“May I please the Court?”
“You just might be able to Counselor but I’m not that kind of judge and this is not that kind of court!”
I started my journey of a thousand steps towards advocacy skills with one large fumbling misstep. The John Black Moot Court competition was a trial by fire for me. I tried and my inflammatory arguments went up in smoke. My approach to appellate arguments was quite like the invasion of
Iraq - a campaign of shock and awe. The judges were shocked and opposing counsel was left saying “aw, you’ll do better next time!” Co-counsel dynamic was something I didn’t consider when preparing for Moot Court. ‘Borat’-tinged “High Five!!” and “Very Nice” exclamations every time my co-counsel successfully handled a tough question were not looked upon fondly by my judge in the preliminary rounds. Being a true lawyer-in-training I can say that since it was a split argument, my co-counsel was at least half responsible for our collective failure. She had some prime vignettes for our judge in the second round of the competition: “Your Honor, sanctions against counsel won’t work because we all know lawyers lie all the time and file false affidavits frequently.” Not something you’d want to say in law school competition full of lawyers and lawyers- to-be. Especially not when your judge is on the local bar ethics committee. When that line fell there were more dropped jaws in that room than when we all found out what was on Clarence Thomas’ Coke can.
Moot court, however, has taught me quite a few lessons. First and foremost is that poor communication is at the root of most lawsuits. What aggravates the situation is that basic words often have remarkably different meanings for different people. ‘Failure to Perform’, for example, is a whole other ball game to a urologist (no pun intended). Moot Court also taught me that framing your argument will more likely help you convince the court to rule in your favor. Take renowned social commentator Larry the Cable Guy’s thoughts on the Second Amendment and the right to bear arms: “Guns don’t kill people. Husbands who come home early do.” Having the right presence and demeanor carry significant weight in the appellate courtroom as well. Who knew that updating your status on Facebook to “
Shannon is spankin’ the Appellant in the Heritage Room” while the argument was in session was not necessarily a good idea? Calm, respectful responses to the judge’s questions are also the order of the day - “Yes, your honor. It was a strange verdict. I don’t know what the trial court was smoking but it must have been good because it looks like they shared it with the Appellee”
The competition also taught me a lot about diction and tone. Did you know, for example, that when in doubt, it is best to call your judge “a pompous cantankerous ass” in a muffled under-your-breath voice rather than in clearly enunciated semi-tones? I guess that’s the whole point of being in school. That’s why we’re here: To learn and to make mistakes. That way, we will be brutalized by the grading curve and with any luck land an assistant to the assistant-public defender job. Potentially making less money than working the fries at MegaBurger and getting to defend the guy accused of indecency with a potted plant. Then we’ll remember that things could be worse. A lot worse. That’s what law school and my first year as a law student has taught me. As my time as the 1L humor columnist comes to an end, I look back at all that I’ve said, all I wanted to say and all the things my editors were simply not willing to publish. I would like to say, things will get better for you next year. That the next year in Legalese will bring a humor columnist that will be much better at keeping the gags-a-going. Hopefully the new columnist will be someone who has wittier wise-cracks, more malapropos mummery and radically more raucous repartee. I could say that. But frankly, my dear reader, I’m not that kind of law student and this is not that kind of humor column.
