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.
