The often unsurprising response from most people on campus when I tell them my major at Hopkins is, “You don’t want to be a doctor?”
To those who are unaffiliated with Hopkins or know it only through the fictional Dr. House, it is sometimes assumed that Hopkins is simply an institution to breed doctors.
While my majors and minors have been involved in an academic game of musical chairs for the last two years, my decision to be pre-law has remained firmly intact.
As a freshman, I intended to major in International Studies until one day of macro-economics scared me all the way to the Dell House, the then-location of the statistic-less Writing Seminars department.
Perhaps it was my decision to pursue creative writing that led me to form friendships with people largely interested in pursing MFAs in fiction or careers in journalism.
Whatever the deciding factor, though, I have yet to befriend more than a handful of individuals interested in going to law school.
That isn’t to say that Hopkins is an environment bereft of law school hopefuls.
The Pre-Law Society, this week’s Law School Fair and our 92 percent acceptance into law school are testaments to the fact that indeed, Hopkins does educate future lawyers.
This past summer, I stayed in Baltimore to prepare for the LSAT.
I knew that taking it in October, as a junior, might isolate me from bonding with other same-aged Hopkins LSAT takers who might opt instead to take it in February or June of their junior year.
However, this worked best with my schedule and, being told time and time again that the score one receives on his or her LSAT is incredibly important, I devoted my summer to this test.
One of my many visits to the MSE found me making small talk with a friend who had stayed on campus to take an engineering course.
He looked at my LSAT book and nodded to a friend of his and said that we should become friends as she was currently prepping for the test as well. At first, this seemed as silly a suggestion as “Hey, you should be friends with my friend because she has blonde hair too.”
However, as the weeks progressed, I realized that having someone in the same situation as me would be greatly welcomed.
When I signed up to take an LSAT prep course that was to be held across the street from the Chipotle on St. Paul, I was excited at the prospect of meeting more Hopkins pre-law students, even if they may not be in my year.
After all, I figured that taking a class near the Homewood campus would be convenient for those of us planning to take the October LSAT.
The first day of class I realized that I was mistaken in my assumptions; my class was largely comprised of adults and UMBC students.
One does not enroll in a prep course for the social experience, however I had hoped that I would be able to bond with some Hopkins kids over our experience as pre-law students at a research institution.
As the Princeton Review prepared me for recognizing argument flaws, my friends crammed chemistry and calculus in preparation for the MCAT.
The small few of those who did not take the MCAT instead attended various celebratory dinners for their friends who had finally taken the test that might decide their future.
In preparation for the test, these individuals would devote days to apartment cleaning to clear their minds, or would get a massage to induce some semblance of relaxation before the examination.
For the month of July, there seemed to consistently be a group of students preparing and stressing and de-stressing in response to the MCAT.
As the LSAT draws closer, I find myself wanting to imitate their relaxation and pre-test date strategies.
However, instead of participating in the ritualistic preparation with other like-minded test takers, I am going through the motions alone.
My deep cleansing of the apartment will instead look neurotically-motivated rather than a pursuit of inner nirvana.
If I wish to have a “thank goodness the LSAT is over” party, it will be more of a one-person celebration surrounded by people who don’t quite know the relief of being finally finished with the test.
The morning of the test, I will wake up alone and trek down to Towson University by myself. (Side Note: For the one pre-law student reading this, signing up three months in advance is not early enough to secure a spot at the test location of your choice.)
And when time is called for the essay section and I finally leave the examination room, I will call my friends who will respond with a, “Finally, you can be social again” instead of a “Man, wasn’t that experimental section a killer?”
I have sympathized with those who have taken down the MCAT, but I have no idea how it feels to sit down for more than four hours and regurgitate a lifetime’s worth of scientific knowledge.
Likewise, I don’t expect my friends to be able to understand the minutiae of difference of “some” and “many” and “all” in LSAT-world.
I would never say that attending Hopkins has in any way inhibited me from pursuing a career in law.
The almost-guaranteed admission into relevant classes such as Law Psychology, Law & Literature and Constitution and the Criminal Justice System has been great in re-affirming that indeed I do want to pursue a legal life.
However in stressful times such as now, the three weeks prior to the LSAT, it is hard to explain my worries to my psych major roommate or my MCAT-taking friends.
Cramped on C-level with books of logic games that look marginally psychotic when drawn out, the LSAT has served to push me into a realm of solitude that few of my friends completely understand.
I don’t wish to have more legally-minded friends, but I do wish that someone would understand my pain when I grumble about multiple-variable games without any deductions.
