A Difficult Passage

Shelly has already covered much of our experience with the bar, but for those interested, I thought I might share some personal aspects of the experience.  First, I think it's important to try and explain what NOT passing the bar feels like. Seven of years of college prior to law school, followed by 3 hard years in law school, culminating with about 300 hours in 10 weeks of feverish study for the bar. Then 6 weeks of waiting to find out... I missed the mark by 2.9 points out of 400. Less than 1%. Literally 3 more multiple choice questions correct in 200 or one more point on any of the 8 essays and I would've gotten it. This gif sums it up.

Or this:

So we reset and began the study program again. It's frustrating that the bar is only offered twice yearly, plus it takes 6 weeks to hear whether you pass or not.  Nevertheless, we tried to enjoy a couple weeks off the study program and we paid the 1000 bucks to take the test again.

The second round, I pulled out all the stops. I stopped playing video games entirely. I exercised 3 or more times a week. I really tried to focus all or any free time on my family. I cut my caffeine intake. I even tried this "power posing" thing I heard about online.

The exam itself and the time leading up to it is a heck of mental game. The pressure is hard to describe. Each time I went in to the test, I was overly conscious of my anxiety.  I remember seeing (or hearing, rather) fellow takers throwing up in the stalls as I used the bathroom.  A fellow student who is the closest thing to a genius I have ever met went into a fugue-like state where he was talking to himself and rehearsing rule elements. He had memorized most of the subject matter by a Greek method in which you assign various mnemonics to objects in rooms within an imaginary house. When he was telling me about it at lunch, I kinda felt like this.

One of my friends called me after the first exam results to brag about how he had killed the test on only 2 weeks of study. He also is one of those guys that was blessed with a near photographic memory. While he barely graduated from Southern Utah University with a C+ average and skated by on the bottom of the class in law school, he is 100% clutch. One of his claims to fame is taking an exam drunk and getting an A.

Good job, dude.

The first exam was the worst. It was held in an arena normally used for Pro basketball games or concerts--just a giant room with hundreds of law graduates typing away for hours.  The stress was palpable.  The collective typing sounded like light rain. We were searched before we entered the room each time.

The second exam was much better. It was held at the bar office and far fewer people take it in the winter, usually first time fails and over-achieving early graduates.  Most of this part is already recorded in the letter to my father in law on this blog. It was one of the most spiritual experiences of my life.

***
After five weeks of waiting, I was out jogging in the newly warming Spring and I got a call from a classmate. My entrails went to ice and I tried not to think about it on the way home. The bar results are published online corresponding to a number they give you at the test. I rushed inside; Shelly was home. I got my number and we said a family prayer.

Passing feels like this:

The silver lining to this difficult year is that now I can get a license in 12 other states without another exam. The July takers don't get grandfathered into this privilege. As for my drunk friend...