what i did: outlining

Denise posted recently about how she was having trouble with outlining, so I decided to make outlining the second entry in my ‘what I did’ series rather than posting more about NYC. The first entry, on notetaking, is here.

1. Outlining was key for me, but I learn by writing and rewriting in my own words, not as much by aural or visual means. This meant that formal discussion groups and study groups were not very good for me (though I did a lot of informal discussion that was helpful). Making flow charts and using colored graphs or pens was also not useful for me. To learn it, I had to write it. I know for a fact that it is possible to have a good 1L year with short (or no) outlines, flow charts, color graphs, weekly study groups, etc. Outlining doesn't work for everybody.

2. I started my outlines about halfway into the semester and worked on them steadily until finals. I usually finished my outlines 24 to 48 hours before the exams, but there were two I barely finished before the exam (night before) and one I finished three full days early. I did not wait until my outlines were done to do practice exams. Often I modified my outline after taking a practice exam.

3. First semester, I started one outline, Civ Pro, too early. I found myself playing catch-up at the end of the semester when I had to rework entire sections. I didn’t have a good grasp of the material yet and my outline was less about legal concepts and more about short case briefs. Not coincidentally, my first semester Civ Pro grade was my lowest of the year.

4. The hardest part in starting the outline for me was organizing it. I found that the first half of the outline took more than twice as long as the second half. It took me a very long time to figure out how to organize my outlines in general. Due to this factor, my first semester outlines were more work than my second semester outlines, even though my second semester outlines were longer.

5. I found looking at other students’ outlines from prior years (but with the same professor) useful as a starting point for figuring out how to organize the outline.

6. I used outlines from prior years as a secondary reference if I didn't understand the textbook or my notes. I found the outlines considerably more useful than study guides like Glannon's or Gilbert's. My school maintains a bank of student outlines from prior years, so I had a prior year outline for almost every one of my classes.

7. If my notes or reading disagreed with a student outline, I used a formal study guide as a backup reference. However, by the time I got to this point I usually had to go to office hours anyhow. I found study guides like Gilbert's and Glannon's to be of limited use. The one exception was Torts, because in that class Emmanuel’s was keyed to my casebook. I found the case summaries in Emmanuel’s helpful because my Torts class covered many cases and I stopped briefing Torts cases early on in second semester.

8. I used MS Word (sigh. dang monopolies.) on my Mac. If I got stuck on something, I highlighted that section using MS Word's highlight function, brought my laptop to my professor's office hours, and clarified the issue in office hours. After office hours I reworked that section.

9. I only went to office hours if I had questions on my outline. I didn't find office hours too useful otherwise because without having outlined a subject, I couldn't ask useful questions about it. (The one exception to this was that once I started doing practice exams, most of my professors were very accommodating and freely went over my answers with me, which was invaluable feedback.)
 
10. I know some outlines are strictly organized by rule, subrule, etc. I didn’t really do that. I instead made a list of points (and related subpoints) based on class notes and the notes following the cases. I did include rules, but mostly what I did was group information that I thought was important for each topic.

11. My longest outline was about 90 pages, and my shortest was about 35. I’m wordy. Also, my outlines represented the majority of my work in each class since I didn't spend time in study groups or discussion groups.

12. I'm generally a solo studier, and wrote my outlines on my own. However, my classmates and I sometimes emailed each other sections of our outlines for review or to help clarify something. This was useful, because sometimes my friends would spot errors or point out something that I had missed.

13. My professors tended to rely heavily on the notes following the cases in the casebook. Therefore I included that information in my outlines. If a professor referred in class to a particular note (which I would know from my class notes or, if there was a direct quote, from my highlights in my book), then it definitely made it into the outline. The rest of them made it in if I thought they were interesting and/or important.

14. As I wrote my outline, I frequently reread what I'd already written, but I tried not to rework anything unless it was clear that I had misunderstood a section.

15. It took me a long time to figure some of these things out. I don't think I really hit the outlining groove until second semester, though I liked my first semester outlines (except for Civ Pro).

Postscript: I was thinking about posting a short segment from one of my second semester outlines along with embedded comments about the structure (such as why I included this or that). Would that be helpful?

that was then

Hard drives and other things were different in the 1960s. Really.

things I wonder about

Today I stood in front of a group to talk. At the same time, TJ (transmogriflaw junior, of course) decided to put in his two cents. He's now big enough that his kicks are visible through my clothes.

I wonder if anybody stopped listening to what I was saying and thought about Alien. I wonder if bored jurors watch the bellies of pregnant lawyers, looking for some sign of life in the courtroom. I wonder if anybody notices at all.

improving the tour

The other day at a summer associate lunch, I mentioned I'd been recording the Tour. It's my annual foray into OLN television, otherwise known as the home of Rut & Strut. (I'm serious. It's a hunting show.)

The other summer associates, all men, regarded me blankly.

"Um. I'm a huge sports fan," said P. tenatively, "but isn't that just a bunch of guys bicyling for hours? How do you watch it? Isn't it boring?"

I tried to explain. "It's complex. It's the balance between a team and a single individual. It's exciting."

The others remained politely dubious.

I explained how I liked the announcers, laconic British bicycling fans. "Of course, when there is a crash, or when there is a fierce competition for a stage win, they go nuts."

P. perked up. "There are crashes?"

"Oh yes," I said, "the Tour is dangerous." I explained how nerve-wracking it was watching the riders fight through the crowd during the Alpe d'Huez time trial.

R. was interested. "You mean the spectators attack the riders?"

"Yes, it's happened. Sometimes it's an accident, sometimes not."

P. and R. grinned. "Well, why didn't you say so?" P. asked. "I'd totally watch that."

"Yeah," R. chimed in. "Especially if they could arm the riders against the spectators. That would be so cool. The total annihilation stage win!"

"Yeah!" P. emphatically agreed. "That would be so much better!"

the olympics are coming

Time for some beautiful international incidents.

the big apple

My firm flew the summer associates to New York City headquarters for a litigation seminar and various work and social events.

I didn't think I'd be able to go at first, because when I first inquired about flying, the doctor I talked with was not enthusiastic.  "It will be really uncomfortable," she said, "and will depend on how you are doing at that point." This wasn't my normal doctor, but I went back home and scared myself silly with Internet research about cosmic rays, pregnancy, and flying. I was, however, loathe to miss an opportunity to see firm headquarters and, more importantly, meet the partners and associates there.

A few weeks later, I saw my regular doctor. By then I'd finished all the routine pregnancy tests, passing all with flying colors. "You have a normal pregnancy," she said, and my husband and I were thrilled to be boring. My doctor was far more relaxed about the entire prospect of flying, though she confirmed the "really uncomfortable" bit. She, however, was unconcerned about cosmic rays or early labor. "Don't get on the plane if you're in labor," she shrugged. "That's the basic rule."

"But how will I know?"

"You'll know. Besides which, it's your first baby. Even if you start labor on the plane, you won't give birth before it lands." Yikes.

I took the plunge and flew to New York on Friday. My doctors were both right.  Flying while seven months pregnant is very uncomfortable. The lack of legroom in steerage class seating is even more noticable when there is a big belly that has to fit there too. Thankfully, my husband was there to help, and flights, like labor itself, do eventually end.

My husband and I spent the weekend being tourists in New York. We walked for miles in the hot, humid weather, meandering through Central Park, Greenwich Village, Times Square (a.k.a. Disney York), and the waterfront.

We started off on Saturday morning at the New York Public Library, mecca for bibliophiles. Just being in the reading room alone made us happy. On top of that, we saw the Gutenberg Bible and a copy of the Declaration of Independence that was hand-copied and signed by Thomas Jefferson.

I am pleased to report that no less a writer than Thomas Jefferson has problems with his contractions. His handwriting was neat and easy to read, making the following fragment jump out immediately: laying it's foundation on such principles, & organizing it's powers in such form.

Editors always have the last word. The final version fixed the contraction: its foundation, and its powers. They also removed an entire anti-slavery paragraph that Jefferson included in his original draft.

[more later]

da firm

Life at the law firm continues apace. It's very different from the judiciary. I like it quite a bit.

I am acutely aware of how little I know about law after one year of law school. I'm in my firm's IP litigation group. I've never had IP law before, but I've probably learned half a semester's worth of IP law in the past few days. I hope to attain some degree of usefulness by the time I stop working for the summer, but for now I feel sloooooooow.

This firm is large, and has summer associates in most offices, which makes for a lot of summer associates. Almost all of them are 2Ls, but there are a few other 1Ls here and there. I do feel like the 2Ls know more than I do, which bodes well as far as the usefulness of law school, but I don't think any of us are crack legal aces. Of course, if we were, we would probably be years out of law school by now. At most, we're aspiring aces now.

the next battle

JCA writes passionately about something I think about a lot these days: motherhood and career.

Halfway through last semester, my employment discrimination professor brought in a guest professor to speak to us about gender discrimination in the workplace. At the time I was almost three months pregnant and trying to adjust to pregnancy and the rather enthusiastic hormonal mix that had taken hold of my emotions.

The guest professor, who specializes in gender discrimination, spoke about stereotype studies and women in the workplace. The professor described studies in which participants were asked to rate the intelligence of various fictional characters in an effort to determine the pervasiveness of gender stereotypes. The good news reflects JCA's experience: the fictional professional woman with no children had a perceived intelligence and capacity almost equal to that of the fictional professional man. (No study showed the man and woman exactly equal, but they were extremely close.)

However, once the woman was turned into a mother – but her described characteristics did not otherwise change – her perceived intelligence dropped precipitously. In one entirely depressing study, the fictional woman with children was slotted into the same intelligence stereotype category as the the physically handicapped, the blind, and the very old, groups that themselves suffer from horrendously bad publicity as far as perceived capacity. There was only one poor group that consistently rated lower in perceived intelligence: stay-at-home mothers.

I almost started crying in class.

There is so much to love right now. I love being pregnant, watching my body change, my husband's transformation into a father. I love this new little person kicking around inside me ferociously.

But I hate the stifling societal straitjackets that come with parenthood. I hate that no matter what choices my husband and I make, a large segment of society will continually question those choices. I hate the fact that I even have to worry about this, that these outdated stereotypes will affect my life, my husband's life, and my son's life.

On the other hand, the best choices I've made in my life have always been those made in contravention to popular and uncreative wisdom. I didn't cry that day, and since that class, I've come to secretly relish the people who sniff mournfully and disapprovingly, "I would never do that!" I respond politely, but I think, "I'm sure you wouldn't." And I smile.

eat your veggies

My husband and I went out to Chinese food with a friend of ours last night. I suggested a cabbage dish.

"Oh no," he said, "I can't eat cabbage. I have cabbage trauma."

My husband and I tenatively asked whether this could be shared, never having heard of cabbage trauma, or, for that matter, any sort of cruciferous angst.

"Yes," he replied gravely, "I can share. When I was little, my mother used to tell me stories about a friendly cabbage who had vegetable adventures. He had little cabbage shoes, and a little cabbage hat. He was a happy cabbage."

D. was silent for a moment, savoring the memory.

"My mother was dating somebody at the time who was familiar with the cabbage. One day they got in a huge fight, though I didn't know that. What I did know was that night her boyfriend told me the evening cabbage story."

He dropped his voice to a whisper. "That night, the story ended in coleslaw."

so. tired.

Last year, my last day at my software engineering job was June 30. I started working at the law firm Tuesday, making it almost exactly a year since I was last paid for work.

Tuesday also marked the longest time I've gone without a job since I was 15. This means I've experienced the First Week of Work many times, for many different employers. It's not a new experience, the forms, the passport-handing-over, the direct deposit ritual, the orientations, the introductions. Sometimes it's rather casual, sometimes it's quite formal, but the basic elements are more or less the same every time.

Including the tiredness. Every time I start a job, the first week knocks me off my feet. I drag myself home at the end and collapse onto the sofa. Whether I like the job or not doesn't seem to matter. I've never had a job where it didn't happen.

I am now curled up on the sofa, laptop balanced precariously on my belly, happy to be home. I had a good first week, and I like the people I work with, but boy am I glad it's Friday.

part II begins

I finished my first day of work as a summer associate today. My brain is tired but happy; there was so much to take in.

I think between the judiciary and the law firm, that I'll easily learn as much this summer as I did during the school year.

[Update: Biting Tongue says it better than me. I wholeheartedly agree. This 2/3 school, 1/3 working schedule is wonderful. I suspect I'll really miss it when I start full time work in a few years.]

what i did: notetaking

1. I attended almost every single class. In my second semester, I missed one because of a traffic problem, one because of a doctor's appointment, and two because I was sick. I didn't miss any first semester. Caveat: I liked attending class, so this wasn't a burden.

2. I took notes on my laptop. Caveat: I can't handwrite at all and find it very distracting when I have to do so. I learned a lot less in class the two days I had to handwrite notes because I forgot my power cable.

3. I created a new file for each day and each class. For example, notes_torts_020404.doc, notes_civpro_041604.doc.

4. I am ashamed to admit this, but I used MS Word and (gasp!) it worked well. At least it was on a Mac.

5. I printed out all my notes every few weeks or so and put them in a binder. I had one binder for each class. I used this binder when outlining.

6. I wrote down much of what the professor said, organizing it in my head as I went. Caveat: This only worked for me because I am a fast typist, so I could organize and still write down most of what the professor said at the same time.

7. I wrote down the Socratic questions the professors asked other students.

8. I almost never wrote down anything that a fellow student said, unless the professor explicitly endorsed it as correct or asked the student to repeat what he had said for the benefit of the class. If I did write down something from a fellow student because I liked it, I usually wrote it in my notes that it came from a student.

9. If a professor repeated a statement a few times, I always wrote it down, sometimes underlining it.

10. I always brought my casebooks to class. If the professor quoted directly from a case or essay, I highlighted those lines in my casebook. I did not otherwise mark in my books at all. I found this useful when studying for exams as I had a visual record of what the professor considered important enough to quote aloud. Caveat: I hate looking at books with highlights and pencil marks.

11. I briefed all the cases first semester, and about 25% of the cases second semester. Second semester my professors weren't as Socratic, so briefing was less important, and I was also able to read more effectively by then. I'll write more on briefing later, but in terms of notetaking, I didn't take class notes on the case in my brief. I found switching back and forth between my notes and my brief too distracting. I did leave my brief open for reference in case I was called on, but all class notes were in one place, the file I mentioned above.

12. When we started talking about a specific case, I wrote the case name in italic and bold and then continued taking notes beneath that heading.

13. As time went on, I was better at sorting out what the professor considered important. Early on my notes were very long, but later they were shorter because I could figure out sooner what the professor considered important. I probably averaged about three to four typed pages per fifty-minute class, single spaced but with lots of new paragraphs and whitespace because I don't like looking at cluttered pages.

14. My section was a friendly section, and we shared notes freely with each other. I gave mine away regularly, and on the times I missed class, I usually received at least two copies of other people's notes. If I felt that I missed something in class, I asked my friends for their notes on that topic, printed those out, and put them in my binder next to my own notes. I found the notes from my fellow students very useful. I've heard of people hoarding their notes, but I didn't see it happen in my section, and sharing notes made life a lot easier for everybody.

15. I didn't try to study too much in class, reserving studying for later. I used class time primarily to clarify concepts and to discover what the professor thought was important. Getting the law into my head, into my own words, and really understanding it was something I had to do on my own. Caveat: I learn by writing in my own words by myself. People who learn by more aural means and group means probably learned more new concepts in class than I did.

I think that's all for notetaking. I'll update this later if I think of something else.

[Update: It occurred to me when I reread this that you might think I started out doing all this from the beginning and that I was some scary über-efficient beginning 1L. I didn't and I wasn't. This is what I ended up doing, what eventually worked for me, but it took me a while to find the pattern that worked. I don't really feel qualified to give advice, but I wouldn't worry about it if it takes you awhile to figure out your pattern too.]

what i did

I've had a few requests for tips and hints for getting through 1L year. I started a big long post about it a few times, but it never really came out well. I had a hard time separating what I consider a valuable tip and what nobody else other than me would find useful. The entry became too unwieldly. It's hard to give generalized advice that would be useful on something as personal as law school.

I've decided to take another approach. I am going to write a series of short entries that describe what I did in a certain area, such as notetaking, or outlining, etc.  I think I may just state what I did in list form. It won't be fancy.

Before I started law school, I soaked up advice from books, bloggers, current students, former students, our academic support program, and basically any person with a word of advice to say about law school. I didn't use most of it. That's why I am going to list out what I did. You can pick and choose what will help you.

I suggest reading Heidi Bond's series on what she did (most recent entry here). One, because it's well-written and has good insight into the entire process, but two, because if you read both of our 'what I did' descriptions, you can see how they vary. Some of what Heidi did wouldn't have worked for me, and vice versa. I point to Heidi because she, like me, had a blast her first year in law school, got what she wanted out of it, and was generally quite happy with the entire thing. We reached the same end, but sometimes through different means.

For the rest of who you aren't interested in this, all entries along these lines will have 'what i did:' in the title so you can ignore them.

body chemistry

One of the nifty side effects of my pregnancy has been the Technicolor dreams. I have astonishingly vivid dreams, dreams set against Kubla Khan landscapes and described by fragmented echoes of Ginsbergian dialogue.

I have stood at the top of vast undulating prairie hills that stretch away to a crystalline ocean below. Ice cold winds have blown against my face. I have felt the thunder of a wild herd of Appaloosas roar through me. I have swooped over silent forests and down into Alpine valleys. Last night I dove, deep, deep, streaking down into cold blue water, accompanied by bejeweled, unblinking fish.

LSD has nothing on my own hormones. I should bottle this stuff and sell it at Grateful Dead concerts.

end of part I

Yesterday was my last day in the judiciary. On Tuesday I start work as a summer associate.

I think I can safely recommend that law students jump at any opportunity they get to work in the judiciary. I don't think it matters if you do federal or state, appellate work or trial court work. Learning how the judiciary really works, at any level, is tremendously helpful.

My work was in the state appellate court, so I learned how appellate opinions are drafted and the interplay between the trial court, the appellate court, and the high court. Seeing the process that generates the opinions in our casebooks was fascinating.

I spent all of my time working on criminal cases, which will be a nice contrast to the civil work I'll spend the rest of the summer with. I now have even more admiration for the work that public defenders do and the work that criminal prosecutors do. I'm not sure it's something I could do full time. I found criminal law could be very emotionally draining at times. I spent one day examining a group of cases for a specific procedural issue that I was researching.  The cases were about 80% child molestation cases and they included graphic and horrific descriptions of what the poor kids suffered. I had nightmares about it that night, the crimes bringing out the raging mama tiger in me. I think I'd find it very difficult to work on case law like that all the time.