Before you ask, yes. I am still technically a 1L, which makes writing something like this feel a little premature. But as the semester starts to wind down (26 days left but who’s counting, right?), I have found myself reflecting more than I expected.

Maybe that instinct comes from my BC Jesuit undergraduate education. Maybe it’s just what happens when you spend months reading cases and suddenly start thinking in IRAC. Or maybe this is just productive procrastination from my Constitutional Law outline. I am choosing to believe it is all three.

Whatever the reason, I keep coming back to the same question. What did I think law school was going to be, and what has it actually been? Because those two things are not the same.

So this is a letter to my 1L self. More specifically, my fall 1L self, who thought they had a pretty decent idea of what was coming. And in some ways, it is also a letter to anyone about to start law school, at BC Law or anywhere else, who might be carrying those same expectations.

Of course, this is just my experience. Yours may look completely different. But if any part of this resonates, then it’s probably worth saying. Also, fair warning, this one’s a little long.

You’ll still have a life.

Before coming to law school, I think I’d built it up in my head as something close to The Myth of Sisyphus. Just this endless uphill climb where you are constantly pushing something heavy, never really reaching the top, and somehow expected to be okay with that.

Luckily for you (and me) it turns out, that is not what this is.

I don’t know where I got the idea that law school meant disappearing from everything else, as if it required becoming some kind of academic hermit who only emerges to eat and occasionally brief a case.

You will talk to your family. You will see your friends. You will go out. And not in a “once every three months as a reward for surviving finals” kind of way. There is time for fun. You just have to let yourself have it.

On the topic of fun, some of the nicest moments this year have come in places I never would have expected. There’s one Torts lecture in particular that my friends and I still laugh about. Driving my friend Catherine home from our elective this semester has been an unexpected source of joy each week. And I can’t forget the conversations in the library during study days last fall, when everything starts to blur together and somehow that makes it all funnier.

All that to say, go to section events, bar reviews, and Student and Academic Services Reset activities. Pick your head up once in a while in the library. Join the softball league, or at least show up with oranges and good intentions.

The reading will get done. It always does. 

So don’t be too hard on yourself.

Everyone else is also figuring it out.

Even if it doesn’t look like it.

Law school has a way of making you feel like everyone else understands everything all the time. Like everyone else read the case faster, understood it better, and somehow also had time to outline already. They did not.

Everyone is struggling with something, whether they show it or not. Some people just hide it better. Some people talk faster. Same difference.

The good news is that BC does not feel cutthroat. People are supportive in ways that I did not expect. But that does not stop imposter syndrome from creeping in anyway. It will happen, so when it does, remind yourself that you’re here for a reason.

And if you’re like me and came off a waitlist, this is especially for you. You belong here just as much as anyone else. How you got in has nothing to do with what you can—and will—accomplish.

Remember your why.

Speaking of being here for a reason: before starting law school, someone told me to write down one to three sentences about why I was going, and to keep it somewhere I would see it.

At the time, I thought that sounded a little dramatic. It’s actually not.

Because law school has a way of pulling you into the day to day. Readings. Cold calls. Trying to keep up. Wondering if you are doing enough, or doing it right. In other words, try not to lose the forest for the trees. It’s easy to get caught up in the hustle. So remember your why.

Mine is on my desk, printed out and sitting in a 3×4 picture frame I got the summer before 1L from Marshalls, which felt like a good investment at the time and somehow still does. And as simple as it sounds, it works.

Being a first-generation college and law student, my why is my family and the people I hope to represent one day. This path feels bigger than just a job. For me, it’s a calling. On the harder days, that perspective matters more than anything else.

People want to help you. Let them.

Your professors, upperclassmen, faculty, and classmates are all resources. But more importantly, they are people who genuinely want to see you succeed.

Ask questions. Go to office hours. Reach out. Stay curious.

During orientation, I couldn’t count the number of times we heard some version of “I’m here to help you.” At a certain point, it almost started to sound scripted. At least for BC Law, I learned it’s not. Shocker! People actually mean it.

This is the beginning of a career built on asking questions and learning from others. Meaning, you don’t have to do everything on your own. Lean into that.

You are growing, even if you don’t realize it yet.

A lot of this growth is invisible while it’s happening.

At the end of the first semester, when I was working on my second memo, I remember saying to my LP professor (shoutout to Professor Chirba) something along the lines of “this second memo feels so much easier than the first.”

And she said, very simply, “yeah, it’s because you know how to write one now.” Which felt obvious. Almost annoyingly obvious. She was (as she usually is) right. 

But I hadn’t stopped to think about it.

In just a couple of months, I had learned something that once felt completely foreign, and that same pattern starts to show up again and again. It might be time management, public speaking, or briefing cases. Even just learning how to sit with not understanding something right away.

You are building a foundation. Even when it doesn’t feel like it.

Especially when it doesn’t feel like it.

A few things I am still learning.

Because you will always be learning. Apparently, it doesn’t stop after 1L. Or 2L. Or 3L.

1. You don’t have to have everything figured out right now.
2. Rest is not a reward. It’s part of the process. 
3. Comparison will steal your peace faster than any cold call ever could.

Still working on all three.

And lastly, yes. You will get a job.

If you’re about to start this journey, or even if you are somewhere in the middle of it, just know that you’re doing better than you think.

Whether you are a 0L, a 1L, a 2L, or a 3L, I hope this gives you a reason to pause and reflect on what you have learned so far, or at the very least, helps you justify putting off your own outlining for a few more minutes under the guise of personal growth.

If you feel like procrastinating just a little longer, or actually have advice for me, I would genuinely love to hear it. Leave a comment. Send an email. Iron sharpens iron, and I am always willing to learn.

And to my fall 1L self, relax a little. 

It’s all going to work out.

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Bella Calise is a first-year student at BC Law. Contact her at calisei@bc.edu.