My Prepared (Unheard) Testimony for HB2

Last night the House Committee on State Affairs held a public hearing on SB2, an omnibus abortion bill introduced in the second special legislative session called by Governor Perry.  Over 3,000 people came to the capitol to attend the hearing.  Over 1,000 people signed up to give testimony.  Only 90 were heard.  I was among those who wanted to testify, but were never called.  This is the testimony I had prepared.

This is the third committee hearing I’ve been to. Between these hearings and Senator Davis’s filibuster last week, I have heard hundreds of very personal stories relating to abortion access. Many are heart-wrenching. And it’s not just the pro-choice stories I’ve heard that have been heart-wrenching. I’ve also been touched by the stories of anti-choice women and couples who have struggled with the decision of whether to have an abortion. I salute the bravery of all the people who have come before their legislators and spoken from their hearts, oftentimes sharing intimately personal accounts.

One theme that I have noticed running through all these narratives, of the ways in which abortion has touched these many lives, is the theme of choice. Some anti-choice citizens have regretted their decision to have an abortion, but what was significant was that they had the choice. Since when is it the government’s job to protect us from making regrettable decisions? Should we only be free to make decisions that could not lead to regret? Not to mention that these accounts do not consider all the women who have had abortions who do not regret their decision. Indeed, every friend and family member I have spoken to who has had an abortion does not regret her decision.

Other anti-choice citizens have testified to standing by their decision not to abort their fetus that suffered from a fatal abnormality, but again - why should that mean that other women should be forced to carry their dying fetuses to term? The problem with the anti-choice arguments is their extrapolation. The logic just doesn’t follow. If you don’t like abortion, don’t have one. But don’t tell me I can’t have one.

The logic of this legislation doesn’t follow in other places too. You tell us that this legislation is in the interest of women’s health, but we’ve heard from countless doctors and medical organizations that these laws will in fact jeopardize women’s health and even lives. You tell us that fetuses feel pain at 20 weeks, but we’ve heard from the American Medical Association that pain perception does not function before the third trimester. You say you want to reduce the number of abortions in Texas, but we know that limiting access to abortion does not mean fewer abortions, it means fewer legal abortions, and more dangerous ones.

We all know that this legislation is not based on logic, but on dogma. But in our country we have our Constitution that gives us the freedom of religion, and also the freedom from religion. I am sick of coming here, defending my body from your dogma. It’s insulting to hear you say that you are looking out for women’s health. I don’t believe you. Stop using my body as the pretext for these bills that are based on a religion that is not my own. Keep your dogma to your bedrooms, to your bodies, to your churches. It doesn’t belong in these bills, and it certainly does not belong in my uterus.

My Foray into Texas Politics

I can say without hesitation that yesterday was my proudest day. Around noon, I heard that a committee in the Texas Senate was having a public hearing on abortion legislation raised in the special session. I read the proposed bill and was pissed off for a couple reasons.

1) The legislation shouldn't even be on the table. The special session was called to address redistricting, not abortion. The proposed abortion bills already died in the regular session. The lawmakers were able to call up the omnibus abortion legislation only because they bypassed a procedural rule requiring a supermajority to bring a bill to debate on the Senate floor; this rule is not in effect during the special session.

2) I was even more angered by what the legislation proposed and what the legislators claimed their intentions were. It was clear that the legislation was aimed at restricting access to abortion. According to the Austin Chronicle, one piece of the bill "would likely have the effect of closing all but five of the state's abortion-providing facilities." Yet the drafters couched the proposals in "we're doing this for your own benefit" language. For instance, the drafters of S.B.5 claim that "The purpose of S.B. 5 is to protect the health and welfare of women considering a drug-induced abortion." But when the bill would effectively shutter the vast majority of facilities providing abortions, women desperate to terminate pregnancies are placed in far greater danger. I don't trust the intentions of anti-abortion legislators drafting restrictive abortion bills and I don't want them using my health as a pretext for their paternalistic laws. My doctor and I can protect my health and welfare, thank you very much.

3) And then I looked at the names of the people who introduced the bill and the names of the people on the Health and Human Services Committee. S.B. 5, which is the bill proposed in the special session, is actually a combination of four bills proposed in the regular session. These four restrictive abortion bills were introduced by Senators Glenn Hegar, Dan Patrick, Bob Deuell, and Larry Taylor. Yup. All men. And the committee discussing the bill? Six out of the nine members are men. Telling me they were protecting my health and welfare. Now I was incensed.

I quickly wrote down two paragraphs summarizing my complaints. I didn't actually think I was going to speak, but I printed up the page and headed to the Capitol at 3:30 with my friend Tony to watch the hearing. When we got to the Senate Chamber, I told Tony I had written something. He convinced me to put my name on the witness list, saying they probably wouldn't get around to me, or I could always pretend I wasn't there when they called my name. After an hour of the hearing, the chairperson of the committee called the names of the first witnesses. I was shocked to hear my name in the first group of six.

When it was my turn, I sat in front of the microphone, hands shaking and voice quivering. I read my piece.


The abortion measures proposed are branded as protections - for the fetus, for the woman, for Texas. But we should not be mistaken as to their intentions. These bills are intended to limit women’s access to abortion across Texas. They are intended to deny women the constitutional right to choose whether to have an abortion. They are intended to constrict reproductive freedom. They are supported by anti-abortion groups and legislators, not women’s rights and women’s health groups. These measures will do exactly what they are meant to do - chip away at a woman’s right to choose.

I stand, as a woman, before a committee comprised of a supermajority of men. I find the paternalism in your proposals disturbing. I don’t believe that you are looking out for my health, and even if you were, I don’t believe you have a right to make reproductive health decisions for me. Please keep your bills out of my vagina.


After I read the last line, the chamber erupted in applause. The committee chairperson banged her gavel and gave her spiel on chamber decorum. I was elated.

I hope the senators heard me clearly: keep your government hands away from my lady parts. I also hope that these men will one day realize that they do not own women's bodies, and if we want legislation to protect our "health and welfare," we'll ask for it (or hell, maybe we'll legislate for ourselves!  Imagine that!). There was a reason the bills failed in the regular session.

I am also proud that I found my voice, even if it was shaky.

A Rescue in Cleveland

This morning I woke up to the celebrated news that three young women who were abducted around a decade ago were found in a seemingly inauspicious house in Cleveland, Ohio.  Well, they were found, yes, but rescued, really.  According to news reports, one of the abducted women, the brave Amanda Berry, began screaming from the front door of the house when her captors were gone.  Two neighbors heard her screams and broke down the door, liberating her, two other women, and a young child.  When I heard the story, I thought of the contrast between this rescue and the Kitty Genovese murder in 1964, when neighbors heard the screams of a woman being stabbed but did nothing, and for a brief moment I felt like today's saga represented progress.  The two men who responded to Ms. Berry's screams are true heroes. 

And then my facebook newsfeed became inundated with links to various news and gossip websites that had posted a news interview with one of these heroes, Charles Ramsey, hailing him as the latest Antoine Dodson.  Mr. Ramsey is a middle-aged black man with a missing front tooth who helped kick down the front door of the Castro house.  He described the day's events to a local newscaster with astonishment and bewilderment - pretty much the same emotions any of us would have felt in his position, assuming any of us would have had the courage to approach the house to begin with.  He also said he was eating McDonald's when he heard the cries for helps, and that he had barbequed and eaten ribs with the neighbors now accused of abducting and imprisoning the women.  The video of the interview went viral, along with "best of" lists of quotes from Mr. Ramsey.

The racist and classist undertones of this popular reaction are undeniable.  If we want to have a conversation beyond Mr. Ramsey's heroism, we should examine the last comment he made to the local reporter (which, from the looks of the video, may have made the reporter end the interview):  "Bro, I knew something was wrong when a little, pretty white girl ran into a black man's arms."

Guns and Progress

Recently, after a day of hiking in the mountains of Oaxaca, Mexico, our group of six settled into a wooden cabin with a bottle of Mezcal, a roaring fire, and feelings of freedom and curiosity that apparently come from trekking 10 miles through remote Mexican villages.  We got into a debate about gun control, and I was soon hopelessly telling everyone (including two young French women and a Bosnian woman) that "guns are deeply entrenched in American culture."

There is a sense of inevitability when we speak of this country's failure to meaningfully address gun violence. A headline from today's New York Times reads, "Gun Control Bid Had No Real Chance, Despite Pleas."

But the truth is, gun policy shouldn't inevitably fail.  Guns aren't "entrenched in American culture," certainly not to the extent that sensible gun safety laws, supported by a majority of Americans, can't pass in the Senate. The NRA is entrenched in politics, and they have many of us lamenting, yet affirming, supposed "gun culture." When we recognize the myth of that culture, and the accompanying myth of inevitability, we will be empowered to progress.

That something has always been is not a reason why it must always be.  Progress is not a natural evolution from the traditional to the contemporary, but a schism between what we think we know in the present and what we imagine for the future.  Our country started as a slave nation, founded on the myth of black inferiority, which was perpetuated by an economy based on free labor.  To many, I'm sure abolition was an elusive, unrealistic dream.  More recently, gay marriage has upturned "entrenched" ideas about marriage.

Yesterday, Gabrielle Giffords wrote a rightfully angry and defiant opinion in the New York Times in response to the Senate's blocking the most recent bipartisan gun-control bill.  In it, she shames the senators who cowered to the NRA instead of standing up for the innocent lives that have been marred by gun violence.  And she warns the senators who affirmed the purported status quo:

"Our democracy’s history is littered with names we neither remember nor celebrate — people who stood in the way of progress while protecting the powerful." 

Feminism

I've been reading Gloria Steinem and she's blowing my mind.  In one of her essays, she defined a feminist as "anyone who recognizes the equality and full humanity of women and men."  When I read this, I asked Robby, who was sitting on the couch across from me, if he is a feminist.  He asked me for a definition and I read him the one I just quoted.  So he said, yeah, he is a feminist.  And then I asked him, what definition could I have given him that would have made him reply no?  How cartoonish our ideas of feminism must be, if I couldn't think of a serious definition for "feminist" that would be objectionable.

Why has a term defined by equality become taboo?  I'll now call myself a proud feminist, and I hope my husband does too.

Thought of the day

The other day my friend asked me if I need to lift my boobs to clean under them.  It made me realize how little we know about each other's experiences.

I'm Baa-aack!

After kind encouragement from friends (shout-out to Jordan and Jacob), I’ve decided to start my blog again. I’ve been itching for a creative outlet, and have found myself fantasizing about blog topics and sentences. You know when an idea or thought comes to your mind and you can’t help but smile? That’s been me thinking about writing again.

Another reason I’m starting my blog again is I’ve recently been inspired by two great writers. The two writers are different in their stories, but similar in their styles. Their styles reflect the kind of writer I aspire to be - honest and self-aware, but not confessional or indulgent. I recommend checking out both of their work. The first, who I met over Thanksgiving, and whose blog my mom passed along to me, is named Cheri Walton. Cheri lives in Eastport, Maine, the small beautiful coastal town where my parents live, and she is a terrific artist. And, I’ve just discovered, she’s also a terrific writer. Her blog can be found at http://www.eastport.blogspot.com/.

The second writer is Justice Sonia Sotomayor. She came to Book People in Austin last week for a talk and book signing of her memoir, My Beloved World. I was in the crowd of people who got to hear her speak, and I knew right away I’d love her book by the way she conversed with her audience. She was engaging, bright as can be, and humble - but without false modesty. I devoured her book in four days. Her story was inspiring, and her writing delightful, but it was her character that really shone through. My praise cannot do the book justice, so trust me. Read it.

I hope it’s not hubris to be so inspired by these two. But even if it is, I’m glad to be writing again.

TLF

When I got to UT Law I heard pretty quickly about an organization called TLF, or Texas Law Fellowships. My mentor is on TLF and she's one of those people who makes everything sound like a ton of fun, but that wasn't the only reason I decided to join. TLF raises money every year to fund law students working in unpaid public service internships in the summer. This is a really important thing to do because without this money, many of the nonprofit organizations would not be able to host the intern and many interns would not be able to work for the organizations. I joined TLF because I loved the idea of law students raising money largely from other law students in order to help fund, yes, law students. The self-sufficiency of it impressed me. Professors also get in on the action, donating time and money to support our fundraising efforts. It's an incredibly cooperative endeavor and I am so proud to be a part of it.

I also love how every time TLF thinks of spending money on something we remind ourselves that any overhead we have only takes away from a fellowship we can give. TLF is one of those rare fundraising operations that actually gives almost all of its money to the people for whom the money is raised. Now you can probably tell where I'm headed.

Because [insert familiar economic explanation here], this year we have a ton of applicants and not a ton of money to fund. Our Spring pledge drive starts tomorrow and we need money! Check out our website (http://www.utexas.edu/law/orgs/tlf/) and please chip in. When you donate $25 or more you receive 6 votes to choose which students you want to see receive a fellowship. Look on the PayPal site for a link to write in your votes. There is a list on our homepage of the applicants so you can see the awesome nonprofit work UT law students are doing and choose your votes accordingly. By donating you will feel vicarious fulfillment through the students' acts of selflessness.

TLF also has a sweet motto "make love not law review," which makes us sound like a crew of free-loving intellectuals who don't care much for prestigious labels. If that doesn't make you want to give us money I don't know what will.

postscript

I just reread the last post and I am afraid I may have overplayed the relative monotony of this semester. Perhaps these points aren't redeeming at all, but I played on a skee-ball team last week (and we kicked ass), I recently perfected my migas recipe, and I am absolutely pumped for my summer job working in capital defense. And I have been listening to an old Modest Mouse album a lot lately, which just somehow makes my life feel more cool and exciting.

1L Spring

Today in Contracts our professor pointed out that we're on class 25 of about 50 this semester. Halfway through. A maddening idea.

This semester has been so different from last, which is a big reason I've been awful at keeping up the blog. Last semester I came to Austin and UT with my eyes wide and my jaw often dropped. I had no idea what to expect and I was ready for the challenge of accustoming my life to this weird city and to the equally but very differently weird experiment of being a first-semester 1L. Though there were pangs of loneliness, I certainly never regretted displacing myself to what was in many ways, a foreign land. The learning curve for a first semester 1L is incredibly steep, and seeing the day to day molding of my mind was fascinating and extremely validating. By the end of the semester I was encapsulated by law school and though it was trying at times, I loved every moment of it. I was high on the challenge of school and the newness of my life in Austin. I was constantly inspired and I tried to reflect that in keeping up this blog.

And now onto this semester. My love for school has not waned, nor has my appreciation for this great city. But the newness has faded and I am settled into my life as a law student more than ever. My life is mostly consumed by school and the various extracurriculars that have seemed to creep up on me. Plus I had the extra weight of finding a summer job. In one word, this semester is more focused.

I could tell the first day of classes that this semester was going to be a different thing. People raised their hands, almost unheard of first semester. Gone were the butterflies fluttering around the stomachs of fall 1L's. It was as if people had been doing push ups over winter break to get their biceps in tip-top hand-raising shape. Depending on grades from last semester people either got it in their minds that they needed to step it up, or they needed to maintain their edge. Either way, the wide-eyed fawns of last semester were replaced by a herd of mature bucks. This can be intellectually enthralling or totally annoying.

Though it's not obvious, I like the focus of this semester. However it has turned me into a bore. I wake up at 6 AM, I am home at 7 PM. I cook a healthy dinner, allow myself some wine, and curl up in bed with a casebook or more recently, with Foucault's Ethics (don't be impressed: I chose Foucault for the guaranteed inducement of sleep). I have taken to lighting candles in my apartment when I am home and I use scented soaps. Sometimes I have a friend over for dinner and I go to Pilates twice a week. I go out once a week and on weekends usually spend the days at the library.

As you can tell there's less excitement, which means less inspiration. However I will wrap up with this conversation I had at Urban Outfitters tonight. Even though my life this winter in Austin has admittedly been a bit vanilla, the city never fails to throw you some humor.

(I was wearing a t-shirt that said "Make Love not Law Review.")

Sales guy: Are you a law student?

Me: Yup.

Sales guy: What kind of law do you do?

Me: Not sure yet but I think criminal law.

Sales guy: Nice, I can help you out with that. (I think he meant he can help me get clients.)

Ecuador Top Ten

So I wasn't great at keeping up a travel log. I'm going to cheat and reconstruct the vacation now, with a top ten list of moments in Ecuador. "Top" doesn't necessarily mean best; in this context, it means notable. In chronological order:

1.) The second day of the trip we went with a group from our hostel to Cotopaxi, a 16,000 ft volcano 50 m outside Quito. Robby and I sat in the back of an SUV as we drove to a parking lot from which we hiked to the base camp. The road was incredibly windy, taking switchbacks to tackle the incline. As we were hugging a blind curve, a jeep came racing down the mountain and swerved to miss us as it came around the curve. The jeep then fishtailed, and flipped, as Robby and I witnessed with our jaws dropped. Our vehicle stopped to help, and thankfully no one was hurt. The driving in Ecuador is INSANE!

2.) Once we reached the base camp of Cotopaxi (after the longest one-mile hike I have ever done - the altitude sickness was very apparent all the way up there), Robby and I opted to hike further to the glacier. On our way up we spotted an Andean wolf (which is actually a kind of fox) and I let Robby continue with the guide to the glacier since I was having trouble breathing. I sat and watched the wolf, its red fur in stark contrast with the surrounding snow and bare terrain. I noticed a young Ecuadorian man watching it as well and we starting chatting; this was a good opportunity to practice my Spanish. He is a veterinary student in Quito and we talked about traveling in Ecuador. He asked if I travel much and I said no, to which he asked why. It's amazing how an elementary understanding of a language can bring about the simplest, yet also most complex questions. I realized I didn't have a satisfying answer for him.

3.) The driving in Ecuador was what scared me the most; I didn't really feel in danger unless I was in a taxi or a bus. As we were in a bus from Quito to Tena (probably a 6,000 ft drop in altitude), winding down the mountains, I noticed none of the Ecuadorians were nervous like me and I asked Robby if they're simply less fearful than I. He replied, "they don't have the luxury of your bratty fears." Point taken.

4.) New Year's Eve was my most memorable yet. Robby and I arrived in Tena, a town known as the gateway to the Amazon, and renowned for its white water rafting. We went to Tena with the intention of taking a rafting trip but when we arrived in the afternoon of NYE all the rafting places were closed. Had we planned or simply thought better we would have realized that New Year's Day is not a realistic date for a guided white water rafting adventure. Tena was a rundown town and Robby and I were sorely disappointed and both bordering on grumpy. But we resolved to enjoy the holiday and do everything we could to see some of the jungle the following day. Our hotel set us up with a jungle tour/tubing trip (not exactly what we had in mind but sufficient considering the circumstances) and we went into town looking for drink and food to start the evening.

In Ecuador, the New Year's tradition is to burn large effigies when the clock strikes midnight. They are made and sold in the weeks leading up to the holiday and are of notable figures; we saw representations of Correa, Chavez, Michael Jackson, and "Oil Men." The effigies were displayed throughout Tena in anticipation of midnight and when the sun went down, fireworks started. By fireworks starting, I mean street vendors sold fireworks to children who then indiscriminately set them off in the town square, where everyone was gathered and a band was playing. Robby and I spent the evening hopping between a nearby bar and the town square, dancing to the band and taking tequila shots with Canadians who were much drunker than we. At midnight, the bonfire of effigies began and everyone hugged and kissed. One Ecuadorian man proudly and repeatedly said to us in English, "Happy New Year!" and we hugged everyone as well, with some Ecuadorian men taking the opportunity to get a kiss in with me. The mood was exhilarating, the band was terrific, and we couldn't stop dancing. I'm thinking of taking salsa lessons now that I'm back in Austin.

5.) From Tena we went to Vilcabamba, a small village in a valley in southern Ecuador. I had heard of Vilcabamba as "the valley of longevity," with many centenarian residents. When Robby and I arrived in the morning we were hungry for breakfast and went to a local restaurant recommended in one of our guidebooks. As we sat down, a circle of ex-pat hippie musicians had formed in the courtyard, who broke out into a chanting song of "hare krishna." We had heard Vilcabamba attracted a New Age crowd but I don't think we realized what a presence this crowd actually had in Vilcabamba. The next day we took a taxi from our hosteria into town with a middle-aged man from Hawaii who was looking to buy property in the area. He told us that Vilcabamba is a vortex, along with a town in Australia and a place in Arizona. Robby and I had no idea what he was talking about. "You know, chakra," he explained. Robby and I nodded.

6.) Steve. We met him in Vilcabamba. He is a lacrosse ref from the DC area so he immediately liked Robby. And "Steve" is Robby's default name so I think Robby immediately liked him. Steve's in his mid-forties and was in Ecuador with his girlfriend, whose sister had moved to Vilcabamba with her boyfriend. The sister thinks America is coming to an end, and perhaps the world will end in 2012, so she moved to Ecuador (makes perfect sense, right?). The sister's boyfriend was the nicest guy I've ever met and he followed her to Vilcabamba. Unfortunately, Steve and his girlfriend had broken up earlier in the trip because of a fight over a rental car and were stuck together for the rest of the trip. Robby and I ended up hanging out with Steve and Alan (the sister's boyfriend) and took an all-day horseback trip into the mountains with them. Which brings me to #7...

7.) Our 8-hour trip into the mountains surrounding Vilcabamba. I hadn't been on a horse in over 15 years and I think Robby had been on one once in his life so we were a bit underprepared. Alan and Steve joined us and by 9:30 AM we were literally galloping out of town into the mountains. I remember it being a big deal when I got a horse up to a canter when I was taking lessons as a little girl so I wasn't ready for the full gallop but what a rush it was! The trek up the mountain was scary, being on a horse that is climbing to 2300 m, seeming to teeter on its small hooves. The horses would slip and I was sure I would be bucked all the way back into the valley, but we all made it safely to the top. We let the horses graze while we hiked to a nearby waterfall for a lunch of fresh cheese and guacamole. The ride down the mountain was just as scary as the ride up and our butts were getting pretty sore. As we approached town, the horses went into a full gallop through the village and the town square. The feeling of galloping into a town with a cowboy hat on and seeing people peering out windows or stepping into doorways to watch you pass is incomparable; one of the greatest feeling of all time. It was a moment that requires a soundtrack.

8.) From Vilcabamba we went to Cuenca, a city in central Ecuador known for its Catholic tradition and history. It is scattered with huge stunning churches and squares and uniformed schoolchildren. Outside Cuenca is the national park, Cajas. We took a day trip to the park which was not the strenuous hike we were going for, though it gave us an opportunity to see the unique terrain. We hiked past wild llamas and alpacas, around glacier lakes, and through its sparse tundra vegetation. The highlight of the trip was the walk through the paper tree forest. The forest seemed to appear out of nowhere on the tundra. Inside the forest, the tree branches become entangled in each other in such a way that only beams of sunlight were allowed through the branches. The sight is hard to describe, but Robby and I agreed it looked like something out of the Princess Bride. After a 20 minute walk through the forest, just as suddenly as we came upon the paper trees, we emerged back into the barren landscape.

9.) The last place we visited on our trip was Canoa, a fishing/surfing town on the north coast of Ecuador. To get to Canoa we had to take three buses, a ferry, and a taxi, and the journey took 12 hours. But boy was it worth it. We spent 4 nights there, reading on the beach, playing cards and backgammon. My favorite part about Canoa was the lunches of ceviche and pina coladas with our toes in the sand.

10.) On the last day of our trip, after an 8-hour bus ride from Canoa to Quito, Robby was standing on the corner trying to hail a cab around 5:00 PM when a man tried to grab my purse! My bag was slung across my body so he only managed to spin me around but I was shaken up and angry I didn't get a punch in. I was shocked at the audacity of the attempt, in plain view and in daylight. I was glad to fly out of Quito the next day.

And now this 1L is back in Austin! Classes started today and I got into the Capital Punishment course I had my heart set on. I think this semester will be tougher than last but I'm sure I'll still enjoy it just as much. It's great to be back in Texas, back with my friends, and back in BBQ country.

1L in Quito

Robby and I arrived in Quito last night for our three-week Ecuadorian adventure. Though our flight from Miami to Quito was an hour late we managed to arrive at the hostel before midnight. The first thing I noticed in Quito was that taxi drivers sparingly stop at red lights. Our driver flew from the airport to Travellers Inn, our home base for our two nights in Quito. Robby and I were tired from the travel and didn't mind the bumpy ride and disregard for traffic rules.

Surprisingly, we were up and showered by 7:30 this morning. We both noticed the sun had been up for some time before we roused and were shocked to find it was still so early. We were eager to explore Quito and were out the door by 8:30 after a homemade breakfast of fresh fruit, juice, yogurt, and eggs at our hostel. $20/night for a private room and a fresh breakfast is a pretty good deal. The fruit is the freshest I've ever had since I'm closest to the source as I have ever been.

Just flying into Quito brings me to the highest altitude I have ever been at in my life. I think my hike to Mt. Washington in New Hampshire set the previous record. There are mountains to the west of the city that you can see from any point in Quito; they seem to loom over the city as protector or predator, always engulfed in clouds. The weather in the city was clear and warm, though breezy and fresh due to the altitude. We walked from our location in the New Town of Quito to the touristy Old Town. I was curious whether I would be affected by the change in elevation and the only thing I noticed was my sinuses were congested and Robby had a bit less energy than usual. But we were captivated by this new place and persevered to finish the walking tour we had set out to begin. I've never been in a city like Quito, never been in a Spanish-speaking place, never been to a modern city with such integrated poverty. The beautiful plazas and stone streets were abound with business people and tourists, and young children offering to shine your shoes and old women selling lottery tickets. In my one-day estimation, Quito is a city that is trying very hard. The public parks and plazas are plentiful and very well groomed and clean. But we are warned to take taxis after dark and ATM's are protected by armed guards.

When we finished our walk around New Town and Old Town we went out for seafood at a place recommended by Lonely Planet, about 5 blocks from our hostel. The ceviche, garlic shrimp, and cervezas added up to $16 and were incredibly tasty.

Tomorrow we will either go to Cotopaxi, the local volcano, or check out the art museums in Quito. Tomorrow night we are taking an overnight bus to Canoa, a beach town on the West Coast of Ecuador.

My Spanish is rusty but not terrible. My proudest moment today was at the pharmacy buying deodorant when I said, "no necessito bolsa, gracias." I'll continue working on my conversational Spanish and will continue with updates on our journey.

Semester Wrap Up

Today I've been groveling around my apartment trying to convince myself that being hungover never felt so good. Though it feels great to have the first semester of 1L year over with, this in fact does nothing to lessen the hangover.

But last night was amazing. We finished our final exam at 5:30 and immediately headed to Sao Paulo's, a Brazilian restaurant close to school, for their margarita and queso (http://www.saopaulos.net) happy hour. About 20 of us gathered around tables pushed together and promised we wouldn't talk about law school. Amazingly we succeeded! Rather than bitch about future interests or debate affirmative action, we talked about our families, our boyfriends/girlfriends, our plans for winter vacation. We then went to a classmate's house party and onto a 1L party at Maggie Mae's (http://www.maggiemaesaustin.com/), a bar downtown where there was live band karaoke. A friend and I sang "Santeria" on stage but the best performance was by our classmate Joe for his rendition of the Beastie Boys "You've Got to Fight." The evening was such a welcome and celebratory end to an intense period.

Fully knowing what I cliche it is to say this, I feel unbelievably fortunate to be surrounded by the best classmates in the world. UT divides the 1L class into groups of 25 or so and our small group has really bonded. The support we give each other is invaluable and especially meaningful in this competitive setting. During finals we would check up on each other regularly, sharing notes, complaints, and even desperation. We all hugged before our property exam last week; anyone who knows me knows I love hugs so this was especially comforting.

When I moved here and didn't know anyone I told Robby that I was surprised what I missed most was being touched. I didn't just mean by him so I'll elaborate. When you're in a city full of strangers there aren't hugs, there are just handshakes or maybe a brushing of shoulders. But when you're surrounded by friends there are hugs, arms around each other's shoulders, guiding hands on each other's backs. This is a primordial comfort that I had never thought of until I was alone for the first time in my life.

So when we hugged before tests, danced the night away after our last final, and lounged around entangled in each other and our hangovers the next day I didn't feel alone. It's almost overwhelming to reflect on last semester already. The city, the school, the people... it's been an amazing four months. If my thoughts become more cogent I'll post them here but right now it's a bit of a haze.

Robby and I are headed to Ecuador for 2 1/2 weeks this break so ideally I'll have some "1L in Ecuador posts." I hope everyone has a great holiday and sending my love especially to my fellow 4C'ers. Can't wait to do it all again next semester.

Late night studying

me: 10th amendment is stupid

Jordan: totes

like if you care

put more words in it

me: totally

(from a 1:00 AM gchat conversation)

Finals Update

Today was a good day. It's been surprisingly cold in Austin (even flurried yesterday) and I elected to give in and use the space heater that was provided by my landlord. I spent the morning grocery shopping and doing laundry and then decided to work on my pot roast recipe while creating flash cards for my property final. Comfort food and coziness are a great prelude to productivity and I made significant progress on studying. I had five friends over to enjoy the roast with me - law school students tend to lack sustenance in this time and I was happy to feed my nourishment-needing classmates. Though we tend to primarily chat about exams, it's comforting to feel like we are all in this together. I brewed some coffee at the end of the meal and two of my friends stayed for a necessarily distracting conversation that in no way involved the law.

We then met at another friend's place and eight of us hunkered down for five more hours of studying. Hitting the books was happily interrupted by meaningless banter, law-based questions, and the suspenseful victory of UT football over Nebraska. 46-yard field goal with one second left!

Con Law final is Tuesday so with tomorrow I will abandon my property flash cards and proceed to judicial supremacy, the Commerce Clause, and Equal Protection. Juicy stuff.

Study Break

Today was the last day of classes. This symbolic end to the semester was anticlimactic since it was actually only the beginning of the most intense two weeks of school - finals. Because in law school most if not all of your grade is derived from the final exam, this two week abyss I am entering tends to be wrought with panic attacks, sleep deprivation and general freaking-out. I, however, am trying to keep my cool.

While the panic rushes in at moments, I have discovered ways to find calm. A search on YouTube of "relaxation video" will bring up images of meadows and streams, with a soothing voice instructing your breathing. Cooking my very first pot roast on Sunday gave me a sense of accomplishment that could only be outmatched by a mastery of the Rule Against Perpetuities (Weird coincidence - my twin in Maine was also cooking her very first pot roast that afternoon.) Laughing with my friends about the students they branded "the diaper people" (those who during an 8-hour take home exam will choose adult diapers over a 30-second bathroom break) instilled a sense of perspective. I read an article in the New York Times today about a man who is set to be executed in Texas who has an IQ between 68 and 86 - this reminded me of some of the reasons I am training to be a lawyer. Even though I am sure these next two weeks will be trying, I know there is nowhere else I would rather be.

We jokingly referred to Trinity as "the Bubble" in college. Here I feel as protected as I did there, and perhaps even as insulated. Yet law school carries with it a sense of engagement in the "bigger picture." For me, this idea is incredibly grounding during this intense period of study and preparation. I am preparing for the class exam, but at the same time and more importantly, I am preparing for a profession that is fundamentally integral to our society and our sense of justice as a people.

And now, back to the studying.

Reason #15 I Love Austin

I was in line at Buffalo Exchange today (GREAT consignment store a block from my apartment http://www.buffaloexchange.com) and I overheard a trapeze artist chatting with a roller derby girl.

Reason #14 I Love Austin

Today was our last legal writing & research class and our professor brought us cupcakes!

Disclaimer

Finals studying time is upon us which means my focus for the next month will be on Property, Criminal Law, and Constitutional Law, rather than on barbeque, margaritas, and music. This is probably a good thing though, and of course reflects the primary reason I moved to Austin. The fact that I now live in a dynamic city that has taken ahold of me must be secondary to my academic aspirations... right?

Right. I say this to serve as a disclaimer that over the next month my posts will probably be more school-oriented. Thanksgiving is this week and I am staying at school to buckle down in the library, only to break for the Law School Thanksgiving Dinner and Dance. And yet I'm really looking forward to Thanksgiving "vacation."

Law School Humor

Law school can be pretty funny. In line with the way I approach most endeavors, I came to school hoping not to take it too seriously and to have some fun. So far neither of these goals has been difficult to realize, though with finals coming up I'm actually trying to step up the seriousness. On the other hand, I don't think the fun part will wane. It's about appreciating the little things. For example:

It seems like everyone in school has a cold and with it, the requisite sick noises: sniffles, coughs, and sneezes. As property class was starting yesterday, the noises were synchronized in pitch and rhythm, like a symphony of sneezes. I was thinking this when suddenly I let out a loud, high-pitched sneeze, similar to cymbals crashing. This was the grand finale, and with it class began. I looked up to see my friend looking at me and laughing and I knew he was thinking the same thing.

Today in constitutional law our professor caught himself as he said, "naked power organ" in reference to the Court.

Many times amusements come from learning about Texas law. Today I learned that in Texas, calling someone a "communist" is libel per se. This is the most serious kind of libel and means that malice does not need to be proven.

There's a framed painting in the Atrium of the law school of a bunch of men standing around laughing. They are tan, many silver-haired, a couple wearing newsboy caps, one in sunglasses, and with drinks in hand. I'm guessing they're hot shot alums but when I first visited the law school I actually thought it was a painting of the cast of the Sopranos. I laugh every time I walk past it.

I was thinking of starting a website similar to "Overheard in New York," but instead "Overheard in Law School." Part of the learning process here is to test the law - to see if rules hold up in extreme circumstances. The hypotheticals people come up with are worth recording. In one class, we were talking about whether ignorance should negate the culpable mental element of a crime. One of my friends came up with a hypothetical where a bunch of Swedes are in a room with automatic weapons. "But, you know" he demonstrated, "they're Swedes so they don't know what the guns are." Could the innocent Swedes be brought up on weapons charges?