9 The Michigan Daily-ThL sday, September 7, 1978-Page 25 Grad School: Di I adm rh e impossible. dream ing a toe in pre-med water Y SELBST olfactory senses constantly plugged up sounded vaguely dirty to me, but what to observe Chanukah with my family cked in by the lure by the repellent odor of formaldehyde. did I know, being in effect a freshman stayed up all night for nights on end., I. pp By JEFFREY nit it. I was suc ly. I All of the calculator. I spent three years here earning a history and English degree and then I succumbed. I won- dered what all those feverish freshper- sons were doing in their rooms late at night, burning the midnight desk-lamp bulb, and listening to concerted low wails during exam weeks. I could not-be a true University of Michigan student without at least once having dipped my toe into the waters of pre-med. So in I went. Kersplash.I I worked a year in two psychiatric hospitals in the Detroit area and con- ceived the fantastic notion that I wished to spend the rest of my days with my ACTUALLY, THE turning point came for me when I was assigned at the first hospital to organize a staff educational seminar on the subject of toxic psychoses. So I read and read, and researched and researched, and came away with a voluminous array of facts about the effects of various chemicals on the functioning of the brain. What did I want to do with my medical education? Why, pursue this matter fully, of course. So I took Chemistry 123. Where I learned about oxidation and reduction and alpha and beta emissions (which 'The trend the past few years-and I assume that it is still the same, is that clearly about half the students coming in toy with the idea of being ia pre-med.' -Charles Judge, Counseling Director ,- EEEEMEEEEEEEES Msa again). And I settled in for the long haul. I also took Biology 112, at least for the reason that it was required as much as the fact that biology has something to do with the brain (which is all I knew about it before 112). As long as we didn't have to cut up frogs, I didn't mind. I loathe amphibians; low, wet slimy things. EVERYONE IN MY classes - the lectures and my biology lab - was fresh-faced and about seventeen. There I was, my fifth year hanging around this city (far too long) and subject to the innocent and curious stares of these freshpersons. I offered one a ride home after lab the first week, and he asked me what dorm I lived in. I said that.I hadn't lived in a dorm for a couple of years. He replied that he thought all fir- st-year students lived in dorms. I told him that I was a senior, sort of, and he looked at me with wide, child's eyes and asked, "Well, then, what are you doing here?" A fine question. One which occurred to me, over and over, throughout the term. Counting enzyme reaction rates, calculating molarities, drawing up little Punnett squares, listening to Professor Sally Allen rhapsodize about recombination, all the while I questioned. And studied. I never studied so much in my entire life! I grew crabby and actually snap- ped at my three apartment-mates. I became reclusive. As December drew nearer, I couldn't manage to get away social activities ceased. Frantically I studied notes. Drew diagrams (though not once dissected a revolting frog), and calculated. I wore out six batteries in December alone. There I was, bur- ning the midnight desk-lamp bulb. And sweating. Chills. Fever. I STUDIED so much for my Biology final that I got an A- in the course (after carrying a flat B average); but I ended up thereby neglecting Chemistry, in which my A- average sank to a B+. Win some, lose some. My average for the term was a not unpleasing 3.6, and I felt fulfilled. Why, with a little work, I cold really knock myself out next term and get a 3.9! I could really get into it, lie some I knew. I could sabotage friengs and cheat on exams! Just think of thie vistas that were opening to me! Next term arrived, and the epiphany came. The teaching assistant in Biology Lab told us that we would have to ha e lab kits. "Whatever for?" Iasked. "Decapitation," he said solemnly. "OH, OF WHAT?" said I. He looked at me. "Didn't you read the lab manual?" he said. "We're going to cut up frogs." Now I'm an English major. I'm graduating in August and I'm going to be unemployed. Don't sweat anything anymore. There's good money to be made on welfare. Jeff Selbst is a former Daily Arts editor. Daily Photo by JOHN KNOX An ardent pre-med carefully examines her experiment results for the trying prequisite-chemistry. Tetrials of pre- law 0 By STEPHEN SELBST It's hard to think of something fresh to say about getting into law school. If 'you've read this far, you can probably recite the gloomy statistics which make admissions seem impossible and have heard even more dismal accounts of post-law school job hunts. However, I am prepared to offer evidence into the record proving that getting into law school need not become a routine of Saturday nights in the library and spring vacations resear- thing history papers. I DIDN'T plan on going to law school while I was in college. That's a trifle disingenuous; let's say it was in the back of my mind so I hedged my bets and took the LSAT my senior year, joining three hundred other sweaty human beings for a five-hour marathon that might determine our futures. The less said about the exam, perhaps the better. But a word about preparation. Many people believe that preparation, either through solo study, or in organized classes, enhances per- formance. I wouldn't know. I bought a fat red, white and blue preparation book after my junior year and vowed to spend the summer studying. I even took the book to Washington, D.C. with me, which is 'where I worked that summer. It gathered dust there; I never heard the soft crack of the spine being bent open for the first time until the night before the test in October. At that point, less than two hours into my review, I an- nounced to the walls of my room that a good night's sleep was more important than familiarity with the material. A PART OF THE law school ritual is waiting around expectantly for the results and stalking the postman daily. In my case, I hurt my back playing football the day after the LSAT and spent the next five weeks more concer- ned with whether I would run again than my score. When my score arrived, I decided to apply to Harvard and Michigan. My only moment of genuine anxiety came when I was put on the waiting list at Harvard in December and then wasn't among Michigan's first wave of accep- tances. I tripped over to the Univer- sity's law school admissions office to check on my progress, only to be told rather icily I would hear in a few mon- ths. After my chilly reception I spent a frantic day on the telephone trying to ascertain which schools accepted late applications. For about a week I was nervous that I wouldn't get into school. AND MY JOB search was remarkable only for the low degree of enthusiasm employers were showing for my resume. Little did I know that it is the Univer- sity law school's policy to conser- vatively assess an applicant's chances, so as not to falsely inflate hopes. A week after my depressing visit, my accep- tance arrived. I can't say I was surprised; I knew I was highly likely to get in, based on my grades and LSAT. But I was still pleased; I knew if I went to law school here, chances were good I'd avoid poverty thereafter. And it was one hell of an excuse for a celebratory dinner. LESS THAN three months later, however, I gladly relinquished my spot in law school when a reporting position came my way. I was enthusiastic about plying the skills I had practiced for four years at The Daily. And in the spring of 1976, reporting jobs were even more coveted, and harder to come by, than places in law school. In the back of my mind, I knew I didn't want to be in school in the fall; I wanted a year without tests or papers. I was concerned, however, that having turned down a spot in law school once, I wouldn't be accepted on reap- plication. The fear proved groundless. After a year' of Kansas proved stultifying, I was quickly reaccepted to law school the following spring. The law school liked me even better as an applicant with a year of work ex- perience. The law school likes people who take a year or two off, according to admissions officer Roger Martindale. In fact, the year after I applied, it began a program where applicants may automatically defer admission for a year or two if they wish. ACCEPTED a second time, I decided I was serious and returned to Ann Ar- bor one hot evening last August. I walked into the law school for the first time as a law student and listened to the dean make a perfunctory speech. I kept wondering "Why am I here?" The first semester quickly put an end to such speculation. One thing is true about law school: there's more work to do than in undergraduate school which leaves little idle time. And you're ex- pected to do it. Not every professor is like John Housman in Paper Chase, but enough are to make coming to class un- prepared an unpleasant gamble. Even if you're prepared, classes where you are asked to recite can be unnerving at first: The first two times I was called on I froze up, even though I was prepared. I was just nervous. THE HARDEST thing about law school for many people is the com- petition. It's there, especially in the fir- st year, when everybody is competing for a place on the law review. Com- petition is keen because making the law review opens many significant doors - chances to clerk for federal judges, jobs that may pay as much as $30,000 per year to start, and high academic prestige. The rub is that only the top eight per cent of each class is invited to join, and first-year grades are the determining criteria, except for a few people who earn the coveted spots by demon- strating expertise in legal writing and research. After the first year is over, however, most people relax. If you haven't made the law review, that pressure is over. And even if you're not number one in your class, the reality is that jobs do await nearly all graduates. I never believed I'd be able to say this, but I'm actually looking forward to school again. Stephen Selbst is a former Daily city editor. Daily Photo by JOHN KNOX The Law Quad-an impressive fortress-is protected against attacks from the unbrilliant by the LSAT. -40 iEy4T4 laa o N~0Ef' I11 , A 1 JG. aM ~ JOB.$) FRY'S 1 DCExmR) FRq~s sK, S hod ?lee 3osA.,, ,jf3AeAP.S Hefmios, ADD MA N .? o-ts , p1lS: i .A ... - .-- - I - - IL A a V.. L~aA E~Me IV/..Pr. l tnm 5 -4- A N l044. r1 K w f