Following up on my post yesterday, here is a link to an article in the Jackson Clarion-Ledger about last night's Mississippi Innocence Project fundraiser. The article provides additional information about the dinner and the Innocence Project, and it reports that John Grisham and Scott Turow will be speaking on Wednesday, October 24, at my alma mater, Northwestern University School of Law in Chicago. (See link to event notice here.) It's also worth noting that my former Professor Larry Marshall, now at Stanford, was also involved (along with Scott Turow) in the Jeanine Nicarico case (see my previous post). Marshall served as counsel for defendant Rolando Cruz.

With high profile scholars, practitioners and celebrities involved in the Innocence Project nationwide, and with dedicated personnel and supporters on the ground here in Mississippi, I sincerely hope that leverage can be brought to bear in Mississippi on the subject of wrongful convictions. Historically, the subject has not been a high profile issue here.

For a striking recent image from Mississippi's sole maximum security prison, Parchman Penitentiary, see this link. For more information about Parchman, which is a work farm, see here. Parchman is where wrongfully convicted Cedric Willis (see my last post) served time.

Tonight I attended the inaugural fundraising dinner for the newly-established Mississippi Innocence Project. Originally a branch of the Innocence Project in New Orleans, the MIP is now housed at the University of Mississippi School of Law in Oxford, Mississippi. (The national Innocence Project's website is located here.) I have not had much time to reflect on the event as of yet, so this post is essentially a recounting of my observations from the evening. Not a news report per se, but also not an opinion piece. Something in between, I suppose.

I attended the dinner for two reasons. First, as I have stated before on this blog, I am the faculty adviser for the Mississippi College School of Law's student-run Public Interest Law Group (PILG). Second, I attended because Mississippi is badly in need of public interest law support. It's a poor state with a relatively high crime rate and a wide gulf between the haves and the have-nots. So organizations like the MIP need support and assistance from entities like PILG and my law school.

Tonight's keynote speakers were Mississippi author John Grisham and Chicago author Scott Turow. They were eloquent, witty and passionate, which is no surprise--but the evening's most moving speakers were Dennis Fritz of Oklahoma and Cedric Willis of Mississippi, two men wrongfully convicted of separate crimes. Fritz and Willis each served 12 years in prison before being exonerated and released. Willis's mother also was there, sitting at a table near me.

Grisham and Turow related how they became involved in Innocence Project activities--Grisham through his writing and Turow through his law practice. Grisham's 2004 nonfiction book The Innocent Man details the story of one man's wrongful conviction. Turow, who continues to practice with the Chicago law firm of Sonnenschein, Nath & Rosenthal, represented defendant Alejandro Hernandez in the infamous Jeanine Nicarico case. Grisham and Turow spoke of wrongful convictions and the dangers of certain types of scientific evidence (junk science), eyewitness testimony, and use of informants for testimony. Nothing new there, perhaps, but after all the purpose of the evening was not to present cutting-edge testimony, but rather to raise money and garner support for the cause. And given that there was a crowd of about 500 paying guests, that goal was accomplished. Not bad for an organization that is only 2 months old.

I was particularly struck by the contrast between Willis and Fritz. Willis, who is now about 32, was 19 when he was arrested and convicted. His overwhelming emotion on display was joy--joy at being free, at being proven right, at seeing something like the Innocence Project take hold in his home state. Fritz was a more conflicted figure, with compassion, anger, and sorrow on display, sometimes all at once. And who could blame him, really. It does make you ask yourself how you might react to--and indeed how you might survive--12 years of incarceration. It is one thing to hear about wrongful convictions, or to concede the logic that a system based on reasonable doubt can make egregrious errors. It is quite another to meet people who have been wrongfully convicted and hear their stories.

For me, one occurrence put tonight's event in perfect perspective: I said hello to Scott Turow and had no idea who he was. Didn't recognize him. Now, I know what Scott Turow looks like. I've seen the man before, and I have seen his picture scores of times. And I went to law school in Chicago, where he is a bit of a celebrity. To be fair, he had a beard tonight, which he did not use to have. (Check out his website, on which he is cleanshaven.) But still. There I am, holding the door for famous author Scott Turow, and instead of introducing myself and trying to make a connection I just say, "Hey, how's it going?"

So much for my big moment. And so much for eyewitness testimony.

I'm in the midst of a series of posts on the movie Michael Clayton (here and here), but two news items from the ABA Journal warrant a detour.

Item #1: Professor Kibosh and the Evil Laptop. First, on the ever-popular (or not) subject of laptop bans in classrooms, there is an article in the ABA Journal concerning the increasing popularity of laptop bans in law school classrooms. I've blogged about the subject numerous times; look for my posts labeled by the "computer" category. And of course every time I suggest that a ban might be justified in some circumstances, I get angry reader comments.

I am undecided on the subject, and my current position on the matter is that if I can't decide whether a ban is desirable or not, then I should just leave matters be. Perhaps I should let students vote on the matter? I don't know. But this article points out yet more perils of laptop use: IM harassment in class and obscene videos.

Virtual Law Practice. This article really, really interests me. Apparently at least one law firm is setting up shop in the online 3D gaming world of "Second Life." As Craig Jones of the UK's Simpson Millar explains, "Many of our clients have injuries which can make it difficult for them to meet us at our offices. Others are too busy. Second Life is a way of 'seeing' your legal representative and receiving advice without coming to our office."

So in other words, this is real legal advice, provided in avatar-to-avatar format. How very fascinating, and it raises interesting questions. In a very large sense, this is no different, substantively, from communicating with clients by e-mail or phone. But what if avatars can one day be programmed to provide advice independently (provided, of course, that a fee is paid)? Is that different somehow than having general legal memos available for download for a fee? Is it different from the practice of having canned legal advice that is modified, around the edges, for a client, and then charging the client for it? Could a law firm establish a subsidiary company to provide general "legal" (and perhaps strategic) player advice pertaining solely within the Second Life world? Law firms set up subsidiaries quite often to provide business and personal services-related advice, so why not in this context?

Also, what if a law school set up shop in Second Life? Is this a viable means for long distance (or e-commuting) education? Would this run into trouble with the ABA? Stanford law professor Lawrence Lessig and Judge Richard Posner have in fact made appearances on Second Life, so the intersection of legal academia and the online world is not farfetched by any means. I don't play Second Life right now (but boy, it intrigues me), so for all I know there is already a law school in the game.

And perhaps most interestingly, what if an avatar-professor decided to prohibit her avatar-students from using simulated laptops in her Second Life classroom?

Makes my (non-simulated) brain hurt.

**Photo credit: Steve Garfield**

The Socratic Method takes a lot of flak from law students and lawyers, many of whom regard it as some form of hazing/hiding the ball/rite of passage. Those are not entirely inaccurate criticisms--by which I mean to say that while I think the method has its place, I never much enjoyed it as a student. For that reason--and for the more important reason that mixing up teaching methods helps (I hope) keep class more interesting and is more conducive to learning--I do not rely on the Socratic Method all that heavily.

I am writing about the Socratic Method because of today's Dilbert comic strip. It was, yet again, about the pointy-haired boss. When I read today's strip (11/25/07, which is available in the Dilbert archives here), my first thought was, "Wow, I used to have a boss just like that." (And no, I am not telling you who it was.)

And then I started thinking about this Dilbert strip in the context of the law school classroom, and it got even better. And funnier. First you need to read the strip. And then you need to read on.

When Dilbert's boss says "I need you to do something, but I don't have time to explain it," that's akin to the feeling law students sometimes get when called on in class under the Socratic Method. That is, you read the cases, think you know where the material is going--and then you go to class, and BOOM, you have no idea what is going on. All kinds of ideas are being extrapolated from the text by the professor. And then you get called on socratically. You hear the words, but what do they mean? What's the answer? In fact, what's the question?

Then the professor asks some sort of leading question, which is intended to facilitate class discussion and critical thinking, but it smells and feels like a trap. Which is sort of like Dilbert's boss saying, "I'll give you just enough information to send you down the wrong path." Like I said, a trap.

Then the professor asks a follow-up question that reveals a potential flaw in your answer or argument. Like I said, a trap, and you have to think your way out of it, shooting from the hip all the while. Which is like Dilbert's boss then saying, "After you do it wrong I'll treat you like you're some sort of idiot . . . [and] then I'll put you through the embarrassment of undoing everything you did." You are faced with revising your answer, in front of the whole class. Not a lot of fun. It's a good skill, mind you--lawyers need to be able to think on their feet and argue their points (we are advocates, after all)--but it is often not fun.

And of course, the ultimate judgment on what students say and think is--grades. It is a common feeling for students to think that a course has been one big game of "hide the ball," and that final exams, especially in the first year, are a crapshoot. Only after you have taken them do you get the chance to figure out if you guessed right or not.

So, Dilbert is funny. Ha ha. But law school is serious business. A lot of what this strip suggests, in the Socratic context, is that law school classes would be better with less hiding of the ball, more engaging teaching, more frequent testing (whether actually for grades or mock exams,) and a lot of other changes. I've actually written an article about it, which I will be posting about soon. In the meantime, we can learn how to improve law schools from Dilbert.

I heard a story on NPR's Morning Edition today that has to be blogged about. Boston University Law Professor Mark Pettit sings in his Contracts class. What's more, his songs are parodies of pop songs, and they are about the cases he teaches in Contracts. I suppose the experience of being in his class, when he sings, must be like learning the law from Weird Al Yankovic.

There is a good bit of scholarly literature on the subject of humor in education, and how humor improves learning. For a list of some scholarly articles on the subject (all of which are presumably not funny), see here.

Pettit is admirably shameless. People remember something when they laugh about it, and words set to music or in poetry are easier to remember. And as the NPR piece demonstrates, Pettit has engaged students both in and outside the classroom: they pay attention in class, they think about the subject of Contracts outside of class, and they write lyrics for Pettit to perform. That's what's called active learning, and it improves the quality of education. And it makes the experience more fun.

Maybe I should have a Contracts lymerick contest next semester. Or for that matter, why not now? So here are are two lymericks-in-progress for my next class, on the subjects of (a) Leonard v. Pepsico (the video referred to in the case is located here) and (b) Empro Manufacturing Co. v. Ball-Co Manufacturing, Inc., 870 F.2d 423 (7th Cir. 1989) (I can't find a free link to the case). Those who have nothing better to do--and those who do have something better to do but would rather do this--can complete the lymericks and post as comments. Feel free, of course, to revise the lymericks as needed. And it goes without saying, but I will say it anyway: keep it clean!

Re PepsiCo:

Pepsi Co did firmly reject

Leonard's claim for a Harrier Jet

[Fill in the rest?]

Re Empro:

When its letter of intent was rejected

Empro said "contracts must be respected"

[Fill in the rest?]

Amazing though it may seem, at law schools around the country it is final exam time. With that in mind, I thought I would post some exam-taking advice. The exercise is largely the same each year, however, so rather than re-inventing the wheel, here are links to some previous advice on the subject.

Perhaps the place to start is with my post entitled Reflections on Law School Exams. It includes general advice and links to some of my prior exam-related posts. Another useful post on this blog is on The Pros and Cons of Exam Typing. Students--and professors--sometimes assume that typing an exam is always better than writing one. I don't agree--even though typed exams are by definition more legible (something I of course appreciate).

There is a lot of exam advice in the blogosphere, and it's easy to get overwhelmed by the sometimes conflicting advice given. But two additional sources (not from this blog) that I strongly recommend are the following:

Law School Exam-Taking Tips. This excellent post on Concurring Opinions by Professor Daniel Solove at George Washington University Law School covers a lot of useful ground. 1Ls (and 2Ls and 3Ls, for that matter) should take his advice to heart.

Bad Answers, Good Answers, and Terrific Answers. This very useful post on the Volokh Conspiracy is by Professor Orin Kerr, who is also at George Washington University Law School.

Law School Exam Advice from Pitt's Jurist website. The University of Pittsburgh's excellent Jurist website lists excellent links to information on taking law school exams. There's a lot of useful information here.

Good luck studying, and good luck on exams!

Time sure flies. It's hard to believe it has been over two weeks since my last post, which is unusual. The reason, as anyone who is in or has been to law school might suspect, is that I have been neck-deep in final exams to grade. 278 essay questions from two classes, to be exact. But who's counting? Not me, since I just finished them.

At the end of every semester, I remember the adage that we professors teach for free, but get paid to grade. Grading is not fun. But it is, of course, very important. And it is, of course, my job. People's grades--and to some extent their professional futures--depend on my grading. So I take the task extremely seriously.

Yet I would be lying if I said that reading answers to the same essay questions over and over and over again is scintillating, because it's not. Still, the exercise holds its own sort of twisted appeal. For one thing, no two answers are exactly alike. The organization is different, the discussion is different, and the conclusions reached are different. That's no surprise, perhaps--and yet I am always struck by it. I tell my classes that often in the law the answer to a question is "It depends"--which gets a few chuckles and, I am afraid, a little eye-rolling too. People prefer clarity, and the study of law often does not provide that. There is rarely a clear-cut, unequivocal answer in the law, and there are always arguments to the contrary that can be made. Lawyers are advocates, after all.

What really strikes me during grading season, though, is that once in a while a student comes up with something unexpected in answering an essay question, and it works really well. The majority of the time, this sort of reaching is just that: reaching. It doesn't get a lot of points, since it typically veers the answer off target. (In economic terms, it's an opportunity cost.) Yet sometimes, an insight is made that is truly clever, and it demonstrates that the student understands the material at a deeper level. Reading answers like that are some of my favorite moments in teaching.

I should put a caveat here. I am NOT encouraging students to be wildly inventive in their exam answers. No, no, and no. The professor is not always trying to trick you. Identify the issues, summarize and apply the law, and reach your conclusion. You will always get more points for this than for answers that stray into wild flights of fancy. (Unless the class is a "Law and Creative Fiction" seminar, I suppose. It depends, right?) But if something strikes you as a point worth making that is not an obvious one, and you have time, then make it. It may be the nuanced observation that makes the difference between an A and a B. I had several such episodes during my exams in law school, and I got an A every time. If only it had happened on every exam . . . .