The Reality

It's amazing how much this first couple of weeks in law school has changed me already. Not just the orientation of my blog (by the way, got an idea, which I hope to develop in tomorrow's post), but me, as a perspm. I'm becoming just like all those people I've aspired to be. I used to gorge myself on books and movies with attorneys, or even just law students as protagonists. Atticus Finch in "To Kill A Mochkinbird". The Rainmaker. Sydney Carton. Of course, some law students were a bit evil. Raskolnikov. Ted Bundy. But overall, I found the profession, and the people who decided to practice it pretty inspiring. I thought of "real" lawyers as people of exceptional integrity and spirt, more so than in any other profession. The ethical conundrums they have to face and resolve each day were mind-boggling, and yet the majority managed to extricate themselves from it with grace and dignity.

I sat there, on cold, rainy days, imaging myself among their number, poring over thick volumes with yellowed pages, researching, writing, a tiny figure, almost lost in a giant armchair at the desk... I'd be a lawyer. I'd be honest, and incorruptible, almost like Robespierre. Or like Honest Abe. And then one day, I saw "Sunshine", and that changed entirely the way I looked at my future role in the profession. "Sunshine" was a Hungarian-made film, which told the story of three generations of Jews, who lived in Hungary, from the beginning of the 20th century to the Hungarian Uprising. In order to succeed, they had to give up their name, ethnicity, religion, and suffered deprivations, humiliations, and tragic misfortunes on account of anti-Semitic developments. The grandson, however, uncovers his ancentry, and regains his Jewish last name, Sonnenschein, despite the disadvantage thereof. That movie stuck with me for many years, but especially moving was one of the earlier scenes.

The first part of the movie tells the story of the grandfather, who becomes an attorney, and eventually changes his last name to a more Hungarian "Schon", (which means the same thing), in order to come a judge. He's a great judge, very fair and with much respect for the law. One day, however, a small Jewish old man comes in. The old man's son has encountered trouble with the law, and the little old man grovels before the judge and begs him to be lenient to his son, on account of their common roots. "I'll do according to the law" - says Judge Schon, walking past the old man, without even looking in his direction. Indeed, in his opinion, everyone is equal before the law, or else the law cannot stand, and anarchy ensues. But the old man does not understand, and he spits in the direction of the judge. To the old man, justice is not in the letter of the law, but in the support of Jews towards one another, because in a non-Jewish country, there can never be real, objective justice for the Jews.

I tried not to think about that scene, tried not to imagine what I would have done if I were in the place of Judge Schon. Yet that particular legal matter was a legal decision just like any of the ones I'm studying right now. The United States is not the anti-Semitic Austro-Hungarian Empire, and fortunately, there is no need for such "remedies" as street justice here. However, as a future lawyer, I must have the ability to think about hypothetical professional ethical dilemmas. I must be able to question legal decisions and try to think of the way judgment should be rendered and why. The reason I put off thinking about that particular situation for as long as possible was because I knew that objectively speaking, the judge was following professional ethical standards he was taught in law school, and was trying to be a good lawyer, the reality sometimes twists professional ethics in such a way, that the spirit of the ethical guidelines sometimes differs from the letter. I'm afraid that according to the situation in the movie, at least, my sympathies were with the little old man, and not the judge.

I'm not planning to be a judge. Hopefully, I won't have to deal with such situations, and if I ever do, I'll have to look at an entire array of circumstances before making my decision (which is how our common law system differs from Austro-Hungarian civil code, thank goodness!) However, right now, I'm ridden with doubt. Do I have what it takes to be not only a good professional, but a lawyer with personal integrity? I hope so, but many decisions won't be easy. I see it already.

Perplexed,
Irina