Today’s guest post about Professor Kent Greenfield’s class “The Supreme Court Experience” is by 3L Elijah Rockhold. Watch a video about the class here.

When imagining the institutions of government in Washington, D.C., people might think of the grandiose Capitol building, with its intimidating Rotunda, massive chambers, and spacious steps where Presidents are inaugurated. Or they imagine the lawns on either side of the White House: the tours of the nation’s home and seat of power. Fewer people may imagine the Supreme Court, a beautiful building by its own terms, but smaller and less imposing than the other two branches of government. The building is tucked behind the Capitol, not viewable from the mall, and the public access is limited compared to other D.C. buildings. Even inside, the Courtroom in the center of the building is small: only about one hundred spectators can watch arguments in the room. 

Such was my experience and that of my classmates recently when we traveled to Washington, D.C. with Professor Kent Greenfield’s Supreme Court Experience class. The course, dubbed, “The Best Class I’ve Taken in Law School,” and “The Most Work I’ve Done for Three Credits,” is somewhat of a legend at BC Law. Each time the course is offered, Prof. Greenfield picks only eleven of the nerdiest students to take part in the seminar. Students are asked who their favorite Justices are and what opinion they wish they could have written. The class promises to be a who’s-who of Supreme Court fanatics. Each week, two students from the class argue a case pending before the real Supreme Court, and the other nine students act as Justices. We write opinions, concurrences, and dissents, and debate each other on the merits of issues ranging from First- and Second-Amendment protections, thorny statutory questions about Veterans educational benefits, and intricate provisions in the Bankruptcy Code. 

Our class traveled to D.C. to watch oral arguments in a sovereign immunity case, Department of Agriculture Rural Development Rural Housing Service v. Kirtz, No. 22-846. We had argued (and decided) the case weeks before in our own chambers at BC Law (Stuart 405). The morning of the argument, we filed into the courtroom along with fellow court-watchers, members of the press, and a high school group from Michigan (two of whom fell asleep briefly during argument. Hey, sovereign immunity is only interesting to so many). 

The courtroom is cloaked in thick, red velvet, and no one (not even the Court martials) talk louder than a speaking voice. The bench is set higher than the spectators and advocates, placing the Justices on a pedestal above their audience. The advocates sit and stand extremely close to the Justices, creating an intimacy between them, and a great distance between their conversation and the audience listening in. The place feels powerful. 

Built in 1935, it was at this bench where the Court changed the structure of Congress’s power to regulate the economy, invigorated the Recontraction amendments and ordered schools to desegregate, and granted individuals due process rights. It is also where, more recently, the Court restricted the use of habeas petitions, expanded the Second Amendment, and stripped the constitutional right to abortion. The space itself holds inherent tension, like most courtrooms, and its intimacy makes the ritual of argument appear even more exclusive. 

The argument in our case lasted about an hour and a half. It’s fun, of course, to see the Justices in action. Justice Kagan was predictably cutting and pressured both advocates. Justice Gorsuch wanted to discuss big concepts with the lawyers. These people, who we hear more often than see, owing to the fact that Supreme Court arguments are only audio-live streamed (never video-recorded), are exactly that: people. They were drinking morning teas and coffees, passing notes to each other and whispering in each other’s ears. They each took notes and occasionally consulted books or other materials. There was a magnificent predictability to watching them engage with the lawyers and with the work itself. These arguments—and the work of the Court—are not magical.

After arguments concluded, we ate lunch in the cafeteria at the courthouse. Bella Miller thought it amusing and charming that the Supreme Court has its own version of a mini Starbucks, like our café at BC Law. At lunch, Professor Greenfield arranged for us to chat with Adam Liptak, the Supreme Court correspondent at The New York Times. We talked with Adam about his role reporting and watching the Court, something he has done professionally for over 20 years. Given the recent attention on SCOTUS—both in the realm of individual rights and increasing anxiety about the legitimacy of the Court—we certainly had a lot to talk about. 

Our day concluded with a short tour of the building. We reentered the courtroom, this time by ourselves, and took in the space with more detail. Looming above are friezes, carved with figures of modern law: Confucius, John Marshall, Charlemagne, and Draco, to name a few. We each took turns standing at the eerily-close podium, imagining what it is like to face the Justices and advocate a case.

Being able to take this class and travel to D.C. is a great privilege. For an entire semester, my classmates and I can dedicate part of our weeks to careful reading of the most important legal issues facing the Supreme Court, sharpen our oral advocacy skills, and witness the best practitioners and justices in action. For anyone who is nervous about public speaking, or who may envision themselves the next Elizabeth Prelogar, this class is well worth the work–and the trip to D.C. is like icing on the cake.

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Elijah Rockhold is a third-year student at BC Law. Contact him at rockhold@bc.edu.