulating like porn videos on mobile phones. He selflessly offers to send his materials to his other blockmates via email and does exactly that after leaving school. He goes home and settles, “There are still two weeks to go, I’ll have enough time to study.”
One week before the exam, he feels guilty for not reading any of the materials he has on hand, then later on decides to research more to pay for the guilt. It helps him a little bit, makes him feel less useless. He heads home and feels happy for having gathered such a library of materials.
Two days to go, he suddenly feels sorry that he does not have enough time to read everything and blames himself for adding insult to the injury — more readings to his already-long list.
A day before day 1, he goes out with his siblings and pretends that exam day is not so near. “Besides,” he tells himself, “I’ve been studying ever since.” But he knows it’s never enough, but still he gives in to the urge of a gala.
—-
I can’t continue this anymore. This is so me, giving in to little temptations. I’m switching to Dashboard. Sorry.
Gone are the usual days of feeling useless and idle. These times we are forced to act beyond our limits, squeeze our endless tasks to fit our busy schedule, and waive the simple pleasures of hello. From diminishing productivity we turn to optimization, but a strange and rare one because the curve should never go down, or else we fall down.
Time now clearly asserts its relativity, defining how time flies so quickly when you go through something that demands you to turn hours into minutes. In college, we read a chapter or two in a week. In law school, it’s not even just doubled in a DAY. Damn, I can’t count them.
We turn hours into minutes when we study. When sleeping, an hour feels like a minute. That is just how the brain is so much overused and abused. We make our brains our slaves as we push them to submit to us.
These are the days when we need to unwind the most because we are forced to the edge but time will not permit it. And the irony of it is that unwinding will only eat our precious time and we realize that the edge is not even here nor near, but still farther.
Let me unwind, I beg of you. But they say an hour or two is counterproductive, I say otherwise. Let me indulge in little guilty pleasures to bribe my retaliating overworked mind. It might commit suicide.
So let me into these:
a blog entry or two;
a sing-along with Beyonce and Mariah and Lady Gaga, too;
Fall Out Boy, too;
and Hailey and Alicia Keys (forget Carrie Underwood);
a romantic movie to inspire my lonely soul;
an hour of Italian language exercise;
a few counts of hip rolling and undulations;
a short dialogue with a far-away friend;
a few exchange of messages with friends and strangers alike;
a sumptuous meal and a happy stomach;
a few FLIPs (full laugh in pain);
some household chores and organizing my closet;
a few pages of a book non-school related;
a handful of cigarette egg rolls;
some googling and youtube-ing;
a hello to Poy and a sound of her voice;
a short prayer to uplift my spirit;
a fulfilling sleep;
and everything in between.
Call them sins and I sinful. Let me be guilty as charged, please.
What I need is a good defense ’cause I’m feelin’ like a criminal, and I need to be redeemed to the one I’ve sinned against… – Criminal by Fiona Apple
I couldn’t help but keep on relating what transpired during our most recent class.
My friday class is my most awaited, not that it has anything to do with our subjects for that day, but it rather indicates that the week is almost over. And finally, I can go home, spend time with Paula, and complete a normal sleep cycle.
What I was expecting on this recently concluded friday was less pressure, so I didn’t make much effort the previous day. If you knew what happened the days before, you’d be convinced that I was justified for taking a short leave from studying. For my Statury Construction class, there were four people that should report before me. And because I was such a crammer, I never took time to read my case assignments while they were already more than 6 weeks waiting for me. I was confident on the basis of Father Ferrer’s pacing of the discussion wherein he usually makes introduction of the case first before calling the attention of the next reporter. But maybe because he was absent on our last meeting due to the Bashang, he made his introductions short and the cases presented were abnormally short, or the reporters are simply getting the hang of it that they almost mastered their assignments. Halfway through the class, the fact that our blockmate one person ahead of me had began reporting awakened my sleepy state. I was so scared because it would soon be me and I haven’t even read any of my cases. And f***, I didn’t even have my materials with me. It was an uneasy situation, I was concentrating and thinking how I was going to explain myself to my professor. Desperate, I asked a pal to pass a note to the person who’s about to report before me to slow down. Fortunately, the bell came soon after. I was close.
As you would see, I was called to recite for my Consti class last Monday. And following a normal course, I shouldn’t be called again anytime within the week because that left more than half of the class as candidates. Father B. has an established reputation of ‘normally’ following a certain order, although he occasionally makes minor cuts in our classcard deck. But this time, before he called up the first person, he made a minor cut which excused a few fellows from being called that day. So there was like a fast forward as a consequence, and increased the possibility of me being called. My heart was pounding hard thirty minutes before the time, and I was seven persons away then. Just when the person directly before me finished reciting, the bell saved me again.
On our last class, I became more confident. I did read a few the other night just to help me get through with the assignment for the weekend. Our professor for Criminal Law follows the normal way of calling people to recite — that is, random. He makes cuts every now and then so you always have to be prepared. But because I was called to recite on Thursday, I presumed he wouldn’t pick my classcard. On two consecutive times? It’s possible but highly improbable because there are more than 50 of us in the block and an hour can only accommodate about 10-15 people because we need to define terms, recite provisions verbatim, be cross-examined on hypothetical cases, and what-not. Again, I recited the previous day, and it was even a tragedy for me.
Let me tell you the Thursday incident. So there I was asked to agree or disagree whether a woman can make a defense that she suddenly blocked out and killed her husband, invoking ‘temporary insanity’ as an exempting circumstance. There was nothing in the book about temporary insanity so I was caught off guard. Because of his so many questions, I resolved to finally say that there is no such a thing as temporary insanity as you can only be either insane (be it permanent or intermittent) or not, as insanity is defined as the total deprivation of intelligence. He asked if that situation would fall in any of the mitigating circumstances, which is on the next chapter of the book that I did not read yet. Before the class, though, I took some effort to memorize the mitigating circumstances just in case. It was good but not great enough to make me confident enough to recite — heck, there are 10 of them, btw. And since then he was asking about the mitigating circumstances, I didn’t get the follow-up questions and thought he wanted me to enumerate. We were in some debate so I apologized that I thought he was asking me to enumerate, so he said, “then go ahead, ENUMERATE.” I recited Article 13 of the Revised Penal Code with all the 10 mitigating circumstances. I didn’t even think that I’d make it to the last paragraph, but I did, luckily. Then he called someone else. I was not satisfied with my recitation so I thought I should redeem myself next week if I’d get lucky.
After such fateful day, who would think I’d be called upon again? But I was called on Friday. We were back on exempting circumstances and he was asking whether the pointing of a gun or a knife during a bank robbery would constitute an uncontrollable fear or an irresistable force. Three persons before me answered that it is an uncontrollable fear because there was no physical force but only threat. He was happy that finally one person disagreed when he called me. So I explained that because the person is using a weapon such as the gun or the knife, there is no other way that it can get further to be considered an irresistable force. So that mere pointing is already an irresistable force. I furthered that the moment the person inflicts an injury on me, there is no way I can prevent the injury from happening because it has been done, so there is no opportunity for an act to be an exempting circumstance to occur. He asked for an example of an uncontrollable fear so I can differentiate it from my definition of irresistable force. I gave a hypothetical situation that I was supposedly working on a pawnshop, someone called me on my phone asking me to steal a particular jewelry or else he’d kill my parents to whom he was already pointing a gun. That person let me speak to my parents to confirm their situation which convinced me of the necessity of complying with that person’s order. My professor even made a joke that I should have asked my mother where my birthmarks are located so I can really verify that they are not some other people. I said I couldn’t have asked further questions because I was dominated by fear and I could already tell by their voice that they were indeed my parents. After the funny remarks and laughing, he finally said, “Okay, let’s divide the class,” and put the question to a vote between me against the other three. I was somehow redeemed that most of the class sided with me against less than five people who voted in favor of ‘uncontrollable fear.’ It was a relief, although he left the issue hanging.
He shuffled the cards and called a few more people, and then suddenly it was me again. Two times, seriously? It was the call of the cards that he apologized for my misfortune. So he put me again on trial and asked me to compare justifying circumstances, exempting circumstances and absolutory causes. He did not ask further questions after giving my answers, maybe out of pity or out of logic that it would deprive opportunity for other people to recite and make their grades.
What a day. At least I was ‘somehow’ redeemed.
———–
*Don’t be misled. I don’t think there’s a provision in the Revised Penal Code that allows criminals to be ‘redeemed’. Hahaha. This is just for literary purposes and should be interpreted as such. Remember that I am not a legal authority (yet).
Today we will talk about the Versuses. Don’t be misled, it’s nothing like the Marcoses or the Santoses who we know to be of political and showbiz character, respectively. I highly doubt that there are people in this country whose last names are often of Spanish or Chinese roots would have Versus as a last name. If that’s ever possible, it is highly improbable.
It is an undisputed fact that you cannot pursue lawyering without having to deal with the word ‘versus’, or simply ‘v’ for brevity. Case law, as a primary source of law in addition to statutory law, is generally characterized by the ‘v’ word — that, having a petitioner on one side, and the respondent on the other. It may be brought typically by a civil entity against another civil person, or the State against an individual. Whichever case may be, ‘v’ is indispensable.
In law school, we’ve had our encounters with ‘v’ too. Not that we are against one another.
Last week, during our library tour for our Legal Research course, our block was divided into two groups. During our last stop, my group were up to getting introduced to the OPAC or our local online system as a finding tool for references and legal materials. While the administrator was demonstrating how to use an online database, she asked for a title of a case which we may want to try searching. A bibo blockmate immediately suggested Lawrence v Texas as it was one of the most remarkable cases we were required to read for our Intro to Law course. So the woman started typing Lawrence in the title tab but the search provided no match. Suddenly recognizing that we were using a local product, I told my blockmates that we can never find the case in Philippine Jurisprudence and that we should use Westlaw instead. And so it was resolved.
Before leaving the room, one person was making fun of another blockmate by suggesting that we search for a case under the latter’s name. Another person remarked in response, “How about we try searching Aliens v Predators?” Then everyone started laughing. Then I said, “Freddie v Jason”, and another rebutted, “Plants v Zombies.”
Perhaps you have a ‘v’ idea, too. Mind sharing?
For crying out loud, I cried over a case I was reading for my Consti class. And I’m not making this up to catch attention. I literally shed tears.
I was even almost cursing while I tried to enjoy my beef teriyaki meal which I truly missed due to my busy schedule. F*** it, a case on Estrada? Just the thought of it could even make me wail for such story has long been overexposed and overrated. The impeachment proceedings fast approaching the Christmas season were the center of all TV networks and they were hailed like telenovelas. I was younger then, and I didn’t appreciate why they all had to go through such lengthy and tedious process just to oust a corrupt official.
I know better now. But I was not really drawn by the technicalities, or what they call ‘constitutionality’, of the case. Rather, I was moved by how the ponente described the national situation then, and I felt I was one of those people who came to EDSA and called for Erap’s resignation. But no, the words of Justice Puno were like daggers to my soul. And for the nth time, I felt I am Filipino.
“January 18 saw the high velocity intensification of the call for petitioner’s resignation. A 10-kilometer line of people holding lighted candles formed a human chain from the Ninoy Aquino Monument on Ayala Avenue in Makati City to the EDSA Shrine to symbolize the people’s solidarity in demanding petitioner’s resignation. Students and teachers walked out of their classes in Metro Manila to show their concordance. Speakers in the continuing rallies at the EDSA Shrine, all masters of the physics of persuasion, attracted more and more people.
“On January 19, the fall from power of the petitioner appeared inevitable. At 1:20 p.m., the petitioner informed Executive Secretary Edgardo Angara that General Angelo Reyes, Chief of Staff of the Armed Forces of the Philippines, had defected. At 2:30 p.m., petitioner agreed to the holding of a snap election for President where he would not be a candidate. It did not diffuse the growing crisis. At 3:00 p.m., Secretary of National Defense Orlando Mercado and General Reyes, together with the chiefs of all the armed services went to the EDSA Shrine. In the presence of former Presidents Aquino and Ramos and hundreds of thousands of cheering demonstrators, General Reyes declared that ‘on behalf of Your Armed Forces, the 130,000 strong members of the Armed Forces, we wish to announce that we are withdrawing our support to this government.’ A little later, PNP Chief, Director General Panfilo Lacson and the major service commanders gave a similar stunning announcement. Some Cabinet secretaries, undersecretaries, assistant secretaries, and bureau chiefs quickly resigned from their posts. Rallies for the resignation of the petitioner exploded in various parts of the country. To stem the tide of rage, petitioner announced he was ordering his lawyers to agree to the opening of the highly controversial second envelope. There was no turning back the tide. The tide had become a tsunami.”
These are excerpts from the case. They may not appeal that much to everyone — which, signifies that I am one true blood balat-sibuyas.
On a normal day, a 4-hour sleep is good enough to sustain me for a long-day bout with my subjects and my professors, not to mention the stress and pressure that a “star-studded” class imputes on the average law student. There is always the need of being able to keep up with their pace and their lingo, which is somehow comparable to that of a jejemon language that normal people cannot easily comprehend. Not that I condemn these conyo people but I don’t want to acquire their manner, which is, btw, contagious.
I guess it’s expected in an esteemed school such as the Ateneo that most of its students would come from the affluent few. However, culture is not the only factor that needs to be considered when one would attempt to balance the costs and benefits of going through law school. Of course, the high tuition fees are already given, which is somehow justified because our professors are making the most of what we pay. The miscellaneous fees are also given because we are paying for high quality facilities. Needless to say, law school is expensive; and those tuition and miscellaneous fees are just the tip of the iceberg for they only constitute what we call the ‘fixed input’ in a typical production equation. Such fixed component is a basic requirement to enter law school.
And then we can also consider the ‘variable inputs’ in our system. They would relate to those that are not explicitly demanded by the school but some important costs that we need to incur on a daily or periodical basis to make the schooling effectual. These include spending on books and other materials, lodging/boarding expenditures to be in proximity with the institution if applicable, allowances, and transportation expenses — whether you spend on gas or taxi cabs to get to Rockwell. We also spend occasionally on clothes and other necessities, such as laptops, e-book readers, etc.
We are pretty much covered on the cash expenses. But wait, there are also non-cash considerations. Law school does not only require you to pay for the program and attend every single day of it, you are also expected to pour your efforts to fit in and make it through. And it’s not as simple as it appears. As Dean Roy puts it, we need to spend about 3-4 hours on reading for every hour of class. So mathematically speaking, on a Tuesday with 4 hours worth of class, we must prepare for about 12-16 hours, leaving roughly 4-8 hours for other important activities like sleep. And sleep is very important in law school. You can’t come to class in a ‘high’ state or else you won’t be able to make a fair recitation since it demands concentration, understanding and analysis. Without a properly charged brain, you are doomed.
So what is this time has got to do with our economic equation? We are not counting to time as it simply passes by, we use it to achieve our purpose in combination with other factors like hard work. And time plus effort and hard work results to stress. We also need to have courage and resilience, which, if we do not have as of the moment, we necessarily have to develop.
And what about ‘opportunity cost’? It is defined as the value of a forgone alternative. For example, instead of spending my 12 hours to reading, I could have done other activities that are more enjoying like going to the movies or an amusement park to have fun, or simply take a full rest. And law school is depriving us of a lot of opportunities like having more time with our family or undertaking more fulfilling activities other than being humiliated in front of the class. Not being able to answer is like committing a crime, except that it is done in a random manner and rarely calculated. You can be called any time, sometimes even for all the subjects within a given day.
Opportunity cost is higher for a young mother like me. I need to sacrifice looking after my little girl during her most critical stage of development.
In this type of investment, there can only be utility during this investing term. Utility in the hope that one day we will eventually become lawyers. Utility in the fact that everyday we become more knowledgeable. There can be no other form of returns or compensation until we make it to the legal profession — which, is still indeterminable especially in these initial stages. Our success would rely on our performance and how hard we are going to work in order to achieve it.
Law school is a risky investment. And like equities, there is a need for a long-term perspective to realize any gain. Like hedge funds, it is necessary that we strategize effectively as the risks are significantly high in anticipation of higher returns. Yes, the stakes are high in this business. Thus, the need to strengthen our operations and tighten our measures to achieve our end-goal must be emphasized.
I have a rare phobia.
Now that I am officially a law student, I think it’s but right that I also write about academics and not just any school-related stuff. It is only fair that I also share my viewpoints but I always find myself short.
I never liked politics although I have also been a student-leader myself. I did embrace leading the student government in two consecutive terms when I was in highschool but it was such an exceptional case. Yes, there was the notion of government and politics that was devoid of corruption. I couldn’t even distinguish graft from corruption then. The nuns were expert at honing young people with good moral values. As a student of an Augustinian Recollect school, everyday was a journey with God, at least consciously. But then these nuns were no expert at all.
We immersed ourselves in the real world unprepared for its challenges. We were ignorant and too good to be easily fooled, making us an easy target of this material-driven world. My greatest and only regret in studying at UP was the culture shock I’ve had to endure, because it made me a failure at one point to another. I’ve had my glorious moments too. The university was a playing field in a game where I can always compete when I want to. But I didn’t always want to because my ignorance frustrated me.
I was a good student. I never took finals in any of my subject, except for one wherein I was absent during its third long exam. I had no grade for that exam which forced me to take finals in lieu of that. And guess why I was absent… It was due to a heartbreak I couldn’t endure. So that describes how idiot I was (and is still up to now). I could ace my economics but often a little short with the technical courses. Nevertheless, my professors would remember me. And it’s not always a positive thing to note.
One time when I was supposed to graduate, a distinguished alumni of our organization who was then holding an important role in the college requested to see me in her office. That was the first and only time I was being reprimanded. And that was then that I heard the most offensive thought I could take from a mentor… “Your schoolmates are looking up to you. What do you think they would say if they find out that…” Let’s cut off that crap. (Hey, that particular problem was personal and she confronted me in ‘politics’. But that’s not the reason why I so hated politics.)
So, politics. I have hated politics since UP. I’d be confident with math and economics, including statistics, but never politics. And everyone might wonder, why law when it has so much politics. Let me love law but not politics. So what is the chance that I share to you my thoughts on academics? I hope someday I can find that little chance.
So how is law related to my frustration in college? I’ve always wanted to be a lawyer ever since I was a child. And with all my frustrations, I felt the need to redeem myself from all my failures. And I don’t mean to simply even out the kinks but I intend to somehow leave these failures in the shadow. I want to prove to my parents that I can get myself a better future, one that they have envisioned of me when I was a lot younger. I want to prove to myself that I can stand up no matter what. And I want to fight for women like me.
So intellectualism, I am with you up to the day I get my title. I am with you until I find my peace in my redemption, until I free these women from the shackles on their feet.
But hell no, I will not discuss the issues. Just let me through them.
I hit bingo *today. Not that I made a good recitation because such a conclusion would require a value judgment. So to answer that, no, it’s not a good recitation.
I was, again, first blood, in my class yesterday. And after a long interrogation with my professor, I didn’t seem to think we ended ‘peacefully’. There was no way I could think that he was ever satisfied of my answers, considering the fact that he spent like 10 minutes (that was according to a blockmate’s calculation) of our precious 1-hour class with me. And I was not about to give up, until he gave up on me. Hahaha! And it was not a good thing, I guess. But it was worth it.
And it’s not the bingo part yet. Moving on to our next class, I was duly ‘ordered’ by my groupmates to do the reporting on behalf of our group members for our Philo class. It was something that calls for a more personal note, making us reflect on how we think about the law, why we want to pursue it, what makes it attractive and what is its purpose to us. I delivered a classic line that goes, “Strive not be a success but to be of value”, relating to the purpose of pursuing the law. It is upon recognizing the needs of our society that we felt we can be of value, and that we want to be valuable. That was supposed to be the dramatic part until he injected the “what is value” question, which, btw, is a combined diversionary and delaying tactic, considering the time limit imposed. And the tricky part was the presentation of an object that would represent the group’s idea of law, wherein we decided to introduce the “eagle” as a ‘living’ object. He then emphasized that he wanted us to physically present an eagle, which is apparently impossible in our case. He explained the significance of such presentation, so I simply brought up his concept of “dream-storming” to solve the issue, although it was of no help at all, I presume.
What settled the bingo was my last class for the day, resulting to an all-class recitation. So there, you get it — I recited for all three subjects for that day.
I am not sure if I am feeling more comfortable now but, nevertheless, I’m way up the confidence ladder, just a single step or so. Maybe everybody else will soon get his/her own exposure and find some time to make him/her self more at ease with the block and the professor. Every single day, it feels like we are being culled. And every day we find a hot seat waiting in Room 313. But I hope one day I’d be able to look back and find how hard we tried and how bad it felt to really get what you want. I really wish it will come to an end — and a happy ending at that — so we can tap each other’s shoulder and say, “It was worth all the pain.” I’m looking forward to that day. I’m not yet done with you, law school.
And a bingo should have its much-awaited prize, although it’s in no way related to the same game I was talking about. While others are speaking of how they de-stress through wining, I beg to be different by simply dining. I think I can never learn how to drink, no matter how law school sucks. Good job to anyone who can make me.
A festive treat in McKinley was sure to end the day right, and tight to the stomach.
_________________________
*Practically, ‘yesterday’, but that day didn’t just ended for me. The day ends when I finally sleep.
And dang! I am confused on how to place the asterisk. Dang, jejemons! They are contagious as virus!
I am making friends with an old acquaintance. Yes, it was merely an acquaintance for I have not really spent significant or even a short, quality time with my subject. I had known its existence since I was in grade school but I opted to keep close ties with skill and talent. But they, alone, cannot hold me up in achieving a bigger goal. Thus, I need another one to match the growing dream with a bigger circle. Hello, diligence!
Oh no, I’m not backing out from school.
It’s simply to reiterate that the concept of “hell week” now applies to every week. And that being repetitive and regular, the term is no longer applicable to special weeks — not special in the positive connotation, but meaning occasional.
I will no longer have the idea of hell week coming at certain intervals. It will be every week, so there will never be a week that can be distinguished from the others as being the worst of all.
Every day is a struggle, and I am saying this not in the sense that we use it as we try to overcome a depression. I am not delivering this line to express my bitterness but to pose this as a challenge. I am not disheartened nor discouraged by that fact. It makes me want to fight more, not fight the struggles that are presumed in my position, but the apprehensions and anxieties I have in the idea. And I have to fight this feeling of pressure and stress without even trying. And even if I try, I have to believe and push to myself that I can do it no matter what.
Take the other night as an example. I’ve had a reading assignment, just one amidst the others that are in a long list, waiting to be attended to. I was totally racking my brains off for hours, analyzing concepts and principles. And being the occasional reader, I have to go back and forth and back to put the ideas together. It’s like putting the broken pieces of a fragile vase together, which requires careful attention if you intend not to break it again. Reading for hours may cause one to engage in passive reading. You go through the lines and simply loose the idea and the spirit of the words. And that only meant a waste of time, because I have to go through them over again. And extending more hours only results in diminishing marginal productivity. (I am an economist in principle because I know my math, econometrics and their application, but not at heart because I am devoid of its logic.) But I battled every minute of it to make it to the last page. The good news is, I was prepared for the recitation. But my misfortune is, my professor didn’t call me.
Anyways, the net effect is positive, I have accomplished the required readings. I just hope that I have fully absorbed it, so come examination, reviewing would be less daunting.
When the purpose of highlighting is defeated.
I may be a fool to waste my golden time on this self-indulging writing. But I have come to realize that letting my heart out is helping me in so many ways. For one, I get to keep my brains active while I literally feed my stomach, which for some reason makes everyone call for bed right after. Second, I am able to put things into perspective and encourage my own self to take things seriously as I try to look into the brighter side of things. And finally, inter alia, it keeps me sane in this mentally challenging world.
Oh, btw, just a funny thought. I have observed that as I go further through my textbooks, I get to mark more and more lines with the highlighter. It’s like I’m leaving too little space for the less important lines. So why can’t I just highlight everything? LOL.
Oops. I remember, I have an ongoing battle.
I am minutes away from sleep. Please, not an hour or so. I really hope, just in minutes. I am overworked and all. Thus, shorter sentences.
And I couldn’t leave without pressing — wordpressing at that. I do not want to forget a promise I have recently made to myself, and I am making it official.
I am not an avid reader of any kind, I have mentioned that a million times. And no matter how many gazillions I may want to mention that, it will remain an understatement.
I have, so many times, almost felt crying to the words of my professors as they try to explain to us what it is to be a lawyer. I am an idealistic person and their often too genuine definition is only but a confirmation of what I’ve always felt about lawyering. And I am not claiming that I know everything about it. As I discover every piece of the big puzzle, I can then suddenly build the image that I want to create for myself. Having worked out that this is the impossible dream, I have recognized the need to adhere to the 10,000-hour rule to achieve success. That’s Malcolm Gladwell’s, taken from the Beatles and Bill Gates, among others. So today I battled 2 1/2 hours, short hours of pure study. Not bad for a starter, eh?
Between the time we took our seat after saying our prayers and the moment I stood up, I was diligently conducting intimate conversations with the Almighty. Thus, “Lord, sana matawag ako sa case na alam ko.” And in between, I was concentrating and conditioning myself for a possibly shameful act.
I felt it coming. When my attention was called, I knew it was what my friend calls now “First Blood.” Not really my first bloodshed, not only mine. For it was the first baptism to which other baptisms would follow, but a bloody baptism at that. “This is law school,” I reminded myself, then proceeded with the case I was called to recite — “In Re Cunanan”. To trigger the processing of my poor memory, I began by describing the law involved in the case, which was the center of the dispute. “It was about the Bar Flunkers Act of 1953, ” I uttered finally. My professor didn’t really say anything, didn’t raise a particular question. He simply stated the title of the case so I went on discussing the facts, the issue and the held/ratio. Then words just kept flowing before I knew it.
A long pause after my very last word. Then someone else was called, and unfortunately interrogated. “What power are we talking about?” Although I did mention in the decision that “there was a manifest encroachment of the judicial power of the Supreme Court,” which is something I got from the digest. I didn’t sit down until he asked me to, before the second blood spilled.
I was shocked for a moment and contemplated, I felt I was short of my answers although it did feel like forever. My seatmate was congratulating me in my absent state of mind. I was still contemplating. It was only minutes ago that a blockmate pondered on how demeaning it would be for the batch if the first attempt would fail. And there I found myself with mixed emotions — bothered and relieved at the same time. Relieved that I came up with something, bothered if that was really “something”. I was the very first — and it was the kick off recitation to the whole batch and the years to follow. What a way to begin.
It could be luck that somehow I read the case and knew about it. It was luck considering the fact that I only survived the 15% of the overall reading assignment. Who could expect that I’d compete for a 150+ case marathon and reach the finish line on time? I couldn’t tell until now what he thinks of my answer. All I know is, I was the only one who was not interrogated maybe because I was the first blood.
So that was Tuesday. And three days after, it was still fresh on my mind. I took the exam with less than 50% of the required reading done. Open notes but the papers were of little help. And I survived.
I couldn’t imagine how much stress is there for me to cope up with in the next few weeks. This first week has been hell to me and the next to come seem more promising. It was really heavy load, but I was lazy too. I miss the feel of my bed and my blanket, and of course, Paula. And the thought of her fuels my determination. I am resolute. I will bring home to her what I promised. And I will prove that she’s not crying in vain for my absence.
This is not only my bloodshed. It’s hers, too.
*Is a term more often used in DOTA, according to my brod. Thanks, Les, for the wonderful term albeit the brutal context.
I’m a crammer. I have known that since highschool. Not that I am confident, I’m just lazy. And my brain is not even comparable to Pentium 4 or Core 2 Duo.
Sad but true, law school does not seem to be something that I am fit to be in. And while time is ticking, bringing me closer to my first day of trial, I was there wasting hours. Yes, I even took the time to sit back and watch the premiere of Prince of Persia. I love Disney, and I was really happy for the action and the depth of affection — something which Disney never fails at.
The movie is not the point of this sentiment. But just like the context of the movie, time is like sands that run through our fingers — faster than we know it. And unlike the movie, there is no such thing that can help turn back time. I don’t know if Walter Bishop even knows the formula. Time always flies and we’ll have to blame that on physics. And while I do not intend to complain about my readings, I have to remind myself of my promise.
I did promise that I will do well in law school. And law school is not at all about brains, it is more about resilience and determination. And that also means going beyond my walls.
What a crap am I… Wasting all my precious time. I have to go now and say my prayers.
The Holy Week was no extraordinary. I have had to struggle the same way I did the past few weeks, except that I have one more day to rest in addition to weekends. But life is a roller coaster. I’ve had my share of good things, too — well, at least, on a Monday.
That morning, I went to google the result of Ateneo’s law entrance examination, visited the school’s official website, and submitted to frustration for not finding any news. And since I felt a little less comfortable for immediately leaving my seat in front of the monitor, I took a peek at my Facebook account. It’s none like browsing through my friends’ recent updates, but was focused on the red marks on the upper left-hand corner. Yes, the notifications. And there was a message from a total stranger, an invitation for a possible ‘recruitment’ to a sorority, if that’s what it’s called. She claimed that I made it to the list of passers, and that only meant I’m qualified to enroll. I didn’t want to believe it although my heart is leaping with joy. I took a second look at the school’s website and found a link on its home page… And voila! I really made it!
I couldn’t describe the feeling. It even felt like I couldn’t contain it. But it was real. And I was picturing myself wearing a corporate suit, the killer heels, and the lawyer feel. It was such a huge blessing. I’ve been praying hard for it and it felt like nothing else was more rewarding than getting admitted to one of the top, if not the number one, law schools in the country.
Moves Like Juggler 