When I was younger I always dreamed of being a lawyer. As time progressed and stole the years of my youth, I began to believe that I didn't have the stuff of lawyers. I had no drive, I wasn't that smart, I wasn't socially blessed. But as time progressed, I returned to school, brought my grades up, changed my major, and saw the light at the end of the tunnel. Now sporting a 3.0, I began to look at eventually conquering that last windmill. The Mock Trial Team. I envisioned a group of overly dedicated scholastic slave drivers who were hounded by family and an internal need to succeed. I found that in order to become a member of a team, one simply had to attend the requisite course and show aptitude and interest and you too could become a member. So I joined a class called Trial Evidence and Procedure believing it to be a traditional theory based socraticly taught course. Which would be followed by a tryout for the team and my eventual ascention. I could have never known the reality. The class is a hands on primer, a collegial carbon copy of the technical school model. A hands on dirty hands version requiring the students to participate and stage different mock trial scenarios and gain experience through performance. I thought of it as a Theatre class. And then I got the fever. For a short time I got a burst of desire to excel and propel my team to the heights of the class. Nothing would stop our domination! And thats when I realized we were all college students. The very students that wrote papers last minute, drowned themselves in alcohol, and played games on their computers during class were now going to shift, become responsible, meet deadlines, and be available. After heading the group until the first trial, I realized the folly of my thinking. I would have to take a much more hands off approach. so I stepped back and analysed my next move, reassigning roles within the group, and allowing others to test the waters of leadership in the hopes that added responsiblility would engage the members. After weeks of preparation and conflicting schedules we performed against other class teams for spots in upcoming competitions. Three of our group were chosen for outside competions alongside the "masters." This is it! We've made it! Now we're with the Big Boys! Excited for this chance to learn from the "Old School," I waited for our first meeting. In the interim, members dropped out, last minute replacements were found, and schedules were worked out. The meeting came and went and I realized what was what. We were all just students (albeit some with experience), and everyone was trying to find their niche in a conflicted and confusing process. I also learned that the win is not in a great performance by an individual or even by a lawyer and his/her witness. The victory is in the ebb and flow. The whole court case should sound smooth and fluid with bumps that are minimized and marginalized and clear cut easily understood ideas. The defense needs to discredit the prosecution, and the prosecution needs to befuddle the defense. The closing ties everything together, and imprints a lasting impression on the mind. The final result is a story told. And that is victory. Victory is in the story. But that was not my only impression. These people work hard, and play hard. I heard jokes, and stories, and saw drinking and obscenities, and I realized we were not just going to Duke to kick some ass as stiff necked tight collared automatons. We were going to Kick ass, Take names, and get silly afterwords. And that's alright too ;)
