Dear First Year,
It has been nearly two months in this place now for you, and I am sure you are tired of being inundated with contradictory advice on how to survive (or thrive) in this godforsaken place. But bear with me, because my advice is fairly simple, and has the advantage of being delivered by someone who is not a stud, so don’t think it is unattainable. It is this: do not, under any circumstances, become like me.
I entered this place with all the realism of a child, expecting everything to magically fall into place for me. When things went wrong – as they were bound to – I went overboard trying to prove I fit into this place. I quit chasing the things that actually mattered to me, the things that shaped me, and went after grades and committees and social status. But I did not do enough for any of these things either – I abandoned moots halfway, and crammed the syllabus at the last minute. I became a receptacle of nothingness, unchanged by the learning that was so easily available to me in this place.
But not only was I untouched by the good parts of law school, I began losing the few passions I did enter the place with. My writing was, if I may say so myself, once filled with allegory and beauty. It has now become a rehash of everyone else’s, echoing all the crap that I am reduced to reading online. The language that was once a source of solace for me has begun to wear me down. Where I could once read Guy de Maupassant and Victor Hugo in the original, I now struggle to switch between the three simple tenses and accord my verbs and adjectives. I no longer sketch or doodle for the heck of it, but as a means of killing time and to avoid studying the next order or bare act. And my reading? Well, I suppose I shall always have books, but they, too, sometimes feel like one more chore to finish.
I can’t even claim to have any character. My ex and (once) one of my closest friends, who once told me he loved me for my ferocity and bravery, has virtually cut me off because he couldn’t stand to see me function as a shadow of the person that I used to be. My convictions and ideals have suffered, and the people around me will not hesitate to admit that I am neither revolutionary enough, nor passionate enough for the causes I profess to believe in. And I am weaker than I ever was – two years at the counselor with no sign of progress, a lack of money the only barrier between me and alcoholism. I long for a smoke every day even though a cigarette has yet to pass my lips.
The truth is, dear First Year, that I allowed the madness in the place – the competitiveness, the bitchiness – to seep inside me and take root there. I let it shake me out until I was insecure about even the little things that did not matter, because every time someone got ahead of me in any area it was like conceding defeat. And I let it wring me dry of any passion or emotion, turning me into the kind of person who, instead of seeking love or friendship or any meaningful human connection, contents herself with the increasingly elusive orgasms from jacking off to shitty porn.
All I have now for companionship is anxiety and envy, and I only have myself to blame.
For those few seniors who will read this and accuse me of self-pity and seeking attention, to those who suggest that I am overly defeatist in my attitude: I haven’t given up. I’m fighting myself every day: telling myself life isn’t all a race, getting things done, pushing myself to come out of my shell, seeking out new experiences, trying to rediscover what I once loved. But I have reached a point in my life where I have to run just to remain where I am without moving forward. God forbid if I were to stand still. And I know as well as any of you that being seen as weak – publicly – is the last thing that is likely to get you help in law school. The only reason I’m writing this is because most of this harm is self-inflicted, and possibly also systemic and cyclical, and I want to serve as a cautionary tale, if I can do nothing else.
The gist of my letter, dear First Year, is this: law school provides you opportunities to grow as a person. Use them. Find yourself, find new people, learn new things. But do not let the madness get to you. Hold on to who you are – the good parts of who you are – in the face of whatever challenges law school and life will throw at you. Because if you truly give it a chance, law school can do so much for you.
Do not be me, the one dumbfuck who allowed it to wreck her.
Ever yours,
Anonymous.
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Disclaimer: This article is not meant to be an advertisement brochure to push people into the dark void of the capitalist rat race but is meant to bridge the informational gap that exists in law school given that we have no career counseling sessions and many of us don’t have the advantage of being friends with seniors or coming from law backgrounds, and therefore cannot seek advice. I hope this article will help all the Simrans and Rajs trying to figure out their life plans and simultaneously not lose their shit in La-School.
Let’s evaluate your average Simran (for the lack of any other generic Indian name; no reference to any specific Simran) at law school. Simran joined law school not having any great ambitions, but knowing very well that she has to become financially independent in about a decade or so lest her parents foist her off into an unwanted rishta (or Bauji’s business). Simran had never done anything great in school, and she figured law school would be the same way- as long as she had decent grades and worked hard, things would be fine.
However, Simran’s naivety was shattered because she soon realized that everybody was roughly equally smart, and equally eager to get their hands on the ‘package’. It’s not that she really wanted the job- but she didn’t want to be stuck in the cold while everyone else was rolling in the green- and more importantly, she really wanted to try living life on her own terms as opposed to staying at home and accepting the proposal of her second cousin Kuljeet. So she took up everything she could in the past four years- she did Jessup, she was Convenor of 2 committees, she had the grades, but she didn’t do anything path-breaking outside of that.
Now she’s sitting outside the Training Centre and waiting for interviews to begin. Sitting next to her is Raj, who has okay grades, has done a few extra-curricular activities, and quite a few internships but has never mooted or been the member of any committee. He is known as one of the most outgoing and creative students in their batch, has done extensive social work and is the captain of the football team. Raj keeps telling everybody that he’s here just for the kicks and that these kind of jobs are overrated, except deep down inside he knows that’s elitist bull. He’s the first graduate in his family; he has two siblings to send to college and parents on the verge of retirement. He could really use the ‘package’ right now-except now he feels his entire law school life was a waste just because he doesn’t have the magic 6-point-something number in his resume.
You might think you know who’s going to hit the jackpot at the end of this: but do you really?
A lot of the choices we make, and our ability to make them, depend upon the amount of effort we put in in our five years in law school. There are a plethora of options available, but only so much you can humanly do within a trimester system without having a nervous breakdown. How do you allocate your time? More importantly, is all of it- the tears you cried over not getting an A+, the hours you spent over reams of commentaries while your friends were at NYP, and the *beep* work you did because nobody else in the committee was willing to- even going to be worth it? Or should you have just spent all that time doing the things you actually liked but with no employment value- napping, reading the news, watching more YouTube videos, etc.?
This article attempts to decode one of the most important questions after R+L=J and ‘Is the Internet Working in the Library?’- what exactly is CV value? What is it composed of? Does it even exist? If it does, does it really make a difference? Apart from exploring the value of all the conventional things- CGPA, mooting, committees, etc.; the article will also look at the importance of things outside of CV value- and the one secret ingredient that might surprise you all.
While it’s easy to accuse people of ‘CV-whoring’, it certainly is the first step to your dream job. According to Navneet Hrishikeshan, (Director of Service Providers Legal, Asia-Pacific and Japan, and in-house counsel for CISCO), “Your resume won’t get you the job, but it acts as a foot in the door.” At the moment, he is personally going through numerous resumes to select a member of the legal team for CISCO. He quips, “Firms hire based on attitude. However if you have 72 resumes to go through, the little things help in eliminating people. So it should not be lazily written.”
So what’s going to be the first thing that catches the recruiter’s eye? It’s obviously going to be your CGPA right? Priyanka Madan (Batch of 2015, Trainee-Solicitor at Herbert Smith Freehills, London) states “While I agree that CGPA is not everything, I still think it’s is a very important component of your CV, simply because it’s the first thing anyone will look at. More traditional firms/colleges will also give it the most importance, and if you’re using your CV to get an academic role, there really isn’t any other way for the selection committee to judge your potential. I would always advice students to keep their CGPA in mind, and take academics at law school seriously. Obviously, this is easier said than done. Some courses will kill your will to live, forget CGPA upkeep.”
Chetan Nagendra (Partner, AZB) agrees: “CGPA, mooting and extra-curricular activities are particularly important for the first decade of a legal career, when younger lawyers (and recruiters) tend to rely more on the individual strength of a CV in determining a hire.” However, he adds, “Later on, individual reputations in the market have more of an impact on the career path of lawyers. A high CGPA is a good indication of a bright lawyer, but is no guarantee for a successful career in the law. That often boils down to traits such as hard work, smartness, confidence and eliciting the support of others.”
Vaibhav Ganjiwale (Corporate Law Professor at NALSAR, formerly Amarchand Mangaldas) warns about the disadvantage of focusing on one’s GPA to the exclusion of everything else. “If you do lots of moots, debates, conferences, and organize conferences, this means you are taking initiative, you’re pushing yourself, you’re learning. It’s a good thing. If it adds to your CV and you ultimately get a job, then that’s good for you. This exposure gives you a different level of confidence. I’m actually not worried too much about such kids. What I’m worried about is those who think that GPA is the only thing.
The problem is that some students, because they do very well in academics, start looking down upon those who don’t, since the will decide in their heads that the other things are not important. The problem is that some of the people around are just working on their GPAs from their very first year, aiming for a law firm. Please don’t do that. The first three years are going for NGOs, trying to get different colors, as many as possible. Just GPA building is not the answer.”
The importance given to mooting in law schools- with there being a ‘Mooting Premier League’ may lead impressionable juniors to thing that it is the sine qua non of one’s law school life. Experience suggests otherwise. Arun Sri Kumar (Partner, Keystone Partners; formerly Indus Law and McKinsey), who has judged the University Selections this time, candidly states that he never mooted in his five years in law school, though he enjoys it as a judge. “The ten people in my batch who became litigators never mooted, and those who did either went onto further studies or are doing firm jobs.” However, according to Mr. Nagendra, “Mooting is meant to provide confidence to a young lawyer in advocacy and learning the art of persuasion- invaluable skills whether for trial or corporate lawyers.”
Pinka says, “I don’t think they (moots/debates/ADR etc.) have any special value. At least that’s the case with UK firms, because we work with trainees who have never studied law, and wouldn’t even know what a moot is (lucky them!). So long as you have some extra-curricular activities on your CV, be they the overrated mooting/debating, or the ones that actually need a lot of talent and dedication but we steadfastly ignore like drama, music, dance, writing, quizzing, sports, it’ll set you apart and add individuality and character to your CV.
I’m conscious that this isn’t the case with national firms, where seniors from law schools are often on the recruitment committees, so they may very well favour applicants who have done prestigious moots they recognize the names of. Even generally the legal community in India seems to hold certain moots/debates in high regard. But I don’t think the situation is such that everything on your CV will be meaningless if you haven’t done Jessup. It’s more a slight advantage, as opposed to a guaranteed dealmaker. You can always have other stuff on your CV that makes you stand out nevertheless, sans moots and debates.”
However, there’s no denying that extra-curriculars, in general, are important. Pinka continues, “This is what makes your CV. People looking to give you a job/a spot in their university want to know how you will fit in with their community and your extra-curricular record will generally give a fair indication of this. Students also need to know that there is a lot more to work life than just work, and any extra skills you can bring to the table are appreciated. If your grades are as good as the next person’s, the fact that you can speak in front of people without hesitation, or have an almost perfect 3-point shot may make all the difference. Participation in committees shows “team values”, “collaborative thinking” and “spirit of cooperation” and other such nonsense that you find on most applications/Statements of Purpose.”
This ties in with what Mr. Kamal Stephens, who is Head of University Relations at CISCO, has to say: “Firms are looking for team spirit, co-operation and other such skills. Sports can be really important in showing team player abilities.’ However, one has to keep in mind that the relative importance given to extra-curriculars will also depend upon the kind of job one is applying for.”
Mr. Sri Kumar explains, “For traditional law firm jobs all these things lose significance as they are hiring in large numbers- a supply-demand gap exists. However for niche jobs such as UK law firm jobs, McKinsey and scholarships, things such as committee work matter as they are looking for specific kinds of achievements, leadership attributes, and a specific kind of personality.’
While all of this might sound like a case of ‘been there, done that’; a more holistic view will show that what really matters is not so much what you do inside law school but outside of it. Internships not only give you an opportunity to test various career options and whether they suit you, but they also give you an opportunity to network. Talking about networking, it turns out that the relationships built with seniors in law school might just be useful for a lot of things other than just free booze. Mr. Sri Kumar says “Typically recruitment comes down to internships. If you have law school seniors at CAM who have a good opinion of you, you can get a job even if you don’t have a good GPA. They are not looking at your CV in the abstract.” His own firm hires on the basis of internships.
For career options such as litigation, internships might matter a lot more than the rest of your CV. Mr. Sri Kumar quips, “For a litigation job, CV does not matter at all. The litigating bar is very blasé about CV and is more interested in your ability to handle crisis and to think on your feet. Some people will ask you to intern first so that they can see you up close in action.”
Pinka also agrees, that “work experience and recommendations are a big plus. Besides showing your interest and capabilities, it also indicates to the recruiter the options you have explored. This is why it’s important not just to list out work ex, but also explain the skills you picked up from each place of work, and how you will apply them to your future job. For international firms, experiences that show that you are comfortable with different cultures and international interaction are important. Knowing multiple languages is a big plus. Always think of these things from the point of view of the employer and their company specifically. Don’t CV-dump, but picking out 1-2 meaningful examples that highlight your personality/skills will set your CV apart.”
While she doesn’t think that networking with seniors directly helps you get the job, she says “It’ll definitely make your life easier after you do get the job. It’ll also be helpful when you are going through the application process and you need a fresh pair of eyes to go through your application.” Mr. Hrishikeshan also recommends getting a mix of internships- at least one law firm, litigation and company internship respectively. His own internship with Hindustan Unilever in fifth year proved to be extremely useful as he got exposure to how being part of an in-house legal team works, (quite rare amongst the usual mix of law school internships) and eventually went onto pursue his career as an in-house counsel.
Mr. Stephens emphasizes that networking will result in having jobs referred to you by people, and that it is important to find a mentor in the initial stages of one’s career. Mr. Hrishikeshan adds his own personal anecdote in this regard of how quite a few times he has got jobs, in spite of not having an official interview, by socializing with people and having them call back later about available options. It does seem to be about ‘being at the right place, at the right time.’
However, as Mr. Sri Kumar points out “Now you have a challenge because you also have people from NUJS and NALSAR on the recruitment team. For instance, an Amarchand tax team will have three associates from every campus. In this situation, the partners will look at CVs as everyone may recommend different persons. In the end, it comes down to internal discussions.”
By now, you might be thinking “I’m in a bigger conundrum than when I first started out!” The prima facie picture does seem to be that you have to do a mish-mash of everything if you want to get that cushy London job or unattainable Ivy League scholarship. Before you consider turning your life into a potpourri, interestingly enough, the key to the perfect CV might just be- as irritatingly clichéd as it sounds…To Be Yourself.
Padmini Baruah (Batch of 2016, Business Analyst at McKinsey and Co.) is emphatic that “I never mooted, never ran after too many committees, wasn’t the top ten of my class also. I think I just did whatever I did to have fun, and did work that struck me as meaningful. That said, it can’t be denied that my nature as a whole is easygoing and playful, and McKinsey likes that.” Though she does say that “Herbert Smith was not too amused when I sat for their test. Like they didn’t like my profile, but then I didn’t like their test or their working style so I wasn’t disappointed or anything.” Mr. Sri Kumar also recommends not building a CV blindly but “doing things that you are passionate about and see if it leads to a career path.”
Mr. Hrishikeshan is another espouser of the ‘Do What You Love’ philosophy. In his time, he says “Everyone wanted to work with Arthur Anderson, which was a very well-paying tax practice. But eventually it turned out to be too boring.” He personally worked as in-house at a FMCG company before joining WIPRO at half the salary. “I didn’t want to look at Weights and Measures Act again.” He recommends experimentation. “It’s easier to do it in the first few years of your career. After that, you have a family, you have kids to send to school, you’re less likely to take risks.”
The clinching factor, even if one does manage to conjure up the magical perfect CV, might just be your appearance and manner on the day of the interview. “It’s not like they really care,” Mr. Hrishikeshan says, “but they have very few tools to eliminate (from amongst all the CVs). So it helps to be clean shaven and not wear torn jeans.” Pinka also suggests, “Always helps to shower and have clean clothes that smell nice for your interviews. Not compulsory, of course.”
Again, another clichéd and oft-repeated dialogue, but your CV really will not be the end of your life. It will certainly be of immense help in having the opportunity to go to the places you want and the things that you do. So before you throw away your books, you will have to study hard and do other things as well. However the crucial factor is that these have to be things you feel passionate about. Moreover, attitude matters. At the end of the day firms, universities or even senior lawyers are not looking for particular CVs as much as particular kinds of people. So even if you don’t have a 7.0 CGPA, have never been the Convenor of a Committee, played any kind of sport or musical instrument, never mooted or done any public speaking activity- here’s the good news: you can still make it. Even if you have done all of these things, you will need a lot of hard work and tenacity to ultimately become successful- and even then it won’t be any guarantee of becoming a self-actualized human being.
So go ahead. You can choose to sleep in instead of signing up for Univ Rounds. Alternatively, you can do the international moots you’ve always dreamed of- but not because you want to make Partner at A&O but because you actually enjoy that field of law (and traveling on college money is always a plus!). But whatever it is you ultimately do- it will be your own initiative and drive getting you ahead more than any piece of paper ever can.
]]>This article was written by Sakhi Shah (Batch of 2017).
Dear Law School-ite,
I’m sorry to have to be the one to tell you this, but chances are very high that you either are, or on the path of becoming, a boring person.
It’s not really your fault. It is the product of generations of wisdom that is handed down to you from seniors, wisdom that amounts to essentially this: be afraid. In our collective imaginations, we have made Law School into a monster with project submissions at its teeth, six-day weeks as its claws, and the trimester system itself as its dark heart. We pat ourselves on the back for passing each trimester and submitting each project. We struggle through days of watching TV shows and the occasional all-nighter right before the exam. We have succumbed to a culture of complaining, where more time is spent thinking and cribbing about what you’re doing than actually doing anything. I will admit that I have fallen prey to this myself often in Law School.
Sadly, what I’ve learnt is that this not only destroys your enthusiasm for your own college experience but also makes you a pretty damn boring person. Exhausted by the imaginary struggles of doing the bare minimum work required to get through college, we tend to think that there is just no time for pursuing anything with any real interest or passion. Most of us stop reading, stop painting or dancing or singing (except at Univ Week). We start joining committees to get them on our CVs and then do the bare minimum over there as well.
Occasionally, it makes sense to go through that very CV and think about what you have on it that makes you interesting. What do you have on there that you could talk intelligently about to a person you met at a party? Which part of your CV is something that you achieved rather than just a position you were at? In the hyper-competitive world that we live in, is anyone particularly interested in either a laundry list of boring generic positions of responsibility overloaded with multiple committees and a so-so performance at many middling moots? Are they interested in how you got through sixty courses and exams and projects (i.e., what all your peers did) and how difficult it was? Nope. These things are not inspiring and they’re not valuable. They make you boring.
The first step to being an interesting person is to stop telling yourself how difficult Law School is. We are in class for five hours a day. This includes your breaks and your commute (in most cases). In many classes, we switch off mentally or physically, taking this time to nap, work on other things, daydream, or read. Compare this to several other Law Colleges in the country (and the non-undergraduate courses even in NLS), where students are in class till 4 or 6 every evening. Compare this to a law firm, where you will be at work (and working hard) for perhaps 12 hours a day. Hell, if you think law firms are drudgery, think about the entry-level requirements of any profession – to do well you will have to work very hard for many, many years. If not anything else, do what we’re very fond of doing and compare yourself to colleges in the West: how many classes in all five years of Law School do you read a hundred pages a day for?
Once you realize that Law School is not difficult, you also realize that you’re wasting a lot of time. I have a challenge for you: for one trimester, refuse to do any college work after six in the evening. From say three to six, devote yourself with energy to whatever task you’re doing. This time is more than enough to make good projects, read for class, and study for exams, provided you do it about five days a week and don’t spend more time worrying about how hard it is than doing it.
You’ll find you have a lot of free time on your hands. Now, use it. If you came to Law School as one of those lucky people who know what they want to do with their lives, spend your time identifying your next goal and taking concrete steps towards achieving it. If you want to do an LLM, work towards research and publishing papers. If you want to be in a law firm, read more than necessary for every class so you’re turning in papers and answers that are so far beyond the base level that a teacher can’t help but give you an O.
However, if you, like most people in Law School, have no idea at all what you want to do, you’re going to have a different task. You must work towards finding interesting things. You must attend campus lectures and go into research centers. You must go off campus and explore Bangalore. You must run marathons. You must party like you mean it. You must open yourself to opportunities till you can find one that you find so exciting that it keeps you up in the night and wakes you up in the morning. And you must stick with it even when it stops being exciting, even when Law School gets hard.
Note: this cannot be something you do half-heartedly. If you write, you can’t be the person who writes the occasional over-laborious poem. You must know everything anyone has ever said about writing. You must read. You must write every day and write different things.
It doesn’t have to be a moot or a committee. If what gets you out of bed is League of Legends, play till your fingers bleed. Then find a way to create something or engage with it. Make video tutorials about your favourite game. Write a blog post based on your favourite book. Write a Quirk article on Happy Hours in Bangalore. Write a collection out of the stories that your grand-parents told you. Being passive is not acceptable. You must create something of value to the world, something that will have measurable standards of success, such as people following you on YouTube or being published by Quirk. (Sadly, a personal record of how many shots you can down without passing out is probably not valuable to the world.)
Perhaps you will end up finding your passion in life. Perhaps (and more likely) you will simply learn transferable skills that you can use to build a life and a career you enjoy.
Becoming a non-boring person requires sacrifices. One of the most important will probably be traditional achievements. When your friends become Conveners of committees or do moot court competitions, you will question whether you are hurting your future prospects by not having a laundry list of such activities on your CV. Even if you do go the traditional achievements route (and we do need Convenors and mooters, we always will), you must question at every stage what you are doing that is remarkable. Bringing the deficit of a committee down by a few lakhs is awesome. Organizing the same festival in the same way that people have done for ten years … maybe not so much. Another sacrifice will be that of time. Joining a charitable initiative or a journal in fourth year because you need to look like a good person in your applications isn’t enough for you to do remarkable things in that initiative or journal. Doing amazing things requires you to pay your dues and learn how things are done so you can build something truly wonderful in whatever field you choose.
Three and a half years into Law School (and many applications later) I have learnt that a CV can only be two pages and it is usually not enough for a laundry list of stuff. The only things that are staying on there are the things where I did something remarkable, and I’ve found that the remarkable is only hidden in the nooks and crannies of my work. It’s the stuff I stayed up nights to do. It’s what got me out of bed in the morning. It’s what was not average.
I’ve also learnt that you can’t fake interestingness. Most interviewers, prospective clients (and prospective love interests) have seen enough people with the full gamut of achievements on their CV. There is a point when you realize that your CV is identical to that of most other people you know (or worse, that it is not and you have not done anything). In such a situation, what makes you unique or noticeable? What makes people sit up and notice you?
And most importantly, beyond anyone else, what do you want out of Law School? What do you want out of life? And how are you going to get there?
Law School is not the real monster. The real monster is a culture of mediocrity that we are slowly and surely building in our educational institutions, workplaces, and personal lives. Though this culture is not your fault, it’s only solution lies through personal effort, sacrifice, and experimentation. You (even the first years) have been here long enough for the transition period to be over, and chances are, so is your starry-eyed period. When the dust clears, who are you going to be? And what is Law School going to be, because of you?
Regards,
Sakhi.