I’ve gotta be honest—I don’t think I really knew what clinics were when I started at HLS. I mean, I had a vague idea, but the whole concept seemed really intense and maybe reserved for only the people who were super-into a topic area, not a wandering soul like me. I’ve now done not one but three clinics. They are incredibly instructive, and they fill the need you might feel to DO something with all this legal knowledge you build during your time here.
The clinic I’m in now is the Transactional Law Clinic, which helps people set up small businesses and non-profits and helps local recording artists with contracts. I didn’t realize how much clients would rely on me for even non-legal business advice, and it’s exciting to be giving your opinions on business and your advice on the law. Starting a new fashion line of socks? I don’t have a business degree, but I do wear socks, so that obviously qualifies me to comment.
Beyond your everyday sock entrepreneurs, life at the clinic sometimes goes in unexpected directions. I had to make a court appearance for one of my clients, which is very rare for this clinic (but common for others). I’m standing there at the bench while the opposing attorney is talking, and when he’s finished the judge looks over to me for a response and says “Counsel?” Realistically, it was probably only a few seconds of stupefied silence, but I had kind of an out-of-body experience (not to sound dramatic or anything). I was thinking “Counsel? He’s calling ME counsel? Can’t he see I’m just a law student and I have no idea what I’m doing?” Demonstrating true poise, I opened and closed my mouth like a fish a few times before I remembered how to speak. It wasn’t terrible, but I’m not going to lie, it wasn’t my finest moment, either. I forgot to say my own name. I forgot to say the authority under which I was appearing. I also called the judge “sir” once instead of “your honor.” Worse, I almost let an expletive slip when I realized that I had said sir, which I’m pretty confident would have been way worse than the sir thing.
Luckily, all clinical work is supervised by a licensed attorney (who was standing directly behind me during my “counsel” moment). Yes, they throw you in the deep end of the pool, but at least they give you water wings. And yes, I just likened my clinical supervisor to those floaty arm things toddlers use. In the end I did fine, and the judge granted my client’s continuance! I’m pretty sure it was a sympathy continuance, if such a thing exists, but hey, I’ll take it!
So when you get here, reserve a spot on your dance card for at least one clinic during your 2L or 3L year. Don’t get frustrated with the waitlists — they’re popular for a reason. You might be helping an entrepreneur start something new, or you might get your day to shine in a courtroom appearance. And when you do, as long as you remember to say your own name, you can at least tell yourself that you did better than I did. Sock it to me!
– Erin
