Tuesday, March 20, 2007

 

My Worst Day in Practice Court, Ever



Ugh. Today was a terrible, no-good, very bad day.

Practice Court is hard. The students have their ups and downs. We profs do, too. But today was really stinky.

I walked into Professional Responsibility this morning, and something was wrong. The closest I can come to describing it is that it looked like the students had been visited by dementors, who had sucked out their souls. They were tepid, flat, lifeless, and the first person I called on had not only not done the reading, she didn't even have the case with her. I excused her and tried to make some headway, with little success. Mr. Lansford and Ms. Ross and a few others showed some life, but overall it was grim.

So, I jumped into my bag of tricks and tried everything I had. I quoted the Bible. I whipped out my Miranda card. I made jokes using a megaphone. I changed into a leotard and performed a liturgical dance, interpreting the 23d Psalm. Finally, desperate, I brought in Dame Judy Dench, and we performed a scene from the OJ Simpson trial. Nothing worked.

Sadly, it was my favorite scheduled day of PR, when I get to talk about prosecutorial discretion. But it all fell flat.

So I came home and sulked. But I did remember something that gives me hope. They get better, they recover-- in the end, there is good that comes of all this. Yesterday, in sentencing class, post-PCer Keric Clanahan did a near-perfect examination of a witness. It wasn't just that he did a great job of asking questions and preparing the witness; even better, he chose precisely the right witness in a way that linked into a strong theory of the case.

It's a long shlog up the hill. But, it does look pretty good at the top.

Comments:
I like to build a nice house for the dinosaurs with Spencer, complete with a veranda and a billiard room.
 
Hurray for Ms. Ross. You know she was mine before she was yours. Ask her sometime.

By the way, sulking doesn't help much after a flat day. Everyone has those days from time to time, and it serves no purpose to beat yourself up. You know, improvise.
 
You should give them a class memo. That always gets folks focused again. We never got a prosecutorial discretion day, so they should've been especially grateful and prepared. Or, you could say nothing and then just test it VERY heavily. That would be consistent with your non-PC attendance policy but might not have much effect on your short term enjoyment of the class. Hope they wake up.
 
I'm always floored by a bad teaching day. As a relatively new teacher, it still surprises me how you absolutely cannot foresee how a class will react on any given day, and how the chemistry between the students themselves, or between the students and you, is going to work, even with a class you think you know. It's one of the best lessons in humility and in learning to improvise I've ever experienced. Not that I have mastered it, at all . . .

I still succumb to the "beat yourself up" tendency, when it could be that it had nothing to do with me at all, and everything to do with what the kids had the period before me, or one kid in the class who was absent and has a positive or negative influence on the others.

The good days are when you go in scared or less than prepared and it just as unexpectedly turns out great; they're all talkative and laugh at your humor. I'm still weighing whether the good days make up for the duds. At least they make you appreciate the kids more. (I have high-school students. I think primary kids are another story completely . . .)
 
GO KERIC! GO CHERYL! Best attorney ever, best witness ever. It always helps to use the spouse as a witness, although it might be a bit of a conflict in real life. :)
 
You closing phrase reminded me of a couple of Trail-isms we would often hear in PR about the first quarters -- "It's [teaching the first quarters] like carrying a giant bag of rocks up a hill," and "Square peg, round hole, square peg, round hole." I am sure you will recall his version of your "demontors," namely "the "dumbass gas" that pervaded the room one fine day. Ahhh. the good ol' days.
 
I had a whole summer of teaching tepid, flat, and lifeless students. Of course, that was at a lesser law school - the Sesame Street of Law Schools.

-B
 
Dear Mr. -B:

While we appreciate your attempt at humor, we ask that you cease and desist from using the trademarked name "Sesame Street" when referring to any law school, no matter how juvenile or elementary its student body. Our good name is far too valuable to be associated with anything tepid, flat or lifeless.
 
Joe (12:57), you sound like a massive, bitter tool. Find something better to do with your time.
 
It was a little tongue in cheek. Perhaps i should've been more obvious and put a little smiley. :) Osler will remember me as someone from whom he regularly deducted grade points for attendance and many current students know that i actually made a pillow out of my book bag and slept through PR w/ Trail (he had an arrangement with us that permitted me to do so).

That said, not even having the case is beyond the pale and knowing the work these profs put in, the students have no excuse to suck wind. Y'all just came back from Spring Break, right? Y'all know Osler was a fed prosecutor? You had the reading assignment? Y'all didn't think maybe, just maybe, Osler might be up for a good discussion on that day? I enjoyed PC, you sound bitter to me. Lighten up, trust me, it'll go easier.
 
from my perspective as a student in the class i thougt it was going well and i felt engaged and interested. i like prosecutorial discretion day too, it really brings home the ethical challenges prosecutors face.

i was actually kind of surprised when you said that we looked beat down.
 
I missed prosecutorial discretion day because I was locked on an airplane?! Woe!
 
PR is a boring class. Period. It doesn't matter who teaches it.
 
This is a refreshing post, Mark. I think we all have days like this. You work overtime preparing and ... you bomb!

But then there are those days of pure grace. You walk in to class abstracted, unprepared, unsure of what to do. And then it somehow all comes together into a wonderful occasion that ends all too quickly.
 
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