I have been thinking a lot about risk and failure lately.
And fragility.
I have a history of fragility.
Law school.
I did well in all of my courses, but for the first time in my educational career, I was faced with the realization that there were certain things at which I was just not going to excel.
I realized early on that I was not destined to be a litigator, and that no amount of practice would give me what I saw in the faces of some of my classmates . . .
Absolute personal confidence.
So that was annoying, as I had arrived at law school intending to blow everyone out of the water with my awesomeness.
Turned out that even in the relatively small pond of U.C. Davis Law School, there were bigger fish than I.
That wasn’t a bad thing, but it was eye-opening.
So I looked for the places in which I could excel.
Contract Law was a six-unit course that ran for the entire first year . . . three units per semester. I loved that course. I kicked ass in that course. I kicked serious ass.
The professor (whose name I of course remember, but which I will not share here) was an amazing lecturer. I enjoyed every moment of every class. I studied for that course differently than I studied for my other courses . . . the material was a serious joy to me. I participated in that course much more than I did in my other courses, and the professor always knew he could count on me to have an opinion.
I’m sure I annoyed the crap out of the other students in the class.
The professor would often talk of a favorite student of his from the year before. He would bring the student up in lectures. He would illustrate points from the readings with stories from this student’s life. He would share anecdotes of how awesome this student had been . . . of how this student had been able to effortlessly balance school and family and friends and hobbies.
Honestly, I got a little tired of hearing about how awesome this guy had been.
In law school, there is an award called the American Jurisprudence Award, bestowed upon the student who earns the highest grade in a first-year course.
A person who earns this award is said to have Am-Jur’ed the course.
This awesome ex-student had, of course, Am-Jur’ed Contracts.
I set out to do the same.
I did it.
People? This was a HUGE fucking deal. This grade would place me high in the top 10% of my first-year class.
The job market for lawyers was tight at the time, and it was well known that only the top 10% of the class would have employers pursuing them.
For those of you who don’t know, interviews for second-summer jobs are done during the first half of the second year of law school. Which means that all of the interviews are done based on that first year’s grades. Many law firms simply refuse to see anyone who has not made that top 10% cut-off.
Those second-summer jobs often turn to full-time offers if you don’t fuck up.
So I was going to be all set.
It was going to be awesome.
But here’s what happened instead . . .
My Contracts professor gave me an A-.
I had Am-Jur-ed the class with an A-.
Which made no sense at all, because the course was graded on a curve. If I had the highest grade in the class, I had the highest point on that curve. That was an A.
So I went to the professor to discuss this obvious error.
He informed me that I had not impressed him as much as the student who had Am-Jur’ed the course the year before. I was not of the same caliber as that student, and he could not see his way clear to giving me an A.
He had, in effect, brought his ex-student back into the grading curve. Not only had he brought him back into the grading curve, but he had decided that this ex-student was so superior to me that I got demoted to an A-. So I got an A- in a six-unit course in which I deserved an A.
In case the implications aren’t immediately clear?
That took me out of the top 10% of the class.
I was devastated.
I complained, but no one listened.
People got pissed at me for complaining . . . it was an A- . . . not the end of the world.
Yes, but . . . .
Sigh.
When interview season came around? Very few law firms agreed to speak with me.
In every interview I scheduled, without exception, this moment arrived . . .
“I see here on your transcript that you Am-Jur’ed Contracts with an A-. What happened there?”
There was no good explanation. That was not supposed to be how the system worked. What was supposed to be an honor turned into a black mark. Every time, that Am Jur honor on my transcript caught people’s eyes. Every time, they tried to make sense of the grade I had received.
One interviewer hinted that I had somehow deeply offended the professor to have caused such hostile retaliation.
Several interviewers suggested that if I was such a lame advocate for myself in this situation? I would be equally inept at advocating for others.
Good times.
There’s a concept in law called the “Fragile Egg Theory.”
The idea is that people exist with certain pre-existing vulnerabilities. If one does harm to someone with pre-existing vulnerabilities, the harm may be greater than might be normally expected.
Sigh.
I started to crack.
And eventually . . . I broke.
So that was awesome.
What the hell?!? Did this guy have an unfulfilled crush on his old student? Good lord.
Mr. Holland’s Opus. Eek.
Jaci -
Eek!
Love that.
Yeah, he sucked.
But the most emotional part of this post for me is that last part.
The breaking.
That was a very hard part of my life.
That prof was a douche.
Vanessa -
Yes, he was.
But there are a lot of douches in the world.
I hate that I have proven to be vulnerable to their words and their actions.
Hate that more than I can say.
Oh Kris! Well, not totally the same, but I was in a job that was so not me and I was miserable…only I thought this job should be me…or I should be this job. It was an abusive relationship of sorts. So I finally mustered up the courage and quit. When I gave my notice, they fired me. Who does that? I was devastated…for a long time. You see yourself as something and when that does not turn out the way you had planned…devastation. However, I think you are fabulous! Broken or not.
Maggie -
Thanks, babe.
This post resonates for me because of my fear that I am still this fragile.
Sigh.
I don’t want to break again.
Ack.
I always think admitting fragility is couragous.
Courage isn’t avoiding the break. Courage is living a full life in spite of the break.
You are couragous.
Thanks, you.
I wish I felt and sensed that strength more often.
Thank you.
Something is wrong with thatkind of grading. Very wrong.
And then, the system of hiring seems to be flawed also.
Renee -
The whole system is flawed . . . agreed.
But when you are in it, you have to play by the rules.
And the rules seem awesome as long as they are working in your favor.
I know, right?
So it is hard to get the rules changed, because the only ones complaining are the ones who failed to make the rules work for them.
A vicious circle.
You should sue him, everyone does that these days.
I think that is bullshit and I would go back to the school tomorrow and demand that your record is changed to reflect the grade you deserved.
Also, I would go and take a shit on the professors door after the grade is changed.
Snort!
Thank you.
That time in my life is long past, and that grade (even if it was to be changed) means nothing.
What matters to me is how deeply I was hurt.
And how long that hurt lasted.
And how afraid I am of being hurt again.
Annoying.
That prof sucked donkey balls. Seriously. I had an education prof who hated me because I was smarter than she was. That’s totally what happened to you too. You were just smarter than he was.
As much as I know you now, I have trouble seeing you as a lawyer. To me you’re
Kris, writer and funny person extraordinaire. Weird, I know.
Amy -
Hee hee! I was so not smarter than my professor, but I do like your take on the story. Thank you.
And I have not shared that much of my time in law school or the years right after law school. No surprise you don’t see me as an attorney. You see me here.
That’s not weird.
That’s just lovely.
Thank you.
Kris
I think you should go with my version when re-telling it to people. Say you were smarter. It works for me! ;o)
While it’s sad that you had to break to get to where you are now, I think I like the person you are now bestest.
You know the hardest part about breaking? Those cracks never seem to totally go away. I always worry that they will somehow re-open…
That last thing you said?
Yes.
Exactly.
You know the good news though? Those we love usually have the glue to fix those cracks when we don’t know how to fix them ourselves.
Love you.
One time I broke a decorative plate that was passed along to me from my grandmother.
“No problem, ” said Mark, “I can fix that.”
Glue, glue, glue, glue.
And then we threw the plate in the garbage.
Just saying.
This was so wrong.
It did kind of suck.
It really did.
Also, if it’s Professor Joo, then I would kick him in the nuts.
Silly you.
I do not even know a Professor Joo.
Well, he was the only one listed on the UC Davis site that teaches that course. But I guess that dude must be retired.
I have not followed my professor’s movements, so I have no idea what he’s up to now.
And if someone were to name him in these comments, I would probably delete his name.
Calling him out is not my intention.
The story is about me.
How is it possible that he could base the curve off of someone who he had the year before?
Could it have had anything to do with you being a woman?
Stasha -
Nah . . . nothing to do with me not being a woman.
Everything to do with me not being that other student.
It was very strange.
Okay I know this is serious but…
‘Nothing to do with me not being a woman?’
*giggles*
I adore you, questionable woman.
Bwahahaha!
So much giggling!
I re-phrased my sentence in the middle of typing and fucked up.
Or did I?
Hee hee!
Yo Ted,
You made me recall an English graduate assistant I had at OU. As you know, GA’s are only teaching because they have to on their way to a PhD. Normally, they suck. And they loathe undergraduates.
So this teacher strolls in, all Prada-like – the hair, the scarf, the underbite. And I’m thinking, hellooooooooo teacher. Woo-hoo mama.
Actually, not so much. As time went on, her comments on my papers included “you cannot write” and “this makes me wretch”.
Well all-righty then.
So, here’s the plan. I am all Catholic, so I have to forgive this cow. But since the Navy SEALs are free at the moment, what if we ask them to pay a visit to our respective ex-profs?
Then we can be all forgiving as the smoke settles.
See how much better I got during Lent?
Bill
Lent was all curative and calming for you!
And honestly?
I am more forgiving of this professor than I am of myself.
Because I am just that dysfunctional.
I AM AWESOME!
Sigh.
That totally sucks.
But maybe it was a good thing too.
I can’t imagine you as you if you had been able to take that road back then.
Haven -
Yes, I have said before that I do not regret what has gone before.
That I would not change anything about my past.
That’s still true.
I just wish sometimes that my past didn’t seem to have such a hold on my present.
And my future.
Anyway.
Thanks, lovely you.
Me
I have this really intense fear of trying things I have never done before.
It affects pretty much everything in my life.
The worst though is my job.
I LOVE my job. I have wanted this job since I was a freshmen in high school. It’s seriously perfect.
But my bosses are always asking me to try new things and figure things out on my own.
And I get so scared to try to do those things that I am not already good at.
So I do just enough to get by and so I won’t get fired.
But that is SO not me. I mean it is, obviously. But it also isn’t.
I WANT to impress them so bad. I am an over-achiever at heart.
But I’m so scared that my best won’t be good enough.
And that will hurt more than I can take.
It doesn’t help that my boss is a complete genius. He’s a child prodigy as far as what we do. And I can remember every single mistake I’ve made that he has pointed out.
And he was not always nice about doing it.
And it crushed the hell out of me.
So now I basically do not even try. Because at least if I’m not trying it doesn’t hurt as much when it’s pointed out to me exactly how suck-ish I am at this thing that I totally love doing.
It’s been 4 years.
I am not sure how much longer I will keep this job.
I love it so much. It is my dream job.
But unfortunately my fear that I am not actually that good at it and the pain of having that pointed out…
Will most likely cause me to give it up for something that I hate but can do well.
I run away before I can be broken.
It’s kind of a sad way to live.
I hope one day I will change.
That’s what this reminded me of.
Haven -
With some quick math (because I am a genius with numbers), I have discovered that whatever this dream job of yours is? You have been doing it since you were 18. Which means that you must be very good at it, indeed.
You know you are a brilliant woman, Haven.
It sounds like you work for a genius.
Weird thing about geniuses? Child prodigies? They sometimes lack people skills . . . a fact I am sure you have considered in your 4 years with this man.
If you are really where you want to be?
Then be the woman you want to be in that place.
I am really good at advising others.
I am a genius that way.
Hush.
Me
Apparently I know how it feels to get stuck.
I feel for you Kris.
This man is a serious Asshat (Please pause to picture).
I of course think you are worthy of the highest of praises.
You are awesome!
So Fuck’em! (but not in the literal sense of course)
Me
Russell -
This post is not really about that man all those years ago.
Just so you know.
This post is about me in the present.
Thanks, you.
Me
I did get that ya know. Also I remember having a conversation about being stuck with someone earlier today.
I still feel contempt for a shaper of minds who would do this.
But I know this is about you. I know how it feels to crack.
I heart you lady!
OK, good.
I don’t want people to think that the moment in which I am stuck is a moment that happened many years ago.
The moment in which I am stuck is right here and now.
Sigh.
I know how that sucks.
I hope you unstick yourself.
Me too.
Kris,
Actually, it WAS a great thing for you and humanity.
Imagine what would have happened if you had gone into hotshot law.
And worked in the same firm as Denny Crane.
You and Denny, late at night, in close quarters. With a chick dwarf
litigator by your side.
What ensued could have knocked the planet off its axis.
Bill
You are the silliest man I know.
And I so thought you were going to cast me in the role of chick-dwarf litigator just to annoy me.
Hee hee!
Kris,
No, this was your one chance to be the TALL chick.
You’re welcome.
Denny Crane
You make me laugh.
I love that.
Thank you.
Hmm. I have a similar story…kinda.
Through most of my school years, I was very shy. I did not have many friends…at all…in any way. I did not enjoy anything in school, except marching band. Which is not something I would openly admit…except it’s important to the story.
My junior year, I somehow decided that I wanted to try out for drum major (one of the two people who lead the marching band…for those who don’t know). They needed 2 & I was definitely the 2nd best. But I did not get it. The band director gave it to his pet whose parents had contributed a bunch of money & a big podium thing to the band.
My ability was irrelevant. The fact that the opportunity to lead would have given me confidence I really needed was nothing. It was about politics. I was really devastated. And? I lost my joy in the only thing I had liked about high school. And I still had a year & a half to go.
I know just where you’re coming from. 17 years later I’m still agitated by this incident. And that really annoys me. :|
Also? The pet he chose over me? Sucked. Ass. And everybody knew it. Didn’t make me feel any better tho. Just made me madder that I could’ve done it right & I was stuck with an ass sucker because of stupid politics. *sigh*
The power that teachers have over their students is just astounding.
The way that mistreatment resonates . . . for years and years.
That just kills me.
Your agitation 17 years later?
I so get that.
Exactly.