Sunday, March 30, 2008

 

Sunday reflection: Silence and empathy



Last night I had a wonderful dinner with my mock trial team for the National Ethics Smackdown. We met out at Kaye Johnson's house out in the country near Clifton, and it was a beautiful place, especially once night fell and the stars came out. We ate outside, and she lit a fire in fire pit, and we sat around talking and eating. In the distance, you could hear coyotes.

This has been one of my favorite teams, and I have real affection for them. I had a lot I wanted to tell them about their work and what kind of lawyers they would be. I even thought about exactly what I wanted to say as I drove out, because that was important to me. But, when the time came, I didn't say those things. I wanted to; I thought about it; but instead I told some lame old stories they have heard before. My struggle was familiar. I'm not good in sad situations, at funerals and retirements and things like that. This dinner was sad, I suppose, because it marked the limited nature of our relationships with so many students-- you pull them together in the school, get to know them, care about how they do, and then they are gone. That flow of people and ideas is, of course, one of the best things about teaching, but also one of the most painful whenever another group leaves. So, I didn't say the things I should have.

I see that moment in others every week, in Practice Court. They know what they should say, but they don't say it-- maybe they are scared, or forgot it for that moment, or froze up. I know that feeling, too, though in a different situation (like the one last night). When I see that in PC, I try not to view it as a moral wrong, but something to be coached through. At times, of course, I do get tired and frustrated, but I hope that there will be empathy in me for those people who, like me, struggle with saying the things they should say.

Comments:
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Man! I know exactly what you mean. The entire post, Professor, was directly on point with my experiences in similar situations. While I always had a sneaking suspicion that others felt similarly, to read the words was strangely comforting.

I wish so much I had been there.
 
No, I don't think it's a moral wrong when you know what you should say but you can't say it, or it ends up feeling like the wrong moment to say it. When it happens to me, I do feel very frustrated and as if I have failed . . . but I guess it's just part of being human.

I mean, I don't think there's anybody who can say they ALWAYS say the right thing, or at the right time.
 
Since you didn't get to say what you really wanted to say..... I think we therefore should have another party at Kaye's house - tacos included.

All fun aside, I am incredibly thankful to have been given the opportunity to be on your team(s).

I am currently looking up locations of fried pie shops in Waco fyi.

=)
 
Most of the time in times like this people understand what you mean to say so even if you flub it a little they appreciate your speaking from your heart...

But it is hard to do that sometimes.. seriously. I can remember times where I was with the person and I was thinking like... you know.. "If there has ever been a perfect time to say something I am feeling here, it is now.. and I SHOULD BE SAYING IT NOW." and of course I was not....

It is so weird. I am not sure why it happens. BUT I think probably there are a lot of other ways you showed how much they meant to you, and I am sure they know it. Just because you never were able to spell it out does not mean they do not know.
 
Your presence on a Saturday night, your guidance through new territory, your sincere desire to make us not only better lawyers but better people, and Leggos = love.

Thank you for being you. We couldn't ask for anything more. Sometimes words are unnecessary.
 
Well said Professor O. I'm so disappointed that I was unable to attend, but I too feel close to all of them as well. Good luck to all in your careers and I'm happy for Facebook so I can keep up with you as you move on. Sometimes, I feel like Wilbur the Pig from Charlotte's Web. Occasionally, some of Charlotte's kids, grandkids, etc. (law students) stick around Waco and keep Wilbur company, but most of the time they venture away to great success. Have fun and enjoy life!
 
thanks prof. osler for your help this quarter. :) i wish i had something more profound to say in response, but my brain is really fried right now. so i'll just leave it at thanks.
 
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