A Heart of Stone

I.F. Stone, that is (you know, the journalist). Since I first walked into law school, I have been asked “why did you go to law school?” about twenty (thousand) times. Each time, I think I answered a little differently, ad-libbing what I thought the situation called for, knowing that the true reason was in me, but not really sure where to look or, after being a 1L, if I even still remembered. Well, this week, Beth Rosenberg (professor in the public health department at TUSM) reminded me. She began class by reading this piece by I.F. Stone:

“The only kinds of fights worth fighting are those you are going to lose, because somebody has to fight them and lose and lose and lose until someday, somebody who believes as you do wins. In order for somebody to win an important, major fight 100 years hence, a lot of other people have got to be willing - for the sheer fun and joy of it - to go right ahead and fight, knowing you're going to lose. You mustn't feel like a martyr. You've got to enjoy it.”

So there it was- the reason I went to law school- hidden right in the introductory remarks of a public health class. I went to law school to fight the big battles AND the small skirmishes, to make EVERY molehill into a mountain because I didn’t want to have to choose which injustice I should watch someone suffer through and which I should attempt to intervene in. I went to law school so that someday, someone could have their Brown v. Board, their Tinker v. Des Moines, and their Roe v. Wade—and I expected to have enjoyed every minute of the journey, win or lose.

Beth Rosenberg used I.F. Stone’s piece as the opener to a lecture on the importance of community advocacy (that’s right, Tufts is a big fan of the “a” word too, not just our NUSL) in not only empowering those without a voice but also encouraging those already in power to make better societal and environmental decisions. All I can say is that I guess it took a public health school (I.F. Stone and Beth Rosenberg too, of course) to remind me why I went to law school. Could you use a reminder?

The Right to Arm Bears

No, I’m not confused about the 2nd Amendment or referring to this sci-fi masterpiece of a book series. Sitting in my Occupational and Environmental Health class this week, I happened to look at the girl who was sitting directly across the room from me (I’ll come back to the seating arrangement later) and happened to see that her coffee mug said “Support Your Right to Arm Bears.”

Well, I thought this was pretty clever. The mug even had Smokey the Bear holding a Smith & Wesson. But, after thinking about it for a bit, I realized that this is what Tufts is all about. Not fueling animal hostility, of course, but promoting justice from the bottom up. Having just left law school and a judicial clerkship for co-op, I really felt like meaningful change was a thing that percolated down from the very top. After all, there is no denying how reliant we lawyers are on precedent—you know, what the courts have already decided was ok and not ok.

But Tufts takes a different road to get to meaningful change and, so far, it’s proven to be a more scenic route. Remember that handcuffed feeling that you got when no one got compensated for NIED because the witnesses weren’t family members or when some squatter got to keep someone else’s land just because the rightful owner didn’t check up on it every couple of years or when the exact language of the deed made it seem like the old lady should have gotten the house but the way the court interpreted it (ie: randomly) begged to differ? Well, that frustration is something that you will still share with your classmates here, but their experience working with community organizations may actually be kind of therapeutic. Don’t get me wrong, there are no solutions to these problems hanging off the trees on campus, just waiting to be picked. But there is a lot of experience here in community organizing and doing something WITH (not just FOR) those who are oppressed, or can’t get access to medical care, or have rats in their apartment...and that’s a little different from law school. That’s probably enough on that for now, but you get the idea. If you want more details, shoot me an email or leave a comment.

Finally, as promised, a word about the seating arrangement. Did you ever notice in law school how every class except LSSC involved having you face the professor and having your back to your colleagues? Kind of makes you feel like the only person with something important to say in class was the professor, no? Rest assured, classrooms don’t NEED to be that way. You can, in fact, pay attention to the professor and nevertheless know what your colleagues’ faces look like! Most classes here are small (think less than 25 people) and are very seminar-like. So, be prepared to speak, but without being cold-called. Oh yeah, be prepared to listen too, people are saying important things here.