Classes are set to resume for the Fall semester. Students gird up for a year of study, learning and preparing for the Bar exam. They shake off the lethargy of summer and hope that warm weather will extend indefinitely. They renew solid friendships with classmates, choose courses and check out the professors who teach them. Their feet are on the ground and they are infused with the enthusiastic ambition which is the trademark of today's young men and women. They want to help themselves and each other.
As a member of the Adjunct Faculty, my feelings run parallel. Teaching is not a job. It is a self-fulfilling labor of love. Addressing my students fills me with adrenalin. It's an exhilarating experience, similar to presenting a closing argument to a jury. I have a captive audience and no one is going to object. Candidly, it's quite a high. But not without responsibilities. I must hold their interest so they can get what I'm saying and can "get" me. The two go together. Enjoying a class is a prerequisite of successful communication. I give it my all and its a joy to do so, for this is what I've been trained to do. Being a stand-up comic and a criminal trial advocate has prepared me well for the task at hand. In one forum or another, it still smacks of showbiz.
Yet, I have another propelling motivation. I am humbly grateful. I love the job. Selfishly speaking, it fulfills me and I want to make that a two way street. I treat students with courtesy and respect, for they are about to become lawyers. They shall soon be my peers, and I want my enthusiasm for the law to be contagious. I receive many letters from former students and keep them all, for they are very validating. I stress my availability, should they ever wish to contact me. A delightful part of teaching. Inevitably, a bond develops between me and my class. I find it healthy.
So, I'm rarin' to go. If the students' enthusiasm matches mine, things will be just fine.