NiMA

I’m a quitter. There, I said it. In our society, we’re taught to not give up, to finish what we’ve started, to resist the urge to walk away. Anything to the contrary is considered failure. And yet, despite the fact that I’ve quit some important things in life, I don’t feel like a failure. If anything, I kinda feel like a badass, mostly because I believe quitting is sometimes more difficult than staying in the game.

I’m a dropout, a law school dropout to be exact. Fortunately, I finished college, where I majored in journalism, and eventually business school, where I concentrated in marketing. But between the two, there was that one year of law school, a year that’s hard to explain on my resume but one that I’m going to try to explain here in my blog.

When I entered college, journalism seemed like a fitting choice for a major, since one of the first things I learned in high school, thanks to my role on the staff of a little newspaper called The Bear Facts, was that I could write. But by the end of my junior year in college, writing no longer felt like a challenge, and I was ready to move on. I had two options: change my major or go to graduate school. I picked the latter and decided to apply to law school. The last sentence summarizes exactly how much thought and consideration went into the decision (I basically approached it as though I was picking a new major). So I spent the summer between my junior and senior year taking the LSAT and applying to law schools.

When I returned to college the following fall, I decided to take some advertising and marketing courses to finish out the credits I needed for my degree. Two interesting things happened that year: 1) I fell in love with marketing and advertising; and 2) I started to hear back from law schools. When I was accepted into the University of Texas School of Law — a top tier school that charged in-state tuition — I felt I had to follow through and see what this law thing was all about. It was too good an offer to pass up, so off to law school I went. But before I did, I spent the summer after graduation interning as a graphic designer in the Houston Chronicle’s marketing department (in addition to writing, my experience at The Bear Facts had taught me design, a skill I use to this day!).

In August 1997, I moved to Austin, Texas, to attend law school. It was the best of times; it was the worst of times. My new roommate, Cheryl Rubenstein, and I quickly hit it off. And within my first week there, I had reunited with Jason Luong, a friend from high school. It was going to be a great three years.

With Jason Luong at UT Law ((Dec 1997)

Of course, there was the whole “first year of law school” thing, an experience that started with “Hawkins v. McGee” and ended with me losing a disproportionate amount of hair (don’t worry, it grew back, but not before I stressed out about the fact that I was going to go bald before 25!). A grueling year, but I needed a challenge, and I guess there it was. The problem, however, was that it just didn’t feel right. I tried hard that year to find what I could love about law and always came up short. I was going through the motions… spending countless hours studying, interviewing, interning. Even though students were dropping like flies around me (law school is notorious for first-year dropouts, mostly because it’s full of 22-year-olds who, like me, don’t always think things through), I didn’t allow myself to think about leaving.

But, as I’ve found on numerous occasions in life, my subconscious self was ahead of my conscious mind. There was the time I was standing at the department store register, purchasing suits for my upcoming interviews and internship, when the thought crossed my mind: “Wow, I’m spending a lot on these suits. What if I never wind up using them?” Just as quickly as the thought came, it was gone, leaving me wondering where it came from.

Then, there was the time I found myself sitting as a summer intern in the offices of a federal district court judge, looking at the clock and thinking, “It’s only 3… when will the day end?” It was a stark contrast to the the feeling I had experienced while interning for the Houston Chronicle the previous summer, when I often found myself looking at the clock and thinking “It’s already 3… where did the day go?”

Finally, there was the time I walked out of an interview at a Boston law firm, feeling exhausted and drained. It was an unusual feeling, as I’m generally at ease during interviews, so it gave me pause. As I walked to the coffee shop in the building’s lobby, I realized why I was feeling this way: I had spent the last hour lying, making up answers to questions about why I wanted to practice law, why I wanted to work for that law firm, why I cared. Deep down, I DIDN’T WANT TO PRACTICE LAW, I DIDN’T WANT TO WORK FOR THAT LAW FIRM, I DIDN’T CARE!

I was being untrue, not just to the attorney who had interviewed me, but to myself. So for the first time, I allowed myself to think, “What if I didn’t do this anymore?” And just like that, a huge weight was lifted from my chest, leaving me feeling so light that I didn’t just walk… I flew to that coffee shop! It was one of the most powerful feelings I’ve ever experienced, so acute that I remember it to this day.

Much to the surprise and dismay of family and friends, I took a leave of absence from law school just as I was about to start my second year, never to return again. It wasn’t easy… everyone around me was convinced I should stay in school (after all, quitting was akin to failing), forcing me to stand up and believe in myself, to be strong and resolute about my decision.

I’m not sure how I found the strength, but I’m so glad I did, because it was one of the best decisions I’ve ever made. Without passion and purpose, I would have been an average lawyer at best, and I never want to be average. That being said, I don’t regret that one year in law school, because it taught me a very important lesson early in life: I’m a square peg; trying to fit in a round hole will only dull my edges.

Fortunately, it wasn’t as an expensive a lesson as it could have been, thanks to in-state tuition…