i presume that the intention behind the endless reading that underlies the law school experience is an effort to have students explore, contemplate, and debate the virtues found within centuries of legal history, thought, and analysis.

and far be it for me to challenge my judi-licious forefathers, but if they gave me a red pen and free reign over the 1-L curriculum, next year's class would have far less homework.

when i glance in my classmates' books, i see colored-coded highlighting implemented to call attention to facts, issues, and holdings. i see deep personal reflections scribbled in the margins. and i see profound relishment in their rereading federalist 78.

and when i look at my own class preparation of cases, i realize that i have spent hours on a case without a single analysis; just notes on comma splices, language redundancy, and incorrect noun/verb agreements.

in short: my peers come to class having prepped to debate a case; i come to class having edited it.

i suppose you can take the girl out of communications, but you can't take away her red pen.

despite my attempts to fight the inevitable "shared suck" of first year law school, i think that part of the transformational experience is a process of discovery ... discovering that lawyers and judges use 500 words when 100 will suffice.

when i applied to law school, my personal statement offered insight into my passion for language -- which as a communications profakesional and language word smither -- still holds true. i then extended this argument to explain that my motivation for pursuing a law degree was an interest in learning the language of jurisprudence.

and i guess i'll learn the language eventually. but it turns out that brevity -- and rosetta stone learn-a-language-in-six-weeks programs -- are a modern luxury not afforded to law students.