Why Law School Is Like Hogwarts

1. The acceptance. No one truly knows whether they are going to get into Hogwarts, until that magical acceptance letter shows up at your door. Just like law school, you can never be sure of getting in, until you receive your acceptance letter (by e-mail).
2. The sorting ceremony. When you arrive at Hogwarts, the first thing that happens is you get sorted into your new house where you’re going to live and you meet the people you’re going to spend all your time with. At law school, when you arrive, you get your schedule. The first day of classes, you realize everyone in your classes has the exact same schedule. You’re going to be spending all your time with these same people, day after day after day.
3. The first dinner. When you arrive at Hogwarts, it is overwhelming, as you get introduced into this whole new life of people and places. Orientation is just like this when you hear a bunch of the professors talk and make speeches about how you are entering into a whole new world and you will be forever changed because of your time spent in law school. You’re going to make life-long friendships, perhaps even meet your spouse, and you will never be the same.
4. Professor Snape. He was downright scary, all the students were afraid of him…he cold called and you knew had to be on top of your stuff. Law school professors = a bunch of Professor Snapes. They all (well most of them) set out to be intimidating with their cold calling and trying to get information from you, pressing and pressing with their probing questions. It’s supposed to help you learn, but does it really?
5. The first year classes. At Hogwarts, Harry certainly didn’t get to choose what he was going to take. In law school, neither did we. Actually much of first year in both schools you get told what you can and can’t do. And that list is long. Coming from a world of autonomy, law school can be stifling as you face these limited choices. What if you don’t want to go into constitutional law? Too bad, it’s not your choice and you have to take that class.
6. Hermoine. At Hogwarts, she was the one who knew it all. How to correctly pronounce Wingardium Leviosa so that the feather would rise. She read the books before the first day of class, and was simply a know-it-all. At law school, I learned that there are these types of people here too. Yes, even at this law school, there are Hermoines. In fact, I used to be a Hermoine, I don’t really know what changed. Even though being a Hermoine is apparently curable, but you may not want to cure this, because she is the one after all who kept on saving Harry and Ron from being killed. Maybe these law school Hermoines will save people from being wrongly sued or perhaps even being wrongly incriminated and incarcerated for a crime they didn’t commit.
7. Robes. At law school, they’re called suits. You wear them for special occasions (interviews). Some peoples robes and suits are better than other people. But that doesn’t make them better people. Just think of Ron Weasley and his tattered robes, and we all know he was one of the top wizards at Hogwarts!
8. The Exams. No one knows what they’re going to be on exactly. Before you knew the format of your tests and what was going to be tested. Not at Hogwarts, the professors just threw you into some sort of situation that you had to get yourselves out of. Same in law school, they give you a fact pattern and you’re expected to critique and provide analysis for the client. You think you’ve been learning something all semester and then you get to the exam.
9. The lack thereof of learning practical skills. At Hogwarts you learned all these spells, but you didn’t really learn how to apply them. Harry even had to start his own club to start teaching people how to use magic to defend themselves in real world situations. Here at law school, I’m learning that law school doesn’t teach us how to be lawyers, a fact which confuses me. Apparently we don’t learn black letter law, or anything useful that would help us actually practice law. I even thought back to my Contracts class, and realized we never even read an actual contract. Just like in Defense of the Dark Arts, they never fought real dark arts, either.
10. Belief systems. You’re taught at Hogwarts to believe that good is good and the students are indoctrinated into a certain way of thinking. Here at law school, it appears that Career Services is trying to indoctrinate us into a way of living. Make good grades. Get a good job. Those who attempted to stray off the path did not succeed at Hogwarts. In fact, people at law school who don’t think that grades are the most important thing are often seen as crazy.
11. Nothing is as it seems. Literally, in Hogwarts, staircases moved, paintings talked, mirrors could show you things other than your reflection. At law school, I feel like this is the case. Because things don’t always go according to plan. And some professors, even though they seem mean, might be the nicest people ever. I think I am still discovering more uncertainties as I progress through my time in law school.

Drawing parallels in this way feels to me like preparation for an essay, but it leaves all the work that matters to be done by the reader. All right, one finds oneself saying, this woman in Scotland wrote some sort of lengthy bildungsroman about Harry at wizard-school. And?

The problem, after all, is to give meaning to the parallels. We knew the comparison between law school and wizard school long before there was a Harry Potter novel. Doctrine—which law students tend wrongly to call "black letter law," largely because they and many of their teachers don't actually know what the phrase means—is the equivalent of "spells," and not least in the over-eager acquisitiveness with which beginners approach the learning of rules, which mature lawyers know is the least of the process.

But much of your list depends on similarities among all sorts of schools, and all sorts of bildung, whether it happens in formal or less formal educational processes associated with "growing up." Would it be less or more useful to explain "why law school is like West Point," or "why law school is like ballet academy in St. Petersburg"? Whatever the value of Harry Potter as commercial young-adult fiction by hysterical copyright enforcers may be, might appeal to parallels with more resonant literature be equally enlightening as to law school, and more enlightening as to art? How about "law school is like the Pequot" or "law school is like The Magic Mountain"?

So the way forward is to go from a list of correspondences to an essay that leads the reader in ascribing meaning through interpretation. How do these similarities help us to understand the social and psychological meaning of "law school" better? (For this reason, because we are looking for insight, the more insightful the literature we draw upon, the more likely we are to find it. Whatever may be said for Harry Potter, or his beastly progenitor, it seems unlikely that he has more to offer us than Hans Castorp, or Ishmael, or even Eugene Wrayburn. But if he and his are of special value here, it is in the insight they produce concerning law school, not in the charm of their personalities, which—at least in Ms Rowling's case—I find it difficult to credit anyway, or the superficial similarities of place and character.)

HermIOne?

Why Law School is Like Hogwarts: THE REVISED VERSION

I can remember sending off my application, and then the waiting game began. One day, when I least expected it, I received my acceptance letter. When I arrived at law school, I received my schedule. After the first day of classes, I realized everyone in my classes had the exact same schedule, meaning I was going to be spending all of my time with these same people, day after day after day. The first week of classes was overwhelming as I was introduced into a whole new life of people and places. Much of my first year I was told what I could and couldn’t do. And that list was long. Coming from a world of autonomy, law school could be at times stifling as I faced a world of limited choices. What if I didn’t want to go into constitutional law? Too bad, it wasn’t my choice and I had to take that class. Law school professors (well, most of them) were portrayed as being downright scary, all the students were supposed to be afraid when they cold called and you knew had to be on top of your stuff. It’s supposed to help you learn, but does it really? Then, there are the know-it-alls, i.e. some of my fellow classmates, a.k.a. gunners. In fact, I used to be one of those people, and I don’t really know what changed. No one knows what the end of the year exams are going to be like. In law school, the professors just throw you into a situation, by giving you a fact pattern that you’re expected to critique and analyze. You think you’ve been learning something all semester and then you get to the exam. Here at law school, I’m learning that law school doesn’t teach us how to be lawyers, a fact which confuses me. Apparently we don’t learn black letter law, or anything useful that would help us actually practice law. I even thought back to my Contracts class, and realized we never even read an actual contract. It appears that we are not learning, practical lawyering skills. But then, what are we learning in law school?

The above parallels leads me to the conclusion that since law school is just like Hogwarts—we are all in the midst of a magical experience! Hogwarts taught its students, namely Harry, Ron, and Hermione to confront their fears, finding that elusive inner strength in doing so, and also committing to doing the “right thing” even in the face of adversity. During Orientation, all the professors talked and made speeches about how I was entering into a whole new world and I would forever be changed because of my time spent in law school…I was told, “my life would never be the same.” At Columbia Law School, like Hogwarts, nothing was as it seems. Literally, in Hogwarts, staircases moved, paintings talked, mirrors could show you things other than your reflection. Here in law school, I feel like this is the case in a more figurative sense. Because things don’t always go according to plan. And some professors, even though they seem mean, might be the nicest people ever. And, I think I am still discovering more uncertainties as I progress through my time in law school. However, one thing is certain. Just as you’re taught at Hogwarts to believe that good is good and how students are indoctrinated into a certain way of thinking, here at law school, it appears that Career Services is trying to indoctrinate us into a way of living. Make good grades. Get a good job. Those who attempted to stray off the path did not succeed at Hogwarts. In fact, people at law school who don’t think that grades are the most important thing are often seen as crazy.

Even with all of this, law school is still magical in my eyes. The ways I am learning to manipulate the law, the new language I am learning (almost like a book of spells), and my network of fellow law students, will all be valuable weapons that I can use to help me in fighting against social injustice. I know I am being given a wonderful opportunity by being here at CLS, and as another mythical superhero story says, “With great power…comes great responsibility.” When I graduate from Columbia Law School, I will have all this magical knowledge within my grasp, what I do with it is my choice. Will I choose to support the good side like Harry, or be on the dark side with Lord Voldemort, or maybe be swaying back and forth between the two like Draco? The power of the law, once mastered, is immense and great. My task as a law student is clear, learn the law, then figure out how I can responsibly use it, if necessary, dispute it, and then finally choose where to direct this great power.