Osler's Razor

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.