By Krista Yee

Notre Dame Law School graduate

July 2008 California Bar Exam

Nine weeks:

The morning after Memorial Day, Bar/Bri administrators handed each student a course schedule and “paced program.” Scanning the paced program that mapped out the next nine weeks — including assignments for weekends and the Fourth of July — produced the first of many panicked moments. While the professor on the video talked generally about the MBE, repeatedly pronouncing property as “proper-tie” in a failed attempt to amuse his audience, my friend leaned over and whispered “you’ve got to be kidding me.” Thumbing through the calendar he continued, “there’s no way anyone can do all this work!” Day 1, I thought. Sixty-three to go.

Eight weeks:

During a break from one of the video lectures, my friends and I questioned, “Why isn’t law school taught using worksheets?” The fill-in-the-blank worksheets seemed straightforward and kept us engaged despite the fact that our professors came to us on a projector screen while we sat in a lecture hall surrounded by construction.

Seven weeks:

Saturday class. The joys of bar review. My roommates and I piled into the car at 8:30 a.m. and headed to campus for our second Essay Workshop. Though I found the first workshop largely useless – I could, after all, read the outlines for each subject and issue spot at home – I wanted to do each assignment, go to all the lectures, and outline each subject so that in seven weeks I would feel as though I had done enough. (I had no idea at the time that it is impossible to feel fully prepared.)

Six weeks:

After less than three full weeks, we finished covering the MBE subjects. The remainder of the course would focus on subjects covered exclusively on the essay portion. Although the material seemed fairly straightforward up until this point, I panicked again.

Five weeks:

“Everybody passes!!!” Professor Honigsberg enthusiastically proclaimed on the first Performance Test Workshop. His lecture, largely consumed by stories of how you don’t need to know the law to pass and how students who had overdosed on sleeping pills or had appendicitis the week before the exam still managed to pass was fairly reassuring if not overly optimistic.

Four weeks:

After a whirlwind tour through Civil Procedure, I knocked on my roommate’s door to ask a question. When he opened the door, I caught a glimpse of the large whiteboard hanging above his desk. Big black writing read: 27 days. Less than four weeks left. Each day from that point on seemed to fly by.

Three weeks:

Although I thought Professor Epstein’s mnemonic device for remembering Contract issues was completely ridiculous a month ago, his “Armadillos From Texas Play Rap, Eating Tacos” (Applicable law, Formation, Terms, Performance, Remedies, Excuse, Third parties) was burned into my brain from his constant repetition and helped me structure my essays and spot issues better. It no longer seemed so ridiculous particularly in comparison to some of the mnemonics I had devised myself.

Two weeks:

The last two weeks, I cried, panicking that I didn’t know enough and couldn’t possibly learn enough before the bar exam. Ignoring the repeated advice that it was impossible to learn everything even if you had years to prepare, I frantically studied convinced that you could memorize all you needed to know. As I now know, no matter what you do, it will never feel like enough. The sooner you accept that fact, the calmer you will feel and the better your studying will go.

One week:

During the last week of the bar, I lost track of time. Without the structure of Monday through Friday classes, it was easy to lose track of the days of the week. “Today’s Wednesday, right?” I would think, trying to calm myself in the thought that I still had five more full days to study for the bar. Then, I would look at the calendar and realize that it was, in fact, Friday. Full panic would then ensue.

Post-Bar Advice:

Before I knew it, the bar was over. Three days, six essays, two performance tests and 200 multiple choice questions later I was done studying and writing. The actual test-taking was, surprisingly, the least tiring part. Adrenaline kept me going for those three days but I have no idea what’s going to get me through the next four months as I anxiously await the results. There is plenty of opportunity for second guessing yourself, but not a lot of room for it if you want to stay focused. I would question all of my past decisions — from going to an out-of-state law school to taking a day off back in June to go hiking. I also resented friends who were taking the bar in states that had 87 percent passage rates and the exam only lasted two days. Once I stopped second guessing myself, and put everything else out of my head, it became a lot easier to study.