A Stumble in the Dark

Dear Tolkien:

I just wanted to write to you to tell you that I am not dead. I feel as though I will be repeating that statement often. I am also still in school, and will need to get back to my studies shortly. I have criminal law that I need to read, especially if the fickle finger of fate decides to pick on me again. Which I hope not, I love that class but as soon as I am chosen, I freeze up.

They say we leave our brains in our stomachs and our stomachs in our seat when we stand. I’m pretty sure I just left mine at home- it was the worse case to ask me about. I couldn’t answer a single question, and in the long run that’s okay, we will be tested on the color book, but you still look like a fool. Most definitely if you are asked if you read: in front of the whole class.

No matter if you said yes or no, the question has already been raised, can I move for co-counsel? It was pretty humiliating, and a little hurtful (not gonna lie, I hid in the back of the library). What is worse, it could have ruined my election. How could I be a Justice if I don’t read, and then lie to the class and the professor about it? You couldn’t.

The class didn’t see it that way, they saw it as a hard case, one that many would have struggled with. And as arrogant as this sounds- I shouldn’t have struggled. I should have been better- the best. As unrealistic as this is, this is how law school is.

But I was elected. But for some reason, I wasn’t completely happy about it. I felt as though I didn’t deserve it, that maybe someone else should have. I felt guilty.

Sir, two weeks ago we had a practice exam. When I started to take it, I nearly broke down and shut down. All I could do was re-read, wondering when we learned everything, and how to apply it. I panicked, I nearly just sat the whole 45 minutes and waited it out.

Then I said no. That’s not fair to me, and it’s not fair to Professor Criminal Law. I have to at least try. So I did as best I could, I got through it, and it might not have been pretty, but I did it. And it was done.

I then promptly went home and cried myself to sleep. I thought of how horribly I had done with my criminal law interview. I thought about how terribly I had done on my mock exam. I thought about how I was nothing like Holmes, H.L.A. Hart, or Blackstone.

And you.

You worked so hard in school- undergraduate and graduate- that you were given scholarships. You were a part of societies that created realms that many have tried to recreate. You went to Oxford, taught at Oxford. You are one of the most influential persons in my life.

And I can’t even get into a tier one school. Or a tier two…whatever that is. Nope. So how am I to get into Oxford, with its amazing comparative international program, when I won’t be anywhere close to the same here in boring old USA?

Especially when I cannot even respond properly in class.

But the week got better, the moment passed. I did know what I was doing in criminal law, in fact I thought of most of the answers the professor did. Even on the exams we had, I managed a medium B on the curve (a good friend of mine set the curve!), and I know where I need to concentrate.

I’m not going to fail. I will succeed. It will be okay.

Sincerely,

N. R.

Understanding Injuries

Dear Tolkien,

When I was first starting out in Undergrad (I just found out that law school is considered a doctorial program- yes, I know Juris Doctrate is in the name, but…) I decided to be very active. I was under the impression that I could be whoever I wanted to be. Not that I knew who that was (and I’m still working on it), but I was going to try everything I ever wanted to.

So I played Polo. Now, when everyone finds that out, they think I’m galloping down a huge field chasing after a ball with seven other horses after me. That is spring and summer Polo. The Polo I was learning was indoor- because in Pullman it snows half the time (most the time you’re in class).  Now Polo and riding have some risks inherent to the sport. Falling, breaking, and injuries are not uncommon.

People always tell me: Superman was paralyzed by falling off a horse.

It’s scary now, because I was almost paralyzed by a horse. One night I fell, fractured my back and tailbone. So now, at the tender age of 24, I have back problems similar to an old man at the age of 80 (no offense). And like Frodo’s wound from the black blade, it flares up and I find myself in agonizing pain, barely able to function.

I found myself having to grit through it this week. On Tuesday it was just too much and I had to go home to take a warm shower- something to get rid of the pain. The only thing that makes it better is laying down straight, warmth, or standing.

And I took a risk. For the first time I went to openly talk about my situation with my professors.

And they don’t mind. Crotchety old men don’t mind (well, they are actually very sweet). They encourage me to do what I need to do, Torts even asked if there was anything that could be done. They aren’t scary. Law Professors aren't scary. That should be a headline.

But one specifically stood out to me. Somehow, someway, he read me like a book. Like a case. Here is the History, the facts, the statute, the issue, the rule applied, and the holding. Done. But sir, it was done with sincerity and kindness. With understanding. They believe in us (law professors- the ones that are shown telling students they will never be lawyers!) believe we are smart.

I talked a little about you, Sir. Not exactly how much you mean (that was a little too soon) but we talked for a moment about England. He knew how much it meant. “It’s like you found where you belonged. That part that was missing.”Even now I get a little teary.

How do you know something like that? We've been talking less than five minutes, and you know something about me my own family never understood. Is that a superpower?

I wonder, Sir, could you read your students like that? I believe, not because I have this warm, fuzzy image of you, that you could.

You once said that you preferred a dim, hardworking Leeds student to a lazy, intelligent Oxfordian - because the Leeds students put effort and time into what they did, they wanted to get better and learn. I feel as though you cared about them (maybe not during the whole Hobbit episode), and as a wizard you easily could have read them. You could see the ones struggling, the ones that might need some encouragement- some understanding.

So thank you. Thank you for understanding and changing the world for them. I know they appreciated it. I’m sure you want to bash your head against a desk with some- but the ones that were trying so hard, and you were there, thank you.

Sincerely,

N.R.

The First Step

Dear Tolkien:

I just wanted to let you know that tomorrow I will be leaving for Alabama. I’ve been getting a lot of mixed messages, but awkwardly from the movie I feel as though Boromir is the one getting through the loudest. “One does not simply drive down to Alabama”. From “you have to be very safe” to “don’t go out at night” I feel as though people don’t really understand.

Quests are dangerous. That’s the point! If it were a simple, easy task- everyone would do it. What would be the point? If Frodo could have simply walked to Mordor, dropped the ring in, then it begs the question if the ring really did have power.

So will Alabama be like Mordor? I’m sure the law school will at times- but it will also be Orthanc, Edoras, and even the Shire.

I am leaving the Shire, and this time not to a foreign country: but to one everyone considers more dangerous than the darkened streets of Shanghai, the back allies of Hong Kong, and the cobble stone of London.

And more dangerous than Frat Row.

I don’t know if you have ever had to deal with Frat boys, sir. But you would be horrified to be a young woman walking down that street at night.  Which is why there are cops milling up and down- I felt safer hitching a ride from a Chicano in San Diego. Not going to lie.

I guess I feel like Gandalf and Strider: we are all fulfilling a destiny we knew one day we would have to. While Gandalf found wisdom and Strider found strength, I think that I will take on Sam’s hope. Sam didn’t know what he was getting into, and even up until the end he believed they were coming back. He cared so much about his hope, that even the dangers would not deter him (though Galadriel almost did).

So, Mr. Tolkien (Dr. Tolkien? Wizard Tolkien?) I am going to be Samwise. I will clutch at my determination, my hope, and my naivety. I will not be cowed into fearing the great unknown of my own country. I will embrace the adventure- I will dare to hope and learn.

Sincerely,

N.R.

P.S: Almost forgot! I’m not a fan of cake- but I did grab some Starbucks Cakepops, and some cookies that my Grandfather’s wife made! So I will not be leaving with out a cake in my pocket! Also, I am dragging that scraggly cat, Bo, along for the ride. He will howl, but not as much as my mother. Wish me luck!

The Fellowship

Dear Tolkien,

This awkwardly is the first letter I’ve typed up. Many have been written in my head. Unfortunately I often get distracted, or phase out from the world (much like putting on the ring, only less cold), and these never get written. But I find myself realizing that I am about to step onto the road, or have done so already. And while I know where I am to go, and in theory know how to get there: it is a theory.

And I don’t mean like “evolution is a theory” or “the Big Bang is just a theory”. I mean, “logically speaking, this is how it should work- but hey, who really knows?” theory. Which is a slap in the face to theories around the world.

Regardless of the theory, or how it should or would work, I often find myself planning so far ahead that I never enjoy what I’m doing in that moment (college). Or, I plan so far in the future, when something changes, I don’t know what other road is open (what if you don’t get into law school?). Sometimes, when I’m really unlucky I find that I have planned to take the wrong road, and have to start all over again (biology 107).

Which is why, while re-read the Fellowship, I found Gimli and Elrond’s discussions of loyalties and staying with the fellowship hitting close to home. The wit between the two was impeccable, but what most grabbed my attention was Elrond noting, (in several cases before hand) “Look not too far ahead” (348, FR).

Elrond is not saying “hey, don’t have an end game” because the end game is getting rid of that damn ring. When stating, “look not too far ahead” he merely is warning the company that they do not over look how treacherous, perilous the journey will become. Who know what will happen on that road, or where it forks?

Better yet, what happens if you only stay because of a promise? Having done that before, it is hurtful to both parties. Elrond is warning the company that there may be a time that they will no longer be able, or should be traveling with Frodo. And that’s okay (not that they need Elrond’s permission, but sometimes that’s nice). Surprises and detours, forks and dead ends, will happen regardless of the road you choose, however far ahead you think you can see. And sometimes, when you are so set on a course, you miss the road that should have been taken.

So I think, Tolkien, that I will try harder to take it a day at a time, and to set mile stone goals. How I get there will be what makes me stronger and wiser. I might get a little battered- I may loose something- but I won’t be fully blind to everything that is going on right now. I won’t be caught in that dream world of tomorrow (though Star Trek is still permitted) for long periods of time. I will enjoy or suffer the pains of today so that I will not regret them down the road, where they may have built up a more solid roadblock. I will try to accept the present as it is given to me. I will not look too far ahead.

Sincerely,

N.R.