The first year of law school is notoriously difficult. Throw in a worldwide pandemic that forced a transition to virtual learning, and that is a new level of added stress. But I often overlook the ways law school is and has been particularly stressful as a Black student. I’ve been in “elite” predominantly white educational institutions since I was 12. That’s to say that I’m not new to this. But there is something particularly alarming about facing microaggressions from faculty who are and classmates who will be “legal leaders” of our generation. So I’m sharing five microaggressions I experienced during my first year at Columbia Law School, so that at the very least I can get real, open, and honest about the kinds of things Black students are forced to deal with all while trying their best to make it through law school.
Granting Permission
Going into constitutional law, I already knew we were going to discuss sensitive topics, especially in regards to race. Early in the semester the professor made a disclaimer that there may be words in Court opinions that though derogatory and no longer acceptable to say, were once words of common usage and are still included in the documents we read for historical purposes. This professor went on to say that if any student were ever asked to read aloud a portion of an opinion that included such words, they were granted permission to do so.
When the announcement was made, it felt like an awkward moment in class, not only because discussions of race in many educational settings tend to be awkward, but also because this non-Black professor, in essence granted permission on a matter that I believe she did not have the authority on. Quite frankly, I do not believe it was a matter for the professor to decide. The “it’s historical” argument is getting old, and I really believe this was an opportunity to acknowledge the history while also establishing clear boundaries within the classroom. As far as I can recall, this policy was never invoked, however it was a moment in time that made students, Black students in particular, unnecessarily uncomfortable.
Bigger, Larger, and More Prone to Commit Crime
In criminal law we had reached the topic of premeditation when we were discussing United States v. Watson. Bear with me because in order for you to fully grasp the situation, I have to give your a short briefing on the case. The basic facts of the case were that the defendant was charged with killing a police officer and the government had to prove premeditation. According to the facts of the case, the defendant, after running away from a police officer who then followed him into the building, got into a scuffle with this officer, disarmed him, and shot him. In short, the takeaway from the courts ruling is that it wouldn’t take much at all to show premeditation and charge this (Black) 19 year old with first degree murder.
Shortly after discussing this case, we discussed another case whereby an elderly woman carried out the “mercy killing” of her sick husband. Then, we as students were asked to provide theories for why a court might treat these two cases differently, finding for premeditation and charging with first degree murder in the first case, but being reluctant to do so in the second.
A student offered the theory that the defendant in Watson was described in the opinion as being five inches taller and significantly larger than the police officer, whereas the woman who carried out the mercy killing probably does not hold the same stature. Another student offered the theory that the defendant in Watson had initially been approached for his implication in a crime, showing that since he was already apprehended for a crime, he’d be more likely to commit crime in the future, whereas the woman who killed her old husband would not. The professor accepted both of these theories without further questioning or interrogation.
Affinity Groups as Self Segregation
Near the end of the first semester, the Black Law Student’s Association hosted a Finals Study break, kindly sponsored by law firms across New York City. If you’re not familiar with what sponsorships on a professional school level look like, let me just tell you this is not your average college style study break. Think an entire classroom full of firm swag (umbrellas, notebooks, hand sanitizer, highlighters, chapstick etc.) food (cupcakes, cookies, Starbucks gift cards) and even massages. Needless to say it is a study break you’d want to be at. After I stopped by and enjoyed everything the break had to offer, I relocated to a common area in the law school to study.
I was studying with a friend and classmate of mine, when we overheard a nearby group of students, none of them Black, discussing and airing out their grievances after some of them had gone to the BLSA study break. I won’t go into details but for about 20 minutes, my classmate and I listened as they discussed why affinity spaces are no longer necessary if we are truly going to learn from one another. I particularly recall one student putting forth an argument that we don’t come to law school to feel comfortable or safe, as way to support the idea that affinity groups coddle students and keep them from interacting with other beliefs. I’m sorry, but I guess I didn’t know my race was a belief.
Low Participation
At the end of first semester, I was disappointed in my grades. I thought I had worked very hard, yet still fell short of my academic goals. I decided to step out of my comfort zone and meet with a professor to discuss my performance on the fall exam so that, at the very least, I could know how to do better in the future. Near the end of the conversation, I asked what I could have done better on the exam to earn a higher grade in the class, and the professor had little to offer. He noted that I was one of the stronger exams within the range of that letter grade and my final grade could have gotten bumped up to the next gradation had I participated more in class. He then went on to note that the TAs in the class spoke very highly of my participation in weekly review sessions, which I attended almost religiously.
In the moment, I began to blame myself for not being more proactive about speaking up in this class, which was my smaller section class for the semester. But I then I also remembered how often I took note of the fact that among the approximately 30 students in the class, I was the only Black woman. I wonder how things might have been different if, instead of being quick to point out my low participation in lecture despite the fact that TAs vouched for my participation elsewhere, my professor thought about how being the only Black woman in his class might have impacted my participation.
Not Even My Name
Once we made the transition to virtual learning, there was a day in one of my Zoom classes where I had volunteered to speak. If you’re familiar with any component of Zoom, you know that your name appears on the screen for everyone to see. However on this day, the professor proceeded to call me “Ellie” or “Elli” (who even knows how it’s spelled because it’s not even my name) multiple times. My name was on the screen and on his roster and the professor still got it wrong. There are PLENTY of other experiences in this class regarding name pronunciation, but I won’t share them because they were not my own experiences. It’s very easy to brush this off as nothing more than a harmless mistake, but these issues (confusing names, incorrect pronunciation, or even not attempting to pronounce names) kept recurring for students of color in particular.
Final Thoughts
As a concluding thought, I want to note that the problem in all of these situations is that the burden to speak up or correct usually lies on the Black student. So now, I not only have to sit through class like everyone else trying to retain an overwhelming amount of information, but I also have to deal with racing thoughts on how uncomfortable I am, and if I should speak up. For many of these in-class experiences, especially the most egregious ones, I can clearly recall losing focus or interest for the remainder of the class, often while my some of my white peers seemingly retained focus with ease. As long as this is the reality for Black students in law classrooms, and schools like Columbia Law School do nothing to even attempt to address it, the playing field will never be remotely close to even.
“Speak up for those who cannot speak for themselves; ensure justice for those being crushed.” Proverbs 31:8
