[As some of you may know, I became a lawyer in my mid-fifties.  The process of becoming one has therefore probably remained clearer in my memory than it might have been if I had done it in my twenties. I’ve even occasionally blogged about certain aspects of law school that seemed to me to remain relevant to life outside the law.  This piece, and the one to follow, appeared in “The Getting Old Blog” about four years ago. But who digs back in the archives that far? So here they are again, in slightly different form — because they’re still useful to me, even now that I’ve embarked “On Being Old.” This lesson is instructive.  The next one will be illustrative.]



In England I believe it’s known as “reading law.” That makes it sound very grand, although I understand you can get right to it after finishing secondary school, as long as you’ve passed three A Levels in “hard” — that is traditional academic — subjects. Here in the United States, it’s just called, quite casually, “going to law school.” But you need four years of college or university education and an undergraduate degree in something or other in order to apply.

Nonetheless, unlike many other graduate programs, and contrary to what you may have thought, law school is much more a glorified trade school than an immersion in higher thought. When you finally acquire the J.D. degree — “J.D.” meaning juris doctor, or doctor of law — you’re not yet entitled to practice. There’s another hurdle ahead: you must take and pass one last big test in a state or states of your choosing. And that’s what you really need the J.D. degree for. It’s your entry ticket to “sitting for the bar.”

“Sitting for the bar” means you register to take, and then actually take, a two-day examination — three days if you’re sitting for two state bars at a time. Each day’s part is six hours in length, with an hour’s break after the first three hours for lunch and for standing in long bathroom lines. It’s administered in a huge aerodrome or covered stadium designated by the state in question as the place where its bloodless torture takes place twice a year. The size of the venue is driven by the fact that as many as 1500 newly minted J.D.’s may be taking the bar exam at the same time, in addition to the ones who failed their first or second try and have to try again.

Only when you’ve at last “passed the bar” may you finally proceed to the practice of law, and find out how little you really learned about it in law school. You will either (1) become an associate at a private law firm; (2) find a municipal, state or federal government job as a lawyer; (3) go what is called “in house” as a member of the legal staff of a corporation; or (4) “hang up your own shingle” — quaint phrase — usually because none of the other three possibilities have panned out.

But let’s back up. Although I don’t know what’s involved in learning how to be a plumber or electrician, I imagine the subject matter to be mastered for those trades must be broken down into manageable bits.  So it is in law school. Allegedly learning how to be a lawyer is broken down into various subject matters to be mastered, most of them in year-long courses. The specific choice of first-year course work may vary from law school to law school. In the end, however, all law schools will cover the six courses we took during my first year. Four of them ran from September through May: Property Law, Contract Law, Tort Law, and Civil Procedure. A fifth course, in Criminal Law, was tested at the end of the first semester and replaced in the spring by Constitutional Law, which was tested at the end of May, together with the four that had run for the whole year.

That’s right: five examinations at the end of the first year — and the first and only examinations we would have on each of those five subjects. Each exam lasted three hours, and consisted of three long-paragraph accounts of complicated hypothetical fact situations which between them raised every possible legal issue that had arisen in any case discussed or even mentioned in that course since September. We were advised to write for an hour on each hypothetical, but for no more than an hour, quickly identifying and explaining every legal issue we had spotted. Bathroom break? Take it at your peril! Leaving the room would mean less time to write, fewer issues spotted. Brilliance on one hypothetical did not compensate for ignorance on another. Failing an exam meant having to repeat the year-long course. Doing poorly in any exam adversely affected one’s class rank, an extremely important consideration in securing a first job — unless one of your parents or relatives knew somebody.

Understandably, there was much growing tension in the classroom as the weeks of May rolled by. Many of us, myself included, were there on federally backed student loans which would need to be repaid irrespective of the outcome of these exams. Some students were the first in their families to go to graduate school. Not making it would mean not making a family’s dream come true. The school had thoughtfully provided a ten-day study period following the end of classes before the first exam was scheduled to take place. But how do you study when you’re too nervous to focus on anything except the possibility of impending doom?

The youngest of our professors was an attractive woman who may have been a bit past thirty but certainly no more than thirty-five. This was only her second year as a member of the law faculty. It was known that she had taught fourth grade for a few years before going to law school; she brought a touch of the kindly and patient manner with which one instructs young children to teaching us, which was perhaps an error of style when addressing an auditorium full of twenty-somethings, plus me. What’s more, although she taught Civil Procedure — which governs courtroom practice in civil cases –she had never actually practiced law. She may not have even sat for a bar. She was slender, shapely, had great legs, and wore high heels to show them off — which was much appreciated by the young men in the class but did nothing to enhance her reputation as a professor to be respected for her knowledge.

On the final day we met with us, she did a quick review of what we might anticipate could be on the Civil Procedure exam. At last she put down her pointer and chalk, turned to us, and said she knew we were all very nervous. She had been through it herself not so long before, so she understood completely. And then this pretty woman with the gorgeous gams said something so important, and so applicable to so many other aspects of life, that I’ve never forgotten it, although by now I’ve forgotten almost everything I memorized that year.

“You may be so nervous,” she said, “that you’re too nervous to study. So this is what you do.”  Now no one was looking at her legs. We were all listening very carefully. “What you should do when you’re too nervous to study,” she said, “is study. And then the nervousness will go away.”

I was nearly fifty-two, as old as the mothers of my classmates. They called me Mrs. Mishkin very politely, but not one of them had invited me into a study group at the beginning of the year. I had to do all the class outlines by myself. I hadn’t taken an exam, except the one in Criminal Law, for twenty-seven years. The word “nervous” doesn’t begin to describe my state of mind. My husband had been out of work for well over a year. I had two adolescent children. I had done this all on loans. But I took her advice. And studied. And studied. And studied some more. And the nervousness did go away.

When the class rankings were posted after the grades were in on all five exams, I found myself tied for first place in a class of 345. That rank opened doors for interviews in major Boston law firms, despite my age. One of those interviews — and all it takes is one — one of those interviews led to a job that brought money into our family again, paid for braces, sneakers, music lessons, good private schools.

That’s why what I heard on the last day of the Civil Procedure class in May 1983 was the most useful lesson I learned in law school. There would be many more nervous-making situations ahead, beginning with sitting for the bar. Then came standing up in court in front of judges known to be misogynist. Leaving a marriage after twenty-two years. Being let go in my sixties and having to find respectable, interesting work again at that age. More recently needing to pull myself up from a nearly fatal medical experience and its aftermath. But I’ve never forgotten that when you’re too nervous to do something, just do it. The nervousness will go away. And then who knows what good things will happen next?






  1. I always hated when new attorneys started at whatever law firm I was working for, because they’d come in thinking they knew everything, only to discover they couldn’t even find the necessary form documents in the computer system, much less apply those documents to whatever case was involved.

    As for the whole law school process, I lived through it with my husband – over many, many years – as he struggled to complete his JD while we raised our children, and then studied for and took the Bar Exam. Once admitted as an attorney, he found a job in a small firm – only to learn that he really didn’t like being a lawyer after all. I couldn’t blame him. He’s much happier in a non-legal field. Not everyone discovers happiness in whatever field they studied for.

    Liked by 1 person

    • I’m with you, Cordelia’s Mom. I know very few lawyers who really like lawyering, especially in private firms. But as for “discovering happiness” in the work world? I very much doubt that’s the place to look for it.

      Liked by 2 people

  2. Nina, Just Do it! No matter what! A stellar message to accomplish pretty much anything. I kind of followed your education years and work trail as an older student (6 years younger than you). The nervousness of taking a 2 day 8 hours a day state board nursing exam in 1960 never forgotten. Then later in life the student loans for advanced education, and changing jobs in healthcare to match the acquired degrees. The lesson you so interestingly conveyed in this post is 100% true! Yup, the last 4 lines of your post say it all! We’re got more of the good life & good things to happen! 🎼 Christine

    Liked by 2 people

  3. Those of a nervous disposition are the real winners. They go through life constantly on the alert expecting mayhem and disorder all the time. There Is nothing more unnerving than to spend time with those blessed with calmness and nauseating serenity.
    I have never really found a profession that I had to study for. Making a living, earning money, came easy despite not having a ‘proper job.’ I managed to combine making art and earning a living. I often see people doing jobs and wonder what it must be like. A dentist for instance or doing colonoscopies. One has to study for years to learn those skills. I can’t imagine my wife would feel proud of me if I came home very tired and say ; I did a great job on a molar or performed a fantastic polypectomy today.
    I suppose doing creative work is the most pleasing and rewarding, but, making money from creativity is hard.
    A great article, Nina.
    Try and see a movie; ‘The Girls in Black.’

    Liked by 1 person

  4. I don’t remember reading this before, but, reading it now, I love it. I myself have become much more interested in legal issues because of the current goings-on in Washington. On another subject (or maybe it does relate), I think you were a little nervous (or at any rate apprehensive) about going to Florida but it seems you must have had a good trip and visit with your grands.


    • Re: trip to Florida: Yes, Martha, I was nervous about putting myself into the busy, bustling world of airports again after the weakening effects of the prior year. But with wheelchairs to and from the gate it all worked out very smoothly. Next trip will be crossing the ocean! Re: goings on in Washington — read the next piece to be posted. It will be right on point!


  5. Rita

    Hi N: I was really impressed with this piece, having just gotten around to reading it! I had no real idea of the trials and tribulations of law school, and really admire you even more for going through it in middle age! Alas, I know several lawyers who gave it up because they hated it–I think maybe they imagined themselves in some dramatic courtroom giving the speech that would change the juries’ minds in a criminal case. As for work that is wonderful–I would say that my years as a psychotherapist for emotionally disturbed young children was both exciting and rewarding! Loved it!

    Liked by 1 person

Share your thoughts

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.