Below is a paper I wrote in law school and just ran across again recently. I am publishing it on my blog for my benefit more than anything else so that I don't lose it. Don't feel obligated to read it. It memoralizes my law school experience really well.
The Rock
(originally written February 25, 2006)
I’ve always wondered where the rock came from. How did it get chosen? I imagine it used to be a boulder the size of a large tent that was hauled off a mountain from the red rocks of Northern Arizona. At least it looks like it used to belong there. Then, someone must have sliced about a third of the boulder off, turned it flat side up and scooped out the center. Somehow it found its place on the lawn between the law school and law library.
I crawl to the center of the rock and assume my normal lounging position. It’s a little sharp along the edges so I prop my bag behind me. That’s not much better with the corners of my textbooks poking me in the back through my bag. After a little adjustment, I settle in and stretch my legs. I kick off my sandals and lay back. Today, it’s cool outside and the rock is even colder, but the sun offers a welcome respite as it grazes my face. If I never move from this place, I will be happy. I’ve even gotten used to the occasional cigarette smoke that floats over from the café tables a few feet away.
As I sit on “the rock”, as it’s affectionately known, and think about the last three years, I am overwhelmed with all that’s happened. I am a different person than I was when I first got here, hopefully for the better. Sure, I know more about the law than I did that first day I walked into law school orientation, but my legal education isn’t what has had the greatest impact on my life. What has changed my life is the rock I’m sitting on now.
I guess I should back up. Going to law school was a very hard decision to make and once I got here, I wasn’t sure it was the right one. It seemed I possessed every insecurity possible. I had no idea what to expect because I didn’t know any former law students to offer advice. I didn’t know any of the people in my class. I felt like I had nothing in common with anyone in the whole building and I certainly wasn’t smart enough to keep up with everyone.
The first few weeks passed by quietly. I was scared of most of the professors. No one had warned me about the Socratic Method. I didn’t really socialize with anyone and kept to myself between classes. If it was going to be like this for the whole three years, then it was going to be a very long three years.
The first few weeks passed by quietly. I was scared of most of the professors. No one had warned me about the Socratic Method. I didn’t really socialize with anyone and kept to myself between classes. If it was going to be like this for the whole three years, then it was going to be a very long three years.
As I frequently traveled between the school and library, I passed the rock. Between classes, it was always occupied and it took a few weeks before I noticed the same people seemed to be on it. One day, I retrieved the courage to go meet the rock-dwellers. Three women and one man just stared as I approached, wondering what I wanted. I started with small talk, but the conversation quickly turned to controversy. It wasn’t contentious, so I thought it was just “intellectual.” It wasn’t until about two years later, I found out I had been tested that day on the rock.
Word had apparently spread that I was “the Mormon girl.” I wasn’t the only Mormon in the class, but I was the only one that was a woman so I guess that made me different. There are some people who don’t know who Mormons are and then others who just think they do. I don’t think I was welcome right at first because of some of the rock- dwellers’ inaccurate preconceptions about my religious beliefs, but luckily I won them over.
I quickly became a rock-dweller as well. Rock discussions about classes, cases, politics, and personal lives took hours from my first year in law school. Those people became my close friends as well as my greatest teachers. Each of them affected my life in a way that only they could, some deeper than others.
Kim and Ally are the two who changed me the most.
Kim is 38, but looks 25. Her short, spiky, dark hair suits her small frame. There are not two people more different than Kim and I. All of our religious, political, and social views seemed to directly contradict each other (she practices Wicca). Kim and I would sit on the rock and talk for hours, comparing beliefs and ideas. We had only respect for each other and never judged. Kim never persuaded me to join her in her beliefs. In fact, she never even tried. What she did do was open my mind to understand why she felt the way she did. That was much more profound for me than I can articulate. Law school may have taught me how to think like a lawyer, but Kim taught me how to think about the world.
Tall and slender with eyes full of tenacity, Ally is a beauty queen turned ninja. I doubt that she was ever a beauty queen or a ninja, but the description seems to fit. Ally taught me how to be strong. Ally is the kind of woman that will hold you while you cry over a broken heart, but only for a minute. After your minute is up, she will shove you back into the world with a new resolve to conquer it. She also taught me to recognize my value and see the value in other people. I don’t think she always knew how valuable she was, but I think that’s why she was able to help me.
Today, I’m sitting on the rock alone. I don’t come out here much anymore. Life just got too busy. Even though the rock-dwellers have all gone their way, I still would pass by the rock and remember. Soon, I will trade the rock for a desk chair in a stuffy office. I will be breathing recycled air instead of enjoying the soft breeze on the rock. I may not ever see the rock again after graduation, but it will always be a part of my life. I will be grateful forever that the rock made me a better friend, a better person, and a better lawyer.
