Splitting out into a separate post my thoughts on your advice:
Re: graduation, the part that seems unaddressed in both the "conventional wisdom" and your own take is the writer's sense of alienation from the institution s/he's graduating from. Granted, it's not unusual to have some accumulated frustrations with one's school by the time it's over, it's not clear where the writer falls on the spectrum from annoyance to principled rejection, and the answers might still be "suck it up" (CW) or "talk to your mom" (DL) regardless. But you do seem to treat the writer's situation as just the usual case of aesthetic distaste/indifference to the ritual of graduation versus going through the motions for form's and family's sake.
If the writer is saying, "graduation is tedious, and especially tedious given that I don't even really *like* my school," then your advice is perfectly on-point. But if what the writer is balking at is taking part in a celebration of the school's own conception of its purpose and virtues that s/he's come to regard as a farce or a sham or even a fraud, that raises a different set of issues IMO.
Again, these are all matters of degree. But insofar as what the writer is complaining about is the dominance of the institutional culture by the loudest, most extreme voices, I think maybe the tiebreaker should go to bowing out of graduation and quietly telling friends and others why you're doing so. Often a vocal minority is able to wield disproportionate power simply because many of the people who disapprove never realize that their neighbors feel the same way. Skipping graduation isn't exactly an "I am Spartacus" moment, nor should it be, but it's a small expressive signal just like showing up in your regalia is, and it's worth thinking about how best to use it.
That's a great quote from Lisa Blatt. Totally agree. As someone who also now and again gets accused of being "passionate," I feel like that just misses the point of what lawyering is about. An attorney's job is ultimately to sustain a kind of double emotional detachment. Detachment from one's own choice of ends, so as to commit oneself fully to those chosen by the client; and detachment from the client's choice of means, so as to offer a candid, unbiased assessment of their legal implications.
I guess it's all well and good if passion works its way in there somewhere, but I'm with Lisa that on its face it sounds more like a bug than a feature.
When people considering law school approach me with some reservations, I usually encourage them to consider thinking of it as a series of one-year investments rather than a three-year commitment. If they can afford going through 1L year, whether because they have the means or get a scholarship that makes it affordable, then I usually recommend that they give it a go. Best case, they love it and it is the start of a wonderful legal career. Worst case, they get a very healthy dose of conceptual legal training that should stand them in good stead in their other endeavors. The problem many have is we often condition young people to see the virtue in sticking things through, while ignoring opportunity costs. The one-year commitment framing is much more realistic in my view, as well as more likely to result in a better decision for the undecided.
When it comes to thinking about law school, it's really important to look beyond just the money. Sure, it's a factor for some/many, but what really matters is whether it aligns to some degree with his/her passions and interest. Even before going to law school, I found law to be intellectually interesting, enjoyed the short time that I practiced and made life long friends. For me, my parents always told us to do what we love, even if it doesn't pay the most. I have lawyer friends who absolutely love what they do, and they're not all raking in the big money either.
So, if this person is thinking about law school, it might be a good idea for him/her to chat with some practicing lawyers. Get a feel for what their day-to-day is like, what they love about it, and what they don't. These conversations can really help him/her decide if it's the right path.
Splitting out into a separate post my thoughts on your advice:
Re: graduation, the part that seems unaddressed in both the "conventional wisdom" and your own take is the writer's sense of alienation from the institution s/he's graduating from. Granted, it's not unusual to have some accumulated frustrations with one's school by the time it's over, it's not clear where the writer falls on the spectrum from annoyance to principled rejection, and the answers might still be "suck it up" (CW) or "talk to your mom" (DL) regardless. But you do seem to treat the writer's situation as just the usual case of aesthetic distaste/indifference to the ritual of graduation versus going through the motions for form's and family's sake.
If the writer is saying, "graduation is tedious, and especially tedious given that I don't even really *like* my school," then your advice is perfectly on-point. But if what the writer is balking at is taking part in a celebration of the school's own conception of its purpose and virtues that s/he's come to regard as a farce or a sham or even a fraud, that raises a different set of issues IMO.
Again, these are all matters of degree. But insofar as what the writer is complaining about is the dominance of the institutional culture by the loudest, most extreme voices, I think maybe the tiebreaker should go to bowing out of graduation and quietly telling friends and others why you're doing so. Often a vocal minority is able to wield disproportionate power simply because many of the people who disapprove never realize that their neighbors feel the same way. Skipping graduation isn't exactly an "I am Spartacus" moment, nor should it be, but it's a small expressive signal just like showing up in your regalia is, and it's worth thinking about how best to use it.
That's a great quote from Lisa Blatt. Totally agree. As someone who also now and again gets accused of being "passionate," I feel like that just misses the point of what lawyering is about. An attorney's job is ultimately to sustain a kind of double emotional detachment. Detachment from one's own choice of ends, so as to commit oneself fully to those chosen by the client; and detachment from the client's choice of means, so as to offer a candid, unbiased assessment of their legal implications.
I guess it's all well and good if passion works its way in there somewhere, but I'm with Lisa that on its face it sounds more like a bug than a feature.
When people considering law school approach me with some reservations, I usually encourage them to consider thinking of it as a series of one-year investments rather than a three-year commitment. If they can afford going through 1L year, whether because they have the means or get a scholarship that makes it affordable, then I usually recommend that they give it a go. Best case, they love it and it is the start of a wonderful legal career. Worst case, they get a very healthy dose of conceptual legal training that should stand them in good stead in their other endeavors. The problem many have is we often condition young people to see the virtue in sticking things through, while ignoring opportunity costs. The one-year commitment framing is much more realistic in my view, as well as more likely to result in a better decision for the undecided.
When it comes to thinking about law school, it's really important to look beyond just the money. Sure, it's a factor for some/many, but what really matters is whether it aligns to some degree with his/her passions and interest. Even before going to law school, I found law to be intellectually interesting, enjoyed the short time that I practiced and made life long friends. For me, my parents always told us to do what we love, even if it doesn't pay the most. I have lawyer friends who absolutely love what they do, and they're not all raking in the big money either.
So, if this person is thinking about law school, it might be a good idea for him/her to chat with some practicing lawyers. Get a feel for what their day-to-day is like, what they love about it, and what they don't. These conversations can really help him/her decide if it's the right path.