Mr. Kaman, come on down!

My number is called, its my time to step into the batters box, I am the next contestant in "Federal Rules of Civil Procedure" Whatever metaphors you wish to use, they all describe the nervous excitement I have this morning knowing that it is "my day" in civil procedure, knowing that I will be one of 3 or 4 people who will be called on to answer questions to day, to be led out onto the plank of uncertainty and ambiguity where even attention to detail is not enough without common sense in this archaic exercise developed to teach law students to think like lawyers. I can't say that I am dreading it. I actually can't wait. Already four weeks have passed in anticipation and there were many days where I would have had no problem answering the questions (although there were some days I was glad it wasn't me), but since many of the people who make it to law school are the ones who have thus far in their lives succeeded at school and were those students who always seemed to have something intelligent to say in class, it is hard for us now to just sit by and watch a teacher try to extract an answer out of a student who is walking further out on the plank over the ocean of one-L despair. We want to jump in and show that we have the answer, or at least move the class discussion along, but this is counter-productive to the very purpose of law school: teaching each student how to be good lawyers. This is trade school now. We are not all just getting our general education to the degree to which we put effort into it. We paid a lot of money to receive specific training and each of us stands alone and equal in this desire. So today is my day with Professor R. a day I will probably remember as I look back on my "lawschool years"