Why I Am Going to Law School

This week I broke the news to my German 1 and 2 students that I would not be returning as their teacher next year; that I'm going to law school instead.  Since they would have had a chance to have me as a teacher again next year, I figured this decision affected them the most out of all of my students.

Realizing this moment was coming a few months ago, I decided to sit down and put together an outline of my thoughts on why I am going to law school, just in case it turned into a teachable moment.  You know how I love outlines and organized thoughts anyway...

In the end, the response to my news did not evidence much concern, even on the part of my best-beloved students.  One response was "We'll be students at KU at the same time! We can go to keg parties together!" (...um... no thanks...) and another response was "Hey, how do you say 20 in German? I forgot and I need to know for number 5 on the homework."

It relieved a little of my guilt complex, that they didn't seem too traumatized by the idea of my departure from Topeka West. But, shoot, it just didn't give me a chance to delve very far into the answer that I had begun carefully constructing.  Guess what, blogs are an excellent outlet for expressing thoughts that are desperate to find an audience.

Ahem: "Why I am going to law school," by Miriam Friesen.

A few years ago I got started thinking about food and farming.  I'd like to credit my parents for this.  Many a family supper in high school and college was strongly flavored by my dad's thoughts on local food economies, sustainably produced foods, biodiversity, and preventative healthcare based on healthy eating habits.  I recall our meals during that time period being generously sprinkled with clever quotes and pithy tidbits from Wendell Berry, Joel Salatin, Gene Logsdon, and Michael Pollan.  Before I read any Wendell Berry for myself, my sister and I had a running inside joke about him.  Any time one of us asked an opinion about something, the other one of us would put on a very serious expression and start our opinion with, "Well, I think Wendell Berry would say..." (hehehe... Sorry, Dad!)
  
But in spite of our rolling eyes, the thoughts and questions sank in... of course.  And then all in the same year or two, my parents moved across the country to start a farm of their own; I joined in on the Oxfam campaign to reform the most recent US Farm Bill; I read An Omnivore's Dilemma; and I was suddenly surrounded by other people who were concerned about some of the same issues I was.

It was clear to me: the American food system could use some restructuring.  The more I read and think about it these days, the more interconnected all of the parts become--farmer's market rules are related to state food safety laws are related to big agribusinesses are related to standard farming methods are related to farm subsidies are related to food prices are related to capitalist principles are related to international commodity trade is related to food availability overseas is related to seed patents are related to biodiversity of crop species is related to food security is related to local food production is related to farmers markets...

I could go on... forever probably... but when I take a step back from this interconnected web that I am weaving for myself, I see a common thread: All of these things are shaped by, or themselves shape, US and world policies related to agriculture, food, and trade.

I want to understand those policies!  I HAVE to understand those policies!  I want to know the ins and outs of how they work, and who gets a say, and why.  I want to know what's been tried in the past, and what ideas there are for the future, and the potential problems with both.  I want to put myself in a position where I am able to speak both the language of the laws and the language of farmers and consumers.

I've come to the conclusion that there are two ways to have power in this or any discussion: to have money, or to have knowledge.  Of course, I have money in the "vote with your dollars" sense of having money, but I don't have the money to fund lobbyists and ad campaigns (that would be fun, wouldn't it?).  What I do have is the desire and the ability to work towards becoming a coherent voice in the discussion of the world food economy.
Just as importantly, I hope to become a communication channel and line of defense for those whose lives are greatly affected by these policies, but who lack the power to make their voices heard. I want to help ensure that their rights speak just as loudly as money does in the shaping and enforcement of agriculture and food policy laws.  (And just so you know, I get so excited just thinking about this, I'm having to hold myself back from using exclamation points at the end of each sentence!)

At this point, I always feel the need to issue this caveat so that you know I'm still in touch with reality: I know this is all very theoretical and idealistic. I understand that law school does not allow a tunnel-vision focus on one issue, and I'm aware that it's a big investment of time and money.

But if the above doesn't sound like a fascination with law and an inspiration to bury myself in its study for three years... Well, all that is left to say is that I've never been so excited about the future of my career, or so convinced that this is the direction I am supposed to be going!

PS Here are some of the thoughts that have been living on my bookshelf recently:

Morale and Motivation

I came to school today in a great mood, for three reasons in particular: One, the trip to see my sister's senior art show in Indiana provided me with a long weekend away from work; Two, I was wearing new red shoes (courtesy of my generous new friend Maggie, who let me adopt them for my very own, even though they were probably her best Goodwill-find ever); Three, I was carrying a bag of dark chocolate that I bought for the road trip, but forgot about until this morning when I unpacked. 

However, after unwrapping and devouring my third dark chocolate piece in the first two minutes of my plan period today, I realized it might not be the best idea to bring chocolate with me to work (long weekends and new shoes, on the other hand, remain a great way to bolster morale).

The inspiration for my manic chocolate-eating was the stack of US History tests that I was putting off entering into the grade book.  The curve of grades looked more like a steep upward climb than a bell, which usually means that something went terribly wrong. 

But as I paged through the open-note short answer tests, a few patterns reassured me that the error was not on my part.   Instead of answering all 8 short answer questions, some kids stopped after 4 or 5.  Far from writing the minimum 2 sentences, some kids wrote three words.  Instead of sentences, one kid copied a T-chart out of his notes.  I might have been tempted to award him with a point or two anyway, but the chart was unfortunately unrelated to the question he indicated he was answering.

It really pains me to have to hand out bad grades, but I just had to admit it was clear that the only thing wrong with this test was carelessness and lack of effort on the part of my dear angels.  Sometimes I just don't get them, and it is so difficult to predict what assignments will inspire them, and which will cause them to sink into the depths of hopelessness and whininess. 

One student today, a college-bound senior doing independent study, sighed dramatically and said "Really, Ms. Friesen? A TWO-page paper??" I laughed, embarrassed at my ridiculously low standards, and replied, "You're saying that because it's so short, right?"  He wasn't. 

On the other hand, my normally unmotivated sophomores (the authors of the tests above) settled right into a long-term reading assignment today, with no protest at all.  Over the next several days, they will be reading any 50 pages out of a selection of topical history books I picked from our school library.   "We can read 50 pages from any of the books we want?" Yep.  "So, is that 50 pages out of each book, or 50 pages total?" one not-particularly-academically-minded student asked, without a trace of fear or concern in her voice. 

"Um, yes... ONLY 50 pages total..." (And you ONLY have to write a total of 100 facts gleaned from those only 50 pages.  ...Glad you see it that way). During the 40 minutes they read silently today, I only had to send one student into the hall to do jumping jacks (which is a relatively mild fix for this particular student's overwhelming energy and effervescent obnoxiousness). 

Well, I remain mystified about the process of motivating and inspiring teenagers.  But my new shoes are still comfortable after 8 hours of pacing the classroom, and I got enough papers graded during plan to leave the rest at school, so I'm going home satisfied with my day.

Status

My current feeling (such a common feeling at 3:10 pm Monday through Friday) seems so significant that I just feel I have to announce it, right now, but social networking sites are blocked at school, so my blog is my only outlet.

Here it is, world, this is what I accomplished today:

I have survived through another day of teaching, and I didn't kill anyone, and only a small part of my soul withered, and I even think I may still emerge from teaching with part of my sanity and self-worth in tact.

(I'm not sure how people do this day after day for their entire career. Two years is plenty for me.)