Acceptance

My representation of my client is now over. It ended in an ugly, no holds barred kind of fight. And it was demoralizing.

My partner and I were accused of many egregious things, most of which I care not to discuss ever again. Many of which hurt me to my core. We clearly lost. But it was a bad loss. One that we could never have predicted. I remain hurt, and distracted. And feeling guilty, for some reason.

In this life, we have the opportunity to help people. To make a difference. We can make a difference in one person's life. And I attempted that, to my own peril. We take chances, we make decisions--we bet our stakes on things. We hope they work out, that there's some payoff to our own sacrifices. But inherently we know that sometimes we lose.

We lost yesterday in court. And we lost badly. We lost in a way that was degrading, and sad and wrong. We lost because of the immigration system. I wondered, as I held my client, sobbing, if risking my passing the bar exam was worth it. I missed classes, didn't write essays--I put my own professional career in peril. And I did it because of the conviction of what we were doing was right.

And I know, in my heart of hearts, I would do the same thing again with no thought. If you want details about yesterday, email me. I can't go into here because it's too painful. But there is something empowering working the hardest you've ever worked for someone other than yourself.

I am sad. And I am hurt. And I might not pass the bar exam. But I will never regret the work I've done to date, and I will never regret working for my client.

Life, I think, is about our relationships with other people. What you gain from them, and what you learn about yourself in the process. Sometimes it's wholly positive. Other times it takes a little more to find the truth. My truth right now is that I made the right decision--I will never regret that.

Reading

So, I have this amazing bookshelf filled with wonderful books, many I have yet to read, now that I've fully unpacked. I have received books at every major holiday from friends and family over the past three years, have continued to buy them if they seem compelling, and occasionally get them as random gifts in the mail. However, it's rare that I have time to sit down and read for pleasure-- I was at the beach in May I read "The Other Bolyen Girl" which was wildly entertaining (the movie is horrid), even though it is basically a trashy romance novel disguised as historical fiction (aren't those the best though???!!!).

Anyway--the past month has been a fury of work and very little down time--I feel like I've been moving at warp speed since January, and even when I sleep it's generally quite restless and disturbed. It's hard to wind down when you've been shuffling back and forth between major tasks for 18 hours a day, and I've been trying to find ways to let my brain kind of release before I turn the lights out. I've tried watching a mindless 22 minute tv show online many a time, though that has yet to work.

So the other night, I was perusing my bookshelf just to see all the great books I had to look forward to when I zeroed in on a book my Uncle sent me out of the blue this past semester. I had not had a chance to start it, though he described it as a book that could be read in small intervals and would be highly entertaining. I picked it up and thought I'd give it a shot.

So the book is called Anonymous Lawyer, and it's by a young Harvard Law grad who began a fictitious blog by the same name. The premise is that that book is written by a hiring partner in a major law firm in a major city at the start of the Summer Associate season, and it's written partly in blog format, and partly in emails between Anonymous Lawyer and his niece, Anonymous Niece.

It's HILARIOUS. And frankly, for anyone who has ever been, is currently, or is planning on being a summer associate in a BigLaw firm, it's frighteningly true to life. And for all the non-lawyers out there, if you've suffered through summers or three years with a loved one or friend (or anonymous blogger you've never met who may, or may not, occasionally blog about the trials of law school and firm life) and want a glimpse into some of the ridiculousness experienced, you have to check this book out. While I have been laughing out loud at a lot of different "posts", I've also been silently cringing knowing that there is more truth to his account than there is fiction.

So. While it's not The History of the World in 7 volumes, it's what I'm reading right now. And many thanks to my uncle who sent it to me! The past few nights I've been sleeping better and better after reading before sleep--and be warned, you might just start getting your own emails from Anonymous Niece before too long :)

Uplifting

This is awesome. And so is this. Not just because I have a special place in my heart for the Kenyan refugee camps after working in one, or because it just goes to show every person who scoffs at more liberal immigration policies some of the remarkable individuals our immigration system as saved, but because the back story, particularly of Lopez Lomong, is a tremendous story celebrating the most remarkable aspects of humanity.

I know--the Olympics are filled with those heart wrenching public interest stories that make millions of people around the world silently tear up behind the pale glow of our televisions for three weeks every couple of years. But read Lomong's story differently this time--read it and ask if you would be that family in Syracuse, NY, or the elder children to the younger in Sudan. It's touching, and made me wonder if American teenagers, or anyone, would act in the same brotherly way if faced with such adversity.

I suppose even if the answer is "no" to all of the above, it's a good story nonetheless. Go USA!

Roots

I've had a friend staying with me the past 10 days--she and I were in Peace Corps together, and she just arrived back in the states after remaining in West Africa working since we finished in 2004. Since she's been with me, we've gone apartment hunting, furniture shopping, neighborhood sightseeing and we've caught up. And it's been great. I feel like I've been in this town long enough that you forget to get excited about the city, the neighborhoods, the newness of moving to a place after being away for so long. And it's been interesting to see her beginning to adjust to figuring out how to begin to plant roots here, and more important, how to adjust to being comfortable making decisions that will have a semi-permanent impact on where she's residing.

We were browsing the stores on 14th St today looking at furniture and homewares in some of my favorite places in the city. I found a lovely chair that I bought on impulse, she got ideas about how to slowly make her shiney new apartment her own. And as we walked out of one of the stores, she turned to me said "Now I have culture shock. This is the first time it's really set in". I asked her what she meant, and she said "it's the fact that I'm considering all this big furniture, this heavy hard to move furniture. How am I going to move it all?" I breezily replied, without much thought into her comment "Oh don't worry, all these places have delivery services--they move it for you!" She paused and said something more profound that the meaningless way in which I interpreted her comment "No, I mean, I'm buying big things, things I can't just throw in a bag and move when I'm ready to leave--I'm buying things that can't pack and travel--this feels final".

I know the way she's feeling, and I know the feelings she's struggling with. When I started law school I felt itchy and uncomfortable, thinking that this decision I was making meant that I HAD to plant roots--I could not just get up and walk away when I was ready for a new adventure. And I adjusted...until it ended. I cut off my hair a couple of weeks ago. As one unnamed person in my family once told me "honey, you're hair is your best asset". It was definitely time for a trim, it was looooong, and it's not fun to have long hair in this town in the summer because it becomes like a wool blanket. But instead of getting it trimmed, I lobbed off about 10 inches. It was liberating to a point, but it still felt...like something else needed to happen in conjunction.

I have been thinking about my decision since I did it, and was thinking about the last time I made a drastic styling decision. Exactly 6 years ago before I left the city to go to Peace Corps I walked into another fancy salon in town and had them do the same thing--cut it off--new style, new adventure. And I realized this time, the missing link is not having an adventure to go along with the style.

I've become more and more anxious about starting my job in the fall. I don't want to go back to where I'm heading, I don't know if I can live thorugh a year of working for the people who will be my bosses. Over the past month I've slowly realized the importance of joy, and happiness, and contentment in life. So, I've started exploring new options, sent some emails, have begun getting my ducks in a row, just in case I need that escape hatch if things become too bad. But unlike 6 years ago, I've also realized I've matured enough to realize that my roots no longer yank up as easily, and forcing them will merely cause peripheral destruction that is neither necessary or beneficial. But I don't think a change is far from coming-the winds are blowing in that direction as is my hair.