Throughout my life, I’ve always been the ‘studious one’. I was a quiet child who wore Pumpkin Patch overalls til the age of 15, and preferred reading books in bed to human contact (my Dad dubbed me ‘Mushroom’ not only for my button-cap haircut, but because I rarely saw sunlight). My parents took great pains to socialise me (eg. by forcing me to attend summer swim camps, which I hated. People + chlorine?! Total nightmare…), and 5 years at college also tempered my awkwardness and timidity. However, I’ve always been firmly in the nerd camp.
Oxford Law School is a world unto itself. It is filled to the brim with the most dynamic and interesting people. It is also home to some super intense keenos/gunners. Suddenly (and refreshingly) I’m the ditz of the bunch!
Some snapshots from my 1st week of classes:
I introduced myself to my Constitutional Theory Class as a ‘Pisces and rom-com enthusiast’. This earned a slew of raised eyebrows from the first row (probably not helped by the fact that my Mac’s hospitalisation left me using a sparkly gel-ink and hot pink notepad). Apparently the correct answers included ‘Aspiring academic concerned with indirect tax constitutionality’ and ‘Three-times Jessup mooter interested in the jurisprudence of constitutional conflict’. Yikes.
I asked someone what social activities they planned to do at Oxford, hoping to hear about more “mixers, formals, clam bakes, trips to the Cape!” (ok, you get my belaboured analogy. I’m Eurasian Elle Woods.) The response? “I signed up for invigilating”.
I didn’t really follow my Law in Society seminar discussion. I swear to God the excerpt below is verbatim.
Law student 1: So under the Durkheimian organic solidarity model, law develops spontaneously.
Law student 2: What do you mean spontaneously? Like a flower?
Law student 1: No [insert derisive snort]. Not like a flower. More like…a pig.