Something they don’t tell you very much about at BLS is the Practice Court program. Before you choose this school, they use decisively ambiguous words like “rigorous” and “challenging” to chide you (oh, well, how bad can a really good challenge be?) while simultaneously remaining somewhat honest about its true nature. Students going through the process will shoot you straight–if you can find them. But when you’re a doe-eyed 1Q or someone being shuttled through orientation or preview days, there’s not much a PC student gasping for air can tell you that you’d be willing or able to listen to. The only time you might listen is when it’s too late to do anything about it like, say, when it’s your quarter before PC.
It’s not like anyone is actively hiding the ball–the only instance I can think that’s anywhere close to that is the hyped-up admissions literature, which is to be expected. Man, I could just imagine admissions literature that had full disclosure, not just for BLS, but for any school. Let us eliminate all puffery, and in the interest of full disclosure say that these are our weak points! It’s not only impractical, it’s just downright silly. But, aside from the admissions literature (which I have not personally seen since I enrolled), I don’t think anyone is really trying to hide anything. Yet I come back to this idea of a mystique.
I know I’ve contributed to the program’s mystique in not being a regular blogger about my experiences. The truth is that you can read a lot from my silence. That sounds like a cop-out, and it is. But I’m being 100 percent truthful in saying that there was literally no time for me personally to reflect upon what I was doing or look forward to any concrete goal ahead of me. That, generally, has been what this blog has been about. It’s been a time for personal reflection and an opportunity to voice goals and hopes for the future as well.
But, in the Practice Court program, there’s no such time. Keeping one’s head down and focused on the 2 ft x 3 ft space of desk in front of you is really your only priority 5 days a week. Every waking moment is sacrificed to preparation for class and for advocacy exercises. Sure, there’s an hour or two a day that you take for yourself most days, but that’s not without its accompanying guilt. I did manage that guilt quite well; I was able to convince myself that mental sanity was still a bigger priority than school.
Through it all, I am exceedingly glad for the time that I took away from school, as scarce as it was. I am proud of my friends and I for staying as level-headed as we could about this whole thing. I am so thankful for Sara and her patience through this. It has, no doubt at all, been very trying on her, too.
I have a wonderful life, and I’ve faced some recent challenges alongside my friends (and with Sara’s help), and I have so much for which to be thankful. Yes, even these challenges are a humbling blessing in themselves. Thus ends this reflection. Now, I must commence studies for this quarter’s last exam!