It’s time for my annual (or semi-annual, if you have to take the February bar for whatever reason) rant about the bar exam. I won’t say a peep about the disaster that was the February California Bar Exam. That prompted the resignation of the bar’s executive director. Suffice it to say that the drubbing the bar has taken from every corner about its misfires would seem to ensure that the various FUBARS won’t happen again, at least hopefully not any time soon.
I have only one rule for bar examinees: STFU. What do I mean? Exactly that. Gag yourself if you are tempted to get into any kind of discussion about any part of the exam and how you answered the questions, whether they are multistate or essays or performance. It’s hard enough just getting through the exam without questioning yourself as to how you answered, whether you missed issues, or saw issues that others didn’t.
Do not under any circumstances discuss the exam or any part of the exam with anyone else, whether that person graduated at the top of your class or somewhere below. And I mean anyone else. The worst thing is to have someone discuss very confidently how he answered a question or spotted an issue in a particular way and you didn’t. Don’t assume that he’s right and you’re wrong. Braggadocio doesn’t equate to bar passage.
STFU during exam breaks (no need to increase your insecurity level which is already close to exploding) and definitely STFU after the exam is over for obvious reasons: it’s too late to do anything (not that you could have necessarily done any more studying during those breaks), and you don’t need to spend however many months you have until the results in deep depression. The die has been cast.
If you happen to be in the presence of anyone who starts to discuss the exam, run, don’t walk, in any direction. There’s no way to know that he’s right and you’re wrong, and isn’t it a case of assuming facts not in evidence? Let it go. Don’t perseverate. Even those of us who took the exam decades ago can still remember the rampant insecurity felt once the exam ended. Just ask any dinosaur lawyer.
Remember when we were kids (regardless of when that was) we were told to play nicely with others, “no kicking, no slapping, no biting.” Most of us have remembered that admonition although it’s hard when opposing counsel tries our patience. Nonetheless, we refrain. But one Biglaw summer associate did not. (I am most definitely not making this up.)
It’s hard to fathom how and why this woman decided to get her teeth (literally) into the summer associate program. WTF? If you are making a positive impression in the hopes of landing a Biglaw gig after law school, this was a very strange way to go about it. This was not just a single bite, but in the double digits. Was the associate pissed because there weren’t enough snacks? Was she irritated because she didn’t have enough chances to be wined and dined? (Even Biglaw firms are apparently cutting back on the usual summer frolics.) Was she a literally starving law student who salivated at opportunities due to her undiagnosed hypoglycemia? Has anyone ever heard of this before? Where does this conduct fall in the panoply of bizarro summer associate stories?
So, in a classic case of one who had bitten off (literally) more than she could chew, she was let go. Should she receive a breakfast of “chompions” award? (Sorry, Kurt Vonnegut. I couldn’t resist.)
Lastly, what struck me most about the terrible tragedies in the Texas Hill Country was not just the dreadful loss of lives and of those still missing, but how people came together to do what they could to help in so many varied ways too numerous to count. I don’t think anyone asked about political affiliations, how they had voted in 2024, whether they were Republican, Democrat, MAGA, or any other persuasion of whatever kind. People from across the border, trained firefighters as well as volunteers, helped as well.
There was one goal that all of the people had in this tragedy and that was to help in whatever ways possible. There were no litmus or loyalty tests, just neighbors, friends, and strangers who saw the incredible need and pitched in. Is there a lesson in this for all of us?
Jill Switzer has been an active member of the State Bar of California for over 40 years. She remembers practicing law in a kinder, gentler time. She’s had a diverse legal career, including stints as a deputy district attorney, a solo practice, and several senior in-house gigs. She now mediates full-time, which gives her the opportunity to see dinosaurs, millennials, and those in-between interact — it’s not always civil. You can reach her by email at oldladylawyer@gmail.com.
The post The Bar Exam, The Biter, And Borderless Acts Of Kindness appeared first on Above the Law.