By Jessica Mahon
Loyola Law School Los Angeles graduate
July 2008 California Bar Exam
I arrive for my first day of BarBri 20 minutes early and all the good seats are already taken. I settle for the seat next to the class stenographer. It requires climbing over her equipment, but offers a nice view of the stage.
It feels like the first day of law school all over again. As I look around the room, it seems like everyone is chatting with a friend. In a sea of 200 faces, I don’t see anyone I know. Unfortunately, the friend I planned to study with decided to move back to the East Coast, which means that she is spared the fun of preparing for the California Bar Exam. It also means that, for the time being, I’m studying on my own.
“California is considered one of the most difficult Bar exams in the country,” the lecturer begins. “The bad news is, that’s true.
He then proceeds to review the suggested study schedule. Every single day of the provided study calendar, weekends included, is covered in tiny black ink. Just looking at the calendar puts a knot in my stomach. I’ve only been studying for 20 minutes, and already I feel overwhelmed. As the lecturer moves on to the many joys of IRAC, my mind drifts to my brand new cappuccino maker. A second speaker takes the stage to tell us about the Multi-State, but the only thing my brain cares about is coffee, coffee, coffee.
After lunch, I make it home in record time, eat and spend a few hours reading the evidence outline to prepare for tomorrow’s lecture. I decide to try a few multiple-choice questions. I’m disappointed that I get the majority of the questions wrong, but I cheer myself with the thought that I have two more months to improve my score.
As the days go by, spending eight hours a day without any real human interaction begins to get to me. During the day, I find myself chatting with the cat. He does not chat back. I begin to worry that I’m becoming one of those crazy cat ladies. Fortunately, my husband comes home by six each day and has gotten good at feigning interest in my stories about the day’s lecture or the practice questions I tried.
On Monday of week three, I finally run into someone I know (while standing in line for the bathroom, of course). Five minutes of actual conversation inspires me to call my once and former study buddy and see how her move went. Unsurprisingly, she tells me that moving cross-country and then immediately starting BarBri isn’t fun. When our conversation degenerates into a discussion about the Equal Protection Clause, I decide it’s time to get back to studying.
By the beginning of July, BarBri is winding down and I finally feel like I’m retaining some of what I’ve studied. On July fifth, my stress levels are the lowest they’ve been since I started studying. I decide to join a study group to keep my motivation up.
Study group actually does motivate me to do extra practice exams and questions. Unfortunately, I have a hard time keeping my focus for the full two-hour session. I’m definitely not a night person, so studying after eight p.m. is akin to torture. We meet twice a week in the local Barnes & Noble Café, which always smells like the most delicious freshly baked chocolate something-or-other. At our third meeting, I give in and ask about the smell. The cashier tells me that I’ve been drooling over the triple chocolate chunk cookie. I have no choice but to buy one. With my chocolate craving under control, I feel like I actually contribute something to the group (other than distractions).
With one week until the exam, I decide to cut back on studying. I’m feeling so burnt out that I’m actually doing worse on each subsequent practice exam. I realize that if I don’t rest now, I might be too tired to get through the exam. I still put in a few hours of studying each day, but I also go out to lunch with friends, plan my post Bar vacation and spend time with my husband and our cat.
Following a sleepless night, I’m up at six on day one of the exam and out the door in record time. Even in L.A., the road is nearly empty at 6:30 in the morning. I arrive at the exam location more than an hour early, easily find my exam room and eat a muffin while I wait for the exam to begin.
About 45 minutes into essay three, a race-horse contracts question, the room begins to shake. I look up and realize that I am seated under a giant crystal chandelier. It’s swinging violently back and forth. I’m not sure whether I should keep typing or dive under the table. From the back of the room, someone shouts, “What should we do?” “Shhhh,” the proctor warns. I realize that we’re not going to be evacuated, so I do my best to keep typing. Eventually, the shaking stops. I can’t help laughing out loud. When the first exam session ends, I have survived three essay questions and my very first earthquake.
The California Bar exam is three days long. All together there are six essays, two performance tests and 200 multiple-choice questions. By day three, I realize that the exam is designed to last precisely as long as it would take for the average person to collapse from exhaustion. My back aches, my eyelids are heavy and I have heard rumors that examinees are having nervous breakdowns in the restrooms. And then, just like that, the exam is over. The room erupts into cheers and applause. I head home to celebrate.
