How to make friends with a professor, hang out with your friends, and still finish work at 5 pm
Tom Collins (2L)
Honghu, our Co-Editor-in-Chief, recently approached me to write a piece about my summer. He alleged that he had pitched this idea to me earlier in the year. [Editor’s note: I totally did.]
Here is what I actually remember: I was on a patio with Honghu and a couple of other friends, when someone proposed doing an investigative piece. I would be sent into the field to live life like a “real law student.” Apparently, spending all day reading and then eating leftovers in front of a Late Show re-run wasn’t that.
After a brief brainstorming session—and another round of beers—it was decided that, despite being vegetarian, I would go to Hooters for all-you-can eat wings. Then I would hit Oasis Aqualounge: “a sexual adventure playground”. Pending confirmation that Zanzibar had a breakfast buffet, I would also go there to pay homage before it closed (?) or sold (?). No one was entirely sure what was going on with the storied Yonge Street strip club. It will come as no surprise that the impromptu committee was composed entirely of men boys, well into an evening of drinking.
For a moment, I admit, I actually got into the idea. Some mindless debauchery seemed bound to produce a story worth telling. But, as soon as I learned that single guys cannot get into Oasis, the whole reverie revealed itself for what it really was: a joke. I only wish that I had checked before getting a 40-Year-Old Virgin-style man-o-lantern wax and standing in line for half an hour!
When Honghu heard my recollection, he clarified that he had meant a piece on my work as a research assistant. That made more sense. But for that story, we have to begin in the VIP section at the Brass Rail (I kid).
Having failed during the January 1L recruit to woo any employers with my impressive collection of Ps, I was a little concerned about how I would pay my summer bills. I had nearly resigned myself to the idea of becoming the president of a successful company when my property law professor, Jim Phillips, advertised that he was looking for a Research Assistant (RA). I had worked as an RA in the past and my experience seemed applicable.
Prof. Phillips was writing about legal history and I had studied art history. Prof. Phillips’s approach to legal history is more realistic than formalistic—rather than limiting his perspective to jurisprudential application of legal principles, he also looks at the societal factors that influence the law’s development.
My art historical background took a similar approach: one inquires into the context in which the work was created to help decipher its intended meaning rather than using a fixed set of aesthetic principles identified through a teleological analysis of artistic progression. With a little bit of charm (i.e., references to Monty Python), I got the job.
I was relieved but that bliss did not last long. Despite feeling confident about my grasp of property law, I only got a P in Prof. Phillips’s class. Now, just about every non-professor at this school will have told you that Ps are good. No. In a relativistic grading scheme, Ps are mediocre. So, I was suddenly confronted by the dreadful feeling of fraudulence. I was worried that Prof. Phillips, who admitted to being surprised by my grade, would secretly doubt his hiring choice. While I was thankful for my recent introduction to contractual obligations (I knew that I would not be terminated in favour of someone more promising) I was also anxious to redeem myself and to prove that I was a capable employee.
Mercifully, everything worked out and this ended up being one of the best summer jobs I have ever had. Although it took me a few weeks to regain my confidence, I found that working as a research assistant was a pleasant, manageable, and fulfilling job.
First of all, the work itself was fascinating. In 1L, we are afforded only a cursory look at the law. You do not touch on legal history except in tangential ways. Yet, legal history is a great way to contextualize what you are learning. It is also frequently entertaining.
For example, did you know that in 1891, when Clara Brett Martin was trying to become the Law Society of Upper Canada’s first female student-at-law, William Ralph Meredith, future Chief Justice of Ontario and perhaps one of the most outspoken opponent of women’s rights of the late nineteenth century, argued that inherently fashion-conscious female litigators would never want to wear the same official robes as their male counterparts? Meredith succeeded, but, in 1897, Martin was admitted to the LSUC as a barrister and solicitor—the first woman in the British empire to receive this designation.
That is just one of the ninety-or-so daily facts I posted in “The RA Array”, a Facebook group that I created for my fellow research assistants to coordinate their schedules. And that leads me to the second reason that working as an RA is fun: you get to work with your friends. There were about thirty RAs, almost all of whom were friends of mine. That made for a uniquely collegial atmosphere at the library, where I spent nearly every day. It is also worth noting that the library is mostly empty in the summer. So, you basically have a quiet, air-conditioned workspace where you can hang out with your friends, who, for once, were not stressed and tired.
That sanity is yet another benefit of the RA lifestyle. If you have ever been on a Bay Street firm’s page for summer law students, you have no doubt read that “law is not a nine-to-five job.” What they mean by that euphemism is that you will never see your family or friends ever again.
All I am going to say is that I loved being kicked out of the library at five o’clock because it meant that I was done for the day. I could go home, make a nice supper, have some wine, watch some TV, read in the park for a couple of hours, maybe get a few drinks with my friends, and go to bed whenever. I was free to do whatever I wanted. I do not mean to suggest that working as an RA entitles you to lounge around all of the time. You do have to deliver, but once you do, you have plenty of time to pursue your other interests.
Finally, working as an RA gives you the opportunity to get to know your professor(s) on a personal level. This may be less true for casebook RAs, who cycle through several professors over the summer, but I was fortunate enough to work with Prof. Phillips for four months. That gave rise to a great working relationship and a familiarity that is all but impossible to develop in a classroom. I attribute some of my own experience to the serendipity of good chemistry, but Prof. Phillips is also just a friendly person. Regardless of who you work for, you have access to a compelling reference, should you need it.
Working as a research assistant, then, has all the makings of a pleasant job. It’s interesting, it’s manageable. It’s community-building and it allows you to foster meaningful relationships with key legal theorists and career contacts. If you are as lucky as I was, it may also give you the chance to substantially expand your marketable skills: Prof. Phillips invited me to co-author a paper with him on the origins of the division of powers in Canada—an amazing experience. Look for that paper in a few months.
10/10 would RA again.
