Thank you, Next: My Rough Relationship with the California Bar

Although I’ve had some failed relationships in the past, I never thought my roughest relationship would be with the California Bar Exam. It is like a bad ex-boyfriend who triggered a lot of personal growth, but you are never going back to. Never. First, I should probably tell you my story. My parents stressed education at an early age. Although my mom did not have the opportunity to attend college and neither did most in her family, she was determined that I would. Anytime I gain another accolade, my mom says, her voice loud and proud, “Look at Gawd!” My dad, who has a more quiet disposition, is equally proud. His parents emigrated from Guyana to provide a better life for our family—the typical immigrant story. Going to college was assumed, not optional. From my mom’s side, I saw my cousins struggle in single-parent homes and inner city schools. And from my dad’s side, I was reminded that I was fortunate to be able to attend school in America. Although my parents made it clear that they loved me regardless of what I achieved, I felt like I had a responsibility to work hard and succeed.

Since elementary school, I’ve mostly done just that—succeed. In the third grade, I tested into the Gifted and Talented Education (GATE) program. And in middle school, I was elected Vice President of the student body and spoke at graduation. I ended the speech by quoting Ralph Waldo Emerson: “What lies behind us and what lies before us are tiny matters compared to what lies within us.” Something I stated at the time, but not sure I fully understood. I was focused on earning the next gold star. Accordingly, I earned a permit to attend Beverly Hills High School where I tested into the honors program, became a nationally ranked track athlete, and was recruited to run track at Stanford where I ultimately graduated with honors.

Upon graduation, I landed a paralegal position at a fancy, boutique patent litigation firm where nearly every attorney went to Harvard Law School. Naturally, I wanted to attend Harvard. Although Stanford was a humbling experience, I faced my first big academic roadblock when studying for the LSAT. I had difficulty balancing work with studying. And I did not understand logic games.  After two rounds of LSAT courses, work with a private tutor, and delaying my application for a year, I found myself part of Harvard Law School’s Class of 2017. I was fortunate and proud. My hard work paid off again.

At HLS, I surprised myself. Although 1L was one of the most challenging years of my academic career, I managed to do well enough in legal writing to become a legal writing advisor to 1L students and work at law firms both summers. My writing partner and I won the best 1L Appellate Brief Award. I was the Articles Editor for the Racial Justice Journal and the Community Outreach Chair for the Black Law Students Association, and I represented low-income tenants in housing cases. In law school, I was able to build all of my extracurriculars around service. I felt confident in my decision to become a lawyer. I would not only be able to help my family financially—I would be able to empower communities of color while doing work I actually enjoyed. Upon graduating in 2017, I could honestly say that I was living my dream.

After having endured endless cold calls, sleep deprivation, firm interviews, tons of reading, and all of the work it took to simply get into law school, the bar exam was the last hurdle. Studying was intense. Because all of my law school exams were open book, I hadn’t had to memorize and regurgitate information since college. Although I had moments of doubt and experienced anxiety, I knew that if I continued to work hard, I would pass.  After the exam, I felt uncertain about the MBE (i.e., multiple choice) portion, but I was confident in my essay and performance test answers. The bar was something that most HLS students passed on the first try. I did not think I’d be any different.

I was, unfortunately, different. In November 2017, my name did not appear on the pass list. I typed in my file and applicant number several times praying that there was a computer glitch. There was no glitch. I even hoped that I’d receive an email over the weekend that the graders made a mistake. There was no email. The sad reality was that I had failed the exam that determined whether I could practice law in California.

I was floored. I had just started work at a big law firm in San Francisco. I had a beautiful office, wonderful colleagues, an awesome secretary/therapist, and I was working on some interesting cases. I could not believe this arbitrary hazing process had wreaked havoc on my wonderful life. I did not lay out my entire resume dating back to elementary school to brag or boast, but to simply help you understand the pure shock I felt in that moment. It was the first time in my life where I worked hard and did not see the results. It was devastating. And I was embarrassed and ashamed. I felt like I had let my family and community down. As a Black woman, the burden was heavy. I’ve always put pressure on myself to excel, so that I could show that I belonged. To mitigate any doubts that I was an affirmative action case. Although I knew the California Bar was one of the hardest exams in the country, I felt like this was not supposed to happen to me. I no longer felt the proud feeling I had become accustomed to all of my life.

Because I believe I am still suffering from PTSD, I will spare you the details of my depressed state. But it was painful. As an optimistic person, it was difficult to navigate the spells of profound sadness and disappointment. My firm and colleagues, fortunately, were very supportive. Associates and partners provided pep talks. HR gave me six weeks paid leave and arranged for a very expensive tutor. I was grateful for the second chance. And there were friends from law school who had failed before and who were there to support me. It was comforting to have them in my corner as well as the overwhelming support of my friends and family.

In January 2018, I took leave from the firm to study for the February exam. I worked the hardest I’ve ever worked. I was extremely focused and disciplined. I got rid of all my social media and rarely checked The New York Times. I studied eight to ten hours a day with few breaks. But I struggled with anxiety because my job was on the line. When it was over, I was sure I had passed. I was happy to get back to my life as an associate.

I went back to work, got on some more interesting cases with substantive opportunities, and worked hard. I was winning again. At the end of May, my friends planned a bar celebration for the night my results came out. My boyfriend flew in from Boston.  I was still nervous, so he typed in my applicant and file number. I was not on the pass list. I was numb. And then I lost my job.

I was angry and frustrated. Two emotions that are very uncomfortable for me. I was angry that the bar graders failed me again on the essays. I was angry that spotting a few issues stood between me and my dreams. And I was frustrated that both my scores would have allowed me to practice law in almost every other state in the country. I was also sad because I lost a job I really enjoyed.

Despite these feelings, I had to pull it together. I had one week to decide whether or not I was going to take the July exam because it was already the end of May. I had to take it again. This was my dream. I studied with my boyfriend this time, which was extremely helpful. Although I did not use his Harvard Law Review brain enough, he was a great source of emotional support. It was a relief to no longer have my job on the line. And I figured out what worked for me, including relying heavily on BarEssays.com. It was another grind, but I passed. And it was amazing. I felt relieved, overjoyed, and proud of myself for overcoming a painful and unanticipated challenge.

I share my story because I think it is important to humanize success. Especially in an era where social media emphasizes our highs and rarely mentions our lows. A person’s resume does not tell his or her story. We all fail. Even if you are a high achiever who has never failed, you probably will at some point. Feeling embarrassed and ashamed is normal. You cannot, however, allow it to debilitate you. You have to move forward. If you dig deep, you will grow and learn from it. And you can learn some invaluable lessons.

Although I certainly (and unnecessarily) learned a lot more law having taken the exam three times, the most important lessons were not related to the law at all. While I will unpack these lessons in future blog posts, I think I’ve finally understood Ralph Waldo Emerson’s words—the words I recited at my middle school graduation: “What lies behind us and what lies before us are tiny matters compared to what lies within us” (emphasis added).

The past and future gold stars on my resume are nice. But they do not define me. Failing this exam made me realize that I attached too much of my worth to my success. This experience, along with the unwavering support of my friends and family, showed me that I am not defined by a test, my degrees, or awards. I am also not defined by my failures. I am defined by the perseverance, hard work, and optimism needed to achieve the successes and overcome the failures. I am positive. I am strong. I am resilient. These are innate qualities that I possess. They are within me. And they are most important. Ultimately, this rough relationship with the California Bar helped me better understand who I am. I am grateful for the lessons, but I am ready to close the chapter. While you rarely get closure after a bad relationship, taking the Attorney’s Oath is actual closure. In the words of Ariana Grande, “Thank u, Next.”