Am at training for Student Org #2. The same guy is here that was here last year, lecturing about the UN.

The thing about Student Org #2 is that most everyone involved is deeply, intensely involved in the topic. They are passionate and dedicated. They Believe.

I don't.

I mean, of course I believe in human rights. Who doesn't? (Well, for one, those soulless corporate law firms you'll be working for this summer, hk, who help companies finance projects that displace under-educated and poor natives without so much as a by-your-leave. That's who.) But I'm not particularly passionate about it, or dedicated. I don't believe I can have much of an effect. I don't Believe.

So I feel rather separate from all this, and would like to leave. But I can't.

Yesterday, I had two interviews with Mighty Big Firms. Both of my interviewers were middle-aged white men who struck me as nice -- as far as corporate law firm partners who are and have been totally removed from the rest of American society for 15 years can be -- but also arrogant and snobby. In my first interview, I mentioned that I was generally happy with law school, though I had my criticisms, including wishing that the curriculum was more practical. I said that Co-Intern this summer, who goes to a western state school, received a much more practically based education there, and Interviewer said: "At ... other schools ... that aren't Crimson, that may be the case. At a place like Crimson, they're not just turning out lawyers, they're turning out people who are going to be chief justices or CEOs of companies, or the head of the CIA." And this excuses the school from teaching us the practical skills that the vast majority of students will be using during their summers and for at least a couple years out of school? You can teach critical reasoning skills and still ensure that people know what they're doing. And what's with the attitude about non-Crimson schools?

A similar attitude marked my second interview, in which the interviewer clearly had not read my resume before that moment, because he read it OUT LOUD for the first 10 minutes (of a 20-minute interview). I asked him why he'd moved firms last year, and he busted out with a long explanation about the future of international law, listed a few US law firms that did do international work, paused, and then said: "But that's getting into --" and he made a motion with his hand indicating "bottom" -- "firms. Don't tell anyone I said that, though."

Reading over the last two paragraphs, I realize that the interviewers may not seem so bad as I make them out to be. And they aren't. But they are very much creatures of privilege and power and they take themselves very seriously, and whatever connection they had to normal people is long gone. They have More Important Things to Think About.

Shit, I'm going to be really unhappy this summer, aren't I?

I talked to someone in Student Org #2 half an hour ago who worked for a Mighty Big Firm this past summer, and she encouraged me to split the summer. I explained that I didn't think I'd get the full breadth of experience and would have to leave just when I was getting the the full view of corporate life, and she nodded. "I thought that too," she said, and that's why I didn't split, but I regret that now. You're going to see what it's like within a few weeks, and there ARE places that will hire you for 4 to 6 weeks at the end."

So... I dunno. I'll look into splitting -- which means I'll go through the on-campus process now and mention that I might be interested in splitting my summer, and then in the spring apply to a couple public interest places, I guess. I talked with my financial aid officer and discovered that almost all of what I make this summer will simply replace my grant from Crimson, so there's little financial incentive to spend the whole summer at a firm. I'd only be doing it to see what it's like -- and to keep my options open after graduation.

But this is all very tiresome.

Last night I went out for a drink with the female Destroyer from my workshop last year. They (the 2 Destroyers) have broken up, yet are still good friends (possible? I think not). I'm tempted to spell out the conversation we had, but I promised confidentiality, so I'll just say that I offered my theory of Destroyer-dom, and she found it most interesting.

Co-Intern wrote about my relationship with Destroyers in an email recently, and I found that (as well as nearly everything she says and writes) to be so funny and cogent that I'll repeat it here: "I think you are probably the kind of person that drives destroyers crazy. 1) you can identify destroyers, 2) you understand their systematic destructive tactics, 3) you are not destroyable because you do not take on the role of destroyer or destroyee, and destroyers are powerless outside of that
relationship. You are like the Jane Goodall of destroyers. You observe, and you note characteristics. Maybe that is a good topic for your first novel??"

Hee!