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Returning to Law School in the Fall | | | Over the course of the semester, Eben has consistently challenged us to think of whether we would return to law school, and if so, why. Instinctual responses to this question included the time, money and tears I had already committed to gaining entry into Columbia Law, the thrill of the intellectual challenge that law school posed, job security and income stability, the pragmatism of having a law degree regardless of whether one wants to work in the legal industry, and finally, my family’s pride and satisfying their return on investment. Returning to law school was a foregone conclusion. | |
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< | However, when Eben opened office hours with “What can I do for you? Why are you here?”, I was taken aback. I scrambled for what I had written in my law school application about creating accessibility to the law for those who had been obstructed by cultural and linguistic barriers, but they rang false as I could see no way in which the path Columbia had set out for me nor my experiences in this past year had led to the fulfillment of this desire. I gawped, unable to answer the simplest question demanded of any law student. Suddenly, I was forced to seriously confront the question of why I was here, let alone why I would even come back in the fall. | >
> | However, when Eben opened office hours with “What can I do for you? Why are you here?”, I was taken aback. I scrambled for what I had written in my law school application—creating accessibility to the law for those who had been obstructed by cultural and linguistic barriers—yet they rang false as I could see no way in which the path Columbia had set out for me nor my experiences in this past year have led to the fulfillment of this desire. I gawped, unable to answer the simplest question demanded of any law student. Suddenly, I was forced to seriously confront the question of why I was here, let alone why I would even come back in the fall. | | | Choosing Free Will | |
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< | At every step of my education, whether through formal instruction at school or through community, cultural or family-imparted teachings, my perception of fulfillment and happiness was conditioned to be the satisfaction of certain “checkboxes”, possession of hallmarks of success, and adherence to tried and true paths. The neuroticism with which I chased down these checked boxes led me to “success” after “success.” It brought me to Columbia, after which I would attain a job in Big Law, probably get married at 28, have children, and keep moving place my own children on the cursus honorum. However, as we read Joseph’s Lawyerland and encountered characters who had also followed the well-worn path to prestigious careers, I began to recognize the dissociation between the characters’ aspirations of what they had set out to do in law with their achievements in myself. Like them, I had been so busy ticking the checkboxes and constructing a neat framework for my life that I failed to see that all I had done was construct a gilded cage in which many of my original goals and desires have been trapped. How this purported path to success and fulfilment would instead, likely obstruct or contradict the very things that I personally thought would bring me joy. | >
> | At every step of my education, whether through formal instruction at school or through community, cultural or family-imparted teachings, my perception of fulfillment and happiness was conditioned to be the satisfaction of certain “checkboxes”, possession of hallmarks of success, and adherence to tried and true paths. The neuroticism with which I chased down these checked boxes led me to “success” after “success.” It brought me to Columbia, after which I would attain a job in Big Law, probably get married at 28, have children, and subsequently place my own children on the cursus honorum. However, as we read Joseph’s Lawyerland and encountered characters who had also followed the well-worn path to prestigious careers, I began to recognize the dissociation between the characters’ aspirations of what they had set out to do in law with their achievements in myself. Like them, I had been so busy ticking the checkboxes and constructing a neat framework for my life that I failed to see that all I had done was construct a gilded cage in which many of my original goals and desires have been trapped. Suddenly, it seemed like this purported path to success and fulfillment would instead obstruct or contradict the very things that I had personally thought would bring me joy. | | | | |
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< | But like the prisoners in Plato's cave, why would one wish to leave what they knew as reality—even if that reality were a golden cage—and confront the looming depths and unknown malevolence of the unknown? Instead of unboxing the various selves I had hidden away, perhaps I could wait until some revelation happened upon me within the confines of the cage itself. However, I was quickly reminded of life's brevity when I rushed onto a 16 hour flight to be my grandmother's bedside. There was certain irony in my grieving for my grandmother's helpless fight against her fated death and my willingness to go along with what formal education, my family and my culture had deemed fated for me. In relinquishing my free will and allowing institutions to dictate my future, I became my grandmother—helplessly hoping and waiting as my life proceeded and withered before my eyes. | >
> | But like the prisoners in Plato's cave, why would one wish to leave what they knew as reality—even if that reality were a gilded cage—and confront the looming depths and unknown malevolence of the unknown? Instead of unboxing the various selves I had hidden away, perhaps I could wait until some revelation happened upon me within the confines of the cage itself. However, I was quickly reminded of life's brevity when I rushed onto a 16-hour flight to be my grandmother's bedside. There was a certain irony in my grieving for my grandmother's helpless fight against her fate and my resignation to go along with what formal education, my family, and my culture had deemed fated for me. In relinquishing my free will and allowing institutions to dictate my future, I became my grandmother—helplessly hoping and waiting as my life proceeded and withered before my eyes. | | | Approaching Free Will with Creativity |
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