Category Archives: Personal Life

Reacting v. Responding

Well ladies and gentlemen, I am finished with my first year of law school. It has been the most difficult thing I’ve done thus far, but I have made it out in one piece. What I really wanted to talk about, however, is unrelated. I recently had a bit of a blow up with this guy I liked, and think that it was largely my fault. While I was upset at something he said, I do not think I handled the situation well. While talking with my friend Bill about this today, he pointed out that I had reacted rather than responded. When I asked what the difference was, he just smiled and said, “it’s subtle.” Mind you, my reaction was fueled in part by alcohol and a late night celebrating the completion of finals, but I can not use these factors as a justification. Bill went on to explain that a response is something measured, something that doesn’t come immediately, but rather is a product of some deliberation. So my question to the readership is, how do you make sure to respond in situations where your first instinct might be to react in a dramatic fashion. What are your techniques for making sure you don’t do or blurt out what you ought not? In the cold sober light of day it is easy to review where one went wrong, but when passion and pride are involved, the animal instincts often spring into play, often overpowering out better nature.

Facebook for Kindergardeners

I was recently pointed to an article about social networking that appeared in the New York Times in September of 2008. The author’s focus was the meaning and effect of the new sorts of relationships built via services such as Facebook and Twitter. The whole article is worth a read, but I was particularly intrigued by some of its concluding thoughts:

Yet Ahan knows that she cannot simply walk away from her online life, because the people she knows online won’t stop talking about her, or posting unflattering photos. She needs to stay on Facebook just to monitor what’s being said about her. This is a common complaint I heard, particularly from people in their 20s who were in college when Facebook appeared and have never lived as adults without online awareness. For them, participation isn’t optional. If you don’t dive in, other people will define who you are.

This is the ultimate effect of the new awareness: It brings back the dynamics of small-town life, where everybody knows your business… “It’s just like living in a village, where it’s actually hard to lie because everybody knows the truth already,” Tufekci said. “The current generation is never unconnected. They’re never losing touch with their friends. So we’re going back to a more normal place, historically. If you look at human history, the idea that you would drift through life, going from new relation to new relation, that’s very new. It’s just the 20th century.”

Psychologists and sociologists spent years wondering how humanity would adjust to the anonymity of life in the city, the wrenching upheavals of mobile immigrant labor — a world of lonely people ripped from their social ties. We now have precisely the opposite problem. Indeed, our modern awareness tools reverse the original conceit of the Internet. When cyberspace came along in the early ’90s, it was celebrated as a place where you could reinvent your identity — become someone new.

“If anything, it’s identity-constraining now,” Tufekci told me. “You can’t play with your identity if your audience is always checking up on you… She laughed. “You know that old cartoon? ‘On the Internet, nobody knows you’re a dog’? On the Internet today, everybody knows you’re a dog! If you don’t want people to know you’re a dog, you’d better stay away from a keyboard.”

Still a dog,
~WD

Cyclical Fortuities

You know how sometimes you just need to get out of town? Thankfully, that was yesterday. To start things off, the Environmental Law Society had a trip to Turtle Cove research station in Manchac, LA. The first interesting observation from that trip was the highway, I-55, itself. Because the land is so swampy, the entire interstate is elevated for miles. The twin two-lane spans are supported by struts residing in a waterway which runs through the flat and rather wild land. It must have been quite a feat of engineering to get elevate such a roadway, especially given the fact that the land out there was described by our host, a biologist, as “like pudding.”

At the research station we got an overview of the wetland ecology and then were taken on a pontoon boat tour through an old logging canal. While the land is currently largely denuded for miles, we learned that it used to be densely covered with cyprus trees; however, due to the value of of the cyprus, entrepreneurial individuals had basically clear cut large swaths of territory by forging canals and using ropes and barges to haul trees away for processing. While the area most certainly looks differently than it would have a century or two ago, much of its function is the same. Currently a key wetland habitat for fish, reptiles and birds, the area, as currently managed, provides protection against storm surges. Though we never caught sight of a large alligator, we did see a baby one (about three feet long.) The boat trip was exciting and most definitely a change of scenery from urban New Orleans.

As we arrived back at school late in the afternoon, I noticed some friends sitting at a table laden with food in the foyer. I had forgotten that yesterday was the last day of the week-long public interest/human rights film festival. Earlier in the week I had seen one of the films, a documentary on those first elections held in Iraq back in 2005. The documentary was brooding and somewhat incomplete, but provided some great footage from the country that like of which we do not get from our mainstream media. Friday’s film, obviously the capstone of the series, was a short documentary on the Jena 6. You may recall, the Jena 6 incident was a racially charged tale from a small Louisiana town. White students and black students had gotten into a series of fights over a de-facto whites-only congregation spot in the courtyard of the town’s high school. After some white students were severely beat by black students, six of the later were charged with attempted murder. The incident sparked national recognition and prompted tens of thousands to descend upon the sleepy town to protest what many saw as a racially charged miscarriage of justice.

Following the film, a speaker told of his organizing work in bringing a few busloads of concerned, mostly black students, from Texas to participate in the rally. Then, at one point in his talk, he called Michael Bell, one of the Jena 6, putting him on the phone over the room’s sound system for a live q+a. While the audience consisted of mostly law students, there were some other activists present who seemed to take great pleasure in hearing from Mr. Bell firsthand.

While I enjoyed the documentary and the ensuing talk, I did have some reservations. I was concerned with the film’s one sided presentation of incarceration statistics. Though I am aware that a disproportionate percentage of blacks are in prison, I am not convinced that such statistics lead to the conclusion that our justice system is inherently racist. While racism may play a role in sentencing disparities, the film was intellectually dishonest by not even attempting to examine the other factors leading to high incarceration rates within the black community. Furthermore, just because this kid found himself on the defensive of an overly-zealous prosecutor does not make him a hero; in fact, I was inclined to infer that he was a bit of a thug at the time this event happened. However, hearing from him on the the phone was exciting, and he mentioned that he was getting ready to apply for college and wished to move on and not allow the incident to define him. Many of the activists in the room, however, seemed content to have him remain a cause célèbre.

Following the film, I ran into my buddy who was heading over to the Chabad house. Chabad is a worldwide group of Orthodox Jews which attempts to help young Jews connect with their religion. While I am in no way interested in becoming Orthodox (I like my shellfish, pork and modern clothing too much, thank you,) the Chabad house sponsors some fantastic Shabbat dinners and holiday services. Figuring I was a bit overdue, I joined him for a delicious meal (salad, matzoh ball soup, chicken, desert, etc…) At the dinner we met a prospective law student who had been attending the first of three visiting weekends (from which the administration kept me far away.) She was a bright young Jew from Great Neck who was weighing Tulane against a few NYC schools. I also got to speak with her mother who was born in Romania. Foarte interesant, nu? The night continued with drinks at a new bar just a few blocks from my home, (verdict: a little trendy and overpriced, but great young-adult vibe,) and a ceremonial smoking of the hookah with new honey flavored tobacco.

Given the major ups and down of life as a law student, a day like yesterday comes as a great relief, reminding me that there is a larger universe beyond the reading room and that as I go about my daily activities, so too does the world. Welcome back.

The Storm Before the Storm

I swear that I bring drama wherever I go. When I flew home for winter break (a short two weeks compared to the month-long excursion enjoyed as an undergraduate) I came in at the height of a major snowstorm. Whereas I left New Orleans in weather appropriate for pink shorts and flip-flops, I arrived in Boston to driving snow and biting winds; over two feet fell within a few short hours of my arrival.

My greeting upon arriving in New Orleans the other day was no less dramatic. Though I managed to arrive to clear skies, it was not long until black clouds rolled in, bringing torrential downpours and brilliant lightning displays. After listening to the drum of the rain on the roof, I opened the kitchen door which faces the backyard and sat on the sill, watching as the sky illuminated in great bursts and the rain fell in a staccato strobe. As the gutters began to spill over and the water pooled around the house, I was brought back to summer camp in Maine.

My favorite year there I lived in a cabin adjacent to a large and somewhat inclined field. One July day we sat inside as the forces of nature raged outside. Once the lightning had passed and we received a tentative all-clear from our counselors, we all rushed out into the field and proceeded to play a game of football, quickly becoming drenched and muddy. Word spread, more came, and the game soon became a free-for-all; but we did not care, ours was a divine kind of dirty.

Back to the present the water courses down, down, and I can not help but wonder where its eddies might take me if I would only let them.

INTJ

Have original minds and great drive for implementing their ideas and achieving their goals. Quickly see patterns in external events and develop long-range explanatory perspectives. When committed, organize a job and carry it through. Skeptical and independent, have high standards of competence and performance – for themselves and others.

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What are you?