Perpetuating the Stereotype: Part I: Law School

By Archer Blackstone

The authors are former paralegals, ABA accredited law school graduates, and practicing attorneys confounded by the way that the legal system works and trapped by massive debt. Though neither of us is horribly dissatisfied with the way our careers turned out, we would like to impart satirical wisdom for those coming up the ranks today, to tell those folks what we wish we would have been told. (And tell some things again and again, so the law school prospect can remove her rose colored glasses and see law school and the practice of law for what it really is.) Further, Blackstone is both a law professor and former law school administrator, so he can shed even more light – and do so, no punches pulled – on the law school application and admissions processes.

It may go without saying that some of the information we are relaying is obvious, such as the skewed admissions process and shark-like inappropriate attorney behavior. However, we start from square one, the Law School Admission Council (in conjunction with the American Bar Association), and expose as many truths as we can in the most humorous way possible, with cartoons, commentary, and anecdotes, and finish with a “full-Monty” review of the work world with special attention paid to female attorneys. What may astound the reader is that every story we incorporate is as true as we know them to be, from tales of law firm sex and drugs all the way down to what an average law school applicant really looks like.

In the end, after the reader wipes the tears of laughter from his face, the message that we hope the reader will take with him is that becoming an attorney is a very, very expensive process that may cost more than $150,000, three years of your life, and a number of years at a firm working around miserable people, if you can even get a job. You may lose your spouse, your friends, and your dignity. If this is the career path for you, here is what you need to know to go in with eyes and arms open wide. Don’t say we didn’t warn you!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Archer Blackstone
• Release date: Jan 6, 2013
• ISBN: 9781301208326

Book preview

Perpetuating the Stereotype

Part I: Law School

By Archer Blackstone and Elizabeth Blackwell

Copyright 2013 Archer Blackstone and Elizabeth Blackwell

Smashwords Edition

ISBN 9781301208326

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

We’d like to dedicate this book to all the assholes who screwed, manipulated, lied to, cheated, and otherwise vexed us over the years in the firms we worked at in law firm administration and as attorneys, as without you, we could not have written this book. You are our inspiration. You know who you are. So if you aren’t doing it right now, go F yourself.

Contents

Part I:

Introduction

Chapter I: Deciding on Law School

Chapter II: The Law School Admission Council

Chapter III: The Law School Admission Test

Chapter IV: The Law School Application Process

Chapter V: Waitlisted or Denied

Chapter VI: Potential for Scholarships

Chapter VII: Law School

Chapter VIII: Law Students

Chapter IX: Law Faculty and Administration

Chapter X: The Bar Examination

Conclusion

Appendix

About the Authors:

Part I:

Law School

I believe my mother often said, The pathway to hell is paved with good intentions.

Introduction

No foreplay, just screwed

There are about a zillion books out there about the exciting beast that is law school, many of which are dedicated to coming up with ways one can game the system and get into a top law school and/or get a nice scholarship. Be forewarned: this book is different, way different. Our goal is to inspire you to rethink your decision. Twice. We are going to tell you a bunch of things you don’t want to hear. The worst thing you can do is ignore our sage advice. Ignoring us now will cost you in the end, we assure you. Take a moment, swallow the bitter pill, and allow it to digest. Whether you choose to start your own business, apply for a management position with Wal*Mart, fold sweaters for a retailer, or dedicate the rest of your life to your God rather than practice law, you will thank us.

So you are thinking to yourself, What makes you so clever? Who died and made you kings of the law school universe? It’s easy. We’ve been there. We’ve been in the exact same position in which you are standing, in one fashion or another. We graduated from fine undergraduate institutions, took the LSAT with the intention of attending an ABA-accredited law school, read one or more of those zillion books about applying to law school, applied to law schools, competed for (and received) scholarships, attended (and graduated) from law schools, took (and passed) bar examinations, and worked in law firms, climbing the ladder there from the reception desk to the practice of law. One of the authors even worked in law school administration.

So? So, both of us worked for a living before, during, and/or after law school outside the practice of law. We remember how the real world works (though the memory is fading quickly into a blissful oblivion.) Neither of us is an Ivy League snob trying to tell you how easy it is to get into law school, how to do wonderful there, and how to get a ridiculous, high paying job. If we were, we wouldn’t need to write this book. We would be Ivy League graduates who did wonderful in law school, and we would have ridiculous, high paying jobs. We don’t; we’re two average Joes talking to the average Jacks and Jills out there about what this whole mess really is all about: chasing a dream with a price tag of as much as $150,000, and usually all in the name of wanting to help people. (We’ll talk about your beautiful, misguided intention later.)

The difference? We are not writing this to make ourselves feel all pretend-good about helping someone get into a law school with some hokey, half-ass, near impossible advice. Our goal is to keep others from making the same mistakes we made and to keep those unsuspecting good guys and gals from having a mortgage sized albatross strapped around their necks for the next thirty years of their lives, with no hope of relief other than going to work at a crappy firm at 8 am and working until 9 pm with only paralegals to heckle them (and no break worth a hoot.) We don’t want to cost you money, and we’re not going to feed you a bunch of malarkey about how we are going to help you make your dreams come true. On the contrary, we hope that whatever you paid for this book will be the extent of your investment into the practice of law.

We want you to reconsider your goal of enrolling in a law school. If you are hell-bent on going to law school anyway, we hope that you will take our advice, understand what to do (and better yet, what not to do) when you get there, and how to handle the practice of law, if somehow you get stuck working in a firm. But that’s a whole different story. Let’s get started.

Chapter I: Deciding on Law School

Not the destination but the journey . . . and food poisoning is always a risk

Why?

First, step back and ask yourself why do I want to practice law? Really. This is not the course of study to choose such that you can hide from reality and shirk getting a job in favor of getting more schooling. This is also not the course of study to choose only because your undergraduate major was something fun but useless like dance, theater, music, English, sociology, or philosophy, so you can’t get a real job and therefore may need more schooling.

When the authors were deciding whether to attend law school or do something infinitely more purposeful with their lives (despite having useless majors and needing more schooling plus wanting to hide from reality), the following notions flew through their minds, confusing them: I will do this for the awesome money I’ll make and for the prestige and social standing I’ll achieve while getting to help others in their pursuit of all that is worthwhile, freedom and justice for all! Bless our poor stupid hearts, were we ever confused.

I’m gonna make lotsa money!

- Are you kidding?

If you have a legitimate chance of making it into an Ivy League-type law school, and we mean U.S. NEWS AND WORD REPORT Top 14 here, not even Top 15 or lower, then maybe you can proceed with your delusions. (And this means scoring a 165 or higher on your LSAT. Period.) You might have a chance of getting into this for the money. Otherwise, give it up. You will be entering a law school where tuition will run you anywhere from $10,000/year minimum plus living expenses somewhere in the neighborhood of $20,000/year minimum. So you will leave school with around $90,000 in debt minimum, and some law firms are cutting jobs left and right. Many are delaying hiring decisions and cutting salaries. And, according to the National Association for Legal Career Professionals (NALP), that, even though the median starting salary for a member of the law school graduating Class of 2008 was $72,000, [i]t is important for anyone considering a legal education to understand that half of all starting lawyer salaries are less than $72,000 and in fact 42% of them are between only $40,000 and $65,000. (NALP, Starting Salary Distribution for Class of 2008 More Dramatic than Previous Years, June 2008, http://www.nalp.org/08saldistribution (last visited January 4, 2013) (emphasis added).)

After graduation, in addition to paying off all that loan debt on a salary likely between $40-$65,000, add in your rent or mortgage, utility bills, and food, and you are rapidly going broke. Sorry, kids, it just ain’t what it used to be. We know paralegals who make more money than new attorneys, and they are obviously ahead of the game, as they have one less $90,000 note hanging over their heads, and they are not the ones who have to sign the pleadings at the end of the day.

My father reads meters for the power company, and my mother is a waitress. They always wanted better for me, and I saw how they struggled, my dad working outside all winter long, and my mom on her feet all day, everyday, getting barked at by the public. I went to law school to get a job, thinking what was left of my salary could go to them to help them make ends meet. With my loan debt, they are bringing home more disposable money than me and will continue to do so until I pay off my loans in approximately thirty years.

My friend was convicted of a theft felony for borrowing some money from a bank at which she was a former employee. Our standing joke is that she owes less in restitution and only had to serve one year’s time, compared to what I owe in law school loans, my three years’ time served in law school, and my thirty year note. Not to mention she probably got a lot more out of the money she stole. I got ‘nuthin’ but a headache.

I’ll get to wear a suit and designer shoes, carry a designer briefcase/handbag, and wear a designer watch/sunglasses.

- Playing dress up is for Halloween and in support of a healthy sex life, not a career choice!

Right before graduating, I thought I would treat myself to two things I believed every young, upwardly-mobile, sharp-dressed female attorney had, designer sunglasses and a designer purse. I only shelled out about $100 for the shades and another $150 for the