I kick myself because my desire to write always stirs when I am experiencing the extremes of a particular emotion (joy, grief, anger, to name a few…). I long for the discipline to sit down and write as part of a normal routine, but I feel the greatest pull towards my keyboard when I am in my most vulnerable/chaotic/euphoric state. For example, as I type this post, it’s 10:20 pm, and I’m lying in the aunt’s guest room (a.k.a Sam’s Room) trying to decide how to feel about getting my grades from my first semester of law school—*and spoiler alert*—it’s not what I expected.
I got to North Carolina on Monday morning, and the moment I stepped off the plane, my friend texted me that the first class grade of my law school career was posted onto our accounts. I had a pulling feeling in my stomach that grades would be released in the coming week since classes resume on the 18th of January. Once I processed the message, I knew in my heart that I should wait to check until I was alone, or at the very least, more prepared and settled to see what I scored. But my intrusive thoughts won so I logged onto my school Lawnet page while waiting for my suitcase at baggage claim. It took some page refreshing, but eventually, my grade appeared.
Now, law school grades go all the way to F as they do in undergraduate programs, and I was nowhere close to getting an F. The problem is that law school is curved, meaning that the majority of students finish the class with the same score. I’ve struggled with coming to terms with the idea that I scored below average for my class.
This reality would bother me very little if I felt like I hadn’t given it my all to study and prepare for the exams. But I feel just the opposite. In truth, I think there’s a part of my brain that can’t understand how I didn’t do better. I studied for a month leading up to the exam; I drafted a 60+ page outline and parsed through older outlines to bolster my own; I worked in a study group towards the end and posed questions to my fellow group members; I recited cases and their applicability from memory. And when I came out of the exam, I felt strong. I wasn’t convinced that I nailed it, but I definitely felt confident that I made creative arguments that set me apart from other students.
So to get a score that says “you did well, but not as well as most of your classmates” is crushing. It is a pain that I have seldom been able to come to terms with. I have always struggled with comparison culture and I know deep down that allowing myself to succumb to it will only hurt me. Yet here I am, disappointed in the reality that sometimes my best just isn’t enough.
One of my goals going forward is to be at peace with things out of my control. I can work really hard…and that’s about all I can do. Grading is not up to me, and why should I let it get the better of me? All these sentiments are easier said than done. But as I wrangle with my disappointment, I notice something else…
Nothing in my life has changed. My aunt’s puppy, Hazel, still wags her tail every morning when she sees me. My mom still calls me to shoot-the-shit about everything and nothing. And my friends are still beside me, rooting for me when I can’t muster the strength to cheer for myself. If there is one thing that I’ve improved upon since my undergraduate career, it’s that I can rationalize that grades aren’t everything and not an absolute reflection of my capabilities as a student or, in this case, my prospects as a practicing attorney. The stuff that I care about—my family and friends—remains with me regardless of whether I score an A or an F.
This is not to say that my law school career does not matter. But I feel somewhat at peace that I studied as hard as I could, enjoyed the material along the way, and met some lovely classmates who encourage me to be a better student. All this to say, I know that I can be both gutted and ok. The world goes on, and so shall I. And by that I mean I have another semester looming in the near future, and I know I’ll have to buckle down (maybe even more than I realize in this moment) to achieve the academic success necessary to attain my goals. Onward.
