Uncertainty and apprehension froths in the air, signaling the end of the formal articling recruit and the beginning of fresh chaos. Ashy, sunken faces of third-year law students are starting to thaw and, sometimes, they imbue with colour.
For most, the journey was rigorous and eventful. Had the first two years of law school aptly prepared students for this moment? Of course. Vigorous revision of black letter law and pedagogy aimed at “thinking like a lawyer” baked into the insurmountable pressure of the legal profession have allowed most students to get in touch with the executive skills necessary to ace interviews.
The alternative finding that students “lose themselves” in the throes of academic stress is misguided. Most students come into law school with a clear and discernible interest in what they want to do. As for who they are? You can learn in class. Classes are brimming with opportunities for personal development and self-deliberation. Trusts, taxation law, securities regulation, and commercial law enable students to become well-versed in the lexicon of much that will permeate their life. Students learn who they will be, not who they are. If who they are is important, there would be a prerequisite of sorts. Something to glibly add as a notation on your transcript.
If personality is what wins the game, why would the playing field exist in libraries and classrooms? Is the game meant to be played or won? These are the kind of punctilious and unreserved thoughts lingering on the minds of law students.
In the event that words probing whether someone secured an articling job form on your tongue, I suggest letting them dissolve in solidarity of a greater cause: silence.