The Bar Exam

Now that it has been several days, I think I can talk about my experience. Taking the exam itself wasn’t too bad. Actually, it seemed a little anticlimactic considering that three years of law school and months of studying all culminated in this two-day exam. Overall I felt OK about it, or more importantly, I didn’t feel any worse about it than anybody else. I was happy that I had forced myself to practice writing out so many essays because an increased skill in typing semi-related nonsense on a topic for thirty minutes at a time definitely came in handy.

The first day we were supposed to arrive at 8:00 to check in. When I showed up and saw 400 potential new lawyers just for the state of Utah it became very clear to me why I have yet to find a job. We had to wait in long, poorly marked lines to show our ID and get our assigned seat. I was interested to see how differently everyone would be reacting to the stress of the impending exam, but there was really just one way: anger at having to wait in line for so long.

I’ve always wondered how test proctors are chosen. For this exam there was a whole team of them that wandered up and down the aisles and one was even stationed in each bathroom. For the most part they were friendly and helpful, but the head test proctor was something else. My guess is that this woman doesn’t get to tell anyone else what to do for the entire rest of the year (I’m sure she tries to boss her cats, but you know how willful cats can be) so when she gets her chance to be in charge during the two days of the bar exam she milks it for all it’s worth. She listed a whole host of things that could result in your exam being taken from you mentioning no less than 3 times talking while she gave her instructions.

Once we were seated inside the room we had to endure thirty minutes of instructions that had been simplified to the point that Russian-speaking monkeys taking the exam could understand them. The first day was the essay part of the exam and 90% of us had chosen to pay the extra $150 for the privilege of typing the essays on our computers. The instructions on how to start the software were laughable (although no one did laugh for fear of losing their exam). The instructions included a warning that basically said if you have never used a computer, don’t know how to use the computer in front of you, don’t know what the internet is or how you’re going to upload your answers, then you should probably hand write your exam instead of typing it.

As we waited in line to check in the second day I joked with my friends how this day was bound to be better than the previous because 1) there would be no Property essay (as we had one the day before) and 2) we wouldn’t have to listen to excruciating instructions for half an hour because no one was using computers that day. Boy was I wrong about number 2. If I had thought the how to use your computer instructions insulted my intelligence, I was in for a real treat with the how to fill in your information on a scantron instructions. I honestly think that the head test proctor heard me make that comment to one of my friends and took it as a challenge to outdo herself. Day 2’s instructions can be summed up with: “Fill in only the portion I have instructed you on and then look up at me when you’re finished so I’ll know when everyone is ready to move on. Working ahead of the group will only result in delay for everyone else.” We also had to provide a small writing sample in cursive. I’m not sure what the point of this was. Maybe so they can compare it with a writing sample from the fifth grade (the last time any of us wrote in cursive) to make sure the named applicant was the one actually taking the exam?

Although I could not be happier at being done with the bar and being done with school probably forever, I can’t help but feeling nostalgic about the many times I’ve spent cramming for an exam with my friends and feel a little sad that I won’t be having anymore experiences that quite compare.