MICHAEL CAPITANO
<Contributor>
During law school, it’s easy to lose sight of oneself. As exams approach and the craziness of 1L weighs on our minds, I find myself going through old things that I’ve written. It’s common and completely expected that we question ourselves about even belonging in law school. Everyone who is born into this world asks: “Where do I belong?” It’s evident from reading my past reflections on life that I’ve been slowly developing my answer to that question. In doing so, I feel persistently satisfied with who I am.
So, as a remedy for our existential woes, here’s a quick look at what the history of existentialism can tell us about discovering who we are and where we belong. In my view, its main goal has been to find space where we can perform and exercise our creative power—a place we can walk through and say “this is my home.”
Søren Kierkegaard, in The Sickness unto Death, writes: “…in relating itself to itself and in wanting to be itself, the self is grounded transparently in the power that established it… the [very] definition of faith.” Translation: when we are honest to ourselves about who we are, and we desire to be who we are, we gain the ability ground ourselves in the power that established our identity—the source of meaning in our lives.
Kierkegaard is the grandfather of existentialism. As a Christian, his answer to the problem of meaning and identity rested in faith in God and emulating the behaviour of Jesus Christ as the key to selfhood. Jean-Paul Sartre’s formulation a century later acknowledged the reality after the “death of God” – the loss of any meta-narrative source of meaning – that Friedrich Nietzsche boldly proclaimed at the end of the Enlightenment. Our Western culture had managed to replace Religion with Reason, and Reason turned out to be nothing more than a god in a lab coat. A re-evaluation of our morals was upon us. Nietzsche had been misunderstood in his provocative writings. He was asserting that we didn’t have to accept the values that had been forced upon us. His greatest concern was about clearing a path so that we could forge for ourselves the place where we belong.
When Sartre claimed that we are “condemned to be free” he had given up on the notion of any type of guiding principle from a higher power. Human beings became fully responsible for any meaning they derive from life, and thus, necessarily, for finding their “home.” That is, we have the choice to be who we want to be and live in good faith in our decisions. After rejecting those old values, we have the power to shape our own role in the world.
The next step in this progression is into Postmodernism. Its goal, as Modernism continually reborn, to paraphrase Jean-François Lyotard, was to create meaning by combining and incorporating into our lives’ fragmentary sources of knowledge and guidance in new and different ways. It turned meaning-finding into a game: we had to keep on experimenting with new ways of being, thrust into a state of continual becoming.
Postmodernism formed out of the need to put an end to tyranny—to do so, it pushed everything out of the centre—so that even the littlest voices could be heard. It was a time for new ideas, new movements, new roles to be fulfilled. But when our little voices spoke out into the centre, they went unheard. When we’re all on the outside, no view is privileged, no view matters. It left us hopping around on the outskirts, with the unintended consequence of never being allowed to settle down into a place and role we could call home.
But today, in my view, we have found the solution to the problem Postmodernism created. We have begun to clear space around us. We have turned away from the centre and into each other. When we enter into a new role our concern is focused on the power to perform—to sincerely and genuinely express ourselves through the work that we do. Our little voices grow stronger as they move out into a shared space of meaning, become heard, and are reflected back at us with encouragement and support.
In making decisions about our lives, we look for space that allows for the ability to be who we are, through our own narratives and ones we can identify with. We want to share our stories, laugh, and as we settle in, have the strong desire to feel comfortable again in our own skin.
The decision to go to law school is the intersection of our stories. But that doesn’t mean we have abandoned our pasts. It’s easy to forget what motivated us to come here in the first place. The concern over grades and the B-curve, OCIs, and articling positions compound our fears that choosing law was a mistake. We need to transform law school: from being the tyrant controlling our lives into a shared space of growth—a world to experiment with new things in the continual development of our voices.
Reflect for a moment on what we’ve all been doing. We’ve joined clubs that pursue the causes we support; we’ve made friends with people who share our values; and hopefully, we take time to enjoy our hobbies. Remember to appreciate your stay here so you can turn Osgoode Hall Law School into your home.
I’m not claiming I’m onto something particularly insightful. I’m just offering up a little reminder on what is so easy to forget at times. The base of my message is this: stay positive, stay strong, turn to the source of meaning in your life—stay empowered! When I reinterpret the Kierkegaard quote above in our contemporary context, that’s how I read it: as you accept yourself and keep yourself rooted in whatever functions as God in your life, you won’t lose sight, you won’t lose faith; keep on emulating the person you genuinely want to be.
Recall our Ethical Lawyering discussions on role morality and creativity. Lawyering does not have to be about being a hired gun or playing the role of the heartless professional. If we worked at incorporating ourselves into the profession, we could come up with creative solutions to making the world a slightly better place.
We all want to succeed as law students. As we move into exams, don’t forget: there’s always some wiggle room. Through the stress, let yourself show, even just a teensy bit, even for a moment.
As an exercise, go through the steps the development of existentialism has taken. Ask yourself the following questions: “What inspired me to be who I am? (Kierkegaard)”; “Do I need to re-evaluate the life I have been thrust into? (Nietzsche)”; “What kind of person have I chosen to become?” (Sartre); “Have I incorporated into my life the new ideas I’ve been exposed to? (Lyotard)” “Have I made a space for myself that allows me to share who I am?” (You)
So when you lose sight, are stressed out, and begin asking yourself what you’re doing here in the first place, take a step back, remember who you are, and spend some time recreating the space you love to find yourself in. It’s important for your happiness and sanity (and you’ll be thanking yourself when you get your degree).