Yale Law School

Normal Fears of Yale Law School

As I make my way through law school I continue to have fears. I have talked with others who share the same fears and concerns I do. Law school is not an easy feat, and naturally fears are apt to creep up inside of us. Doubts. Worries. Concerns. Questions.

The Dream (Nightmare)

I have the dreams at night where I am somewhere on the Yale campus and it’s not quite recognizable to me. I know that I should know where it is. Usually I am standing on the ground looking up at tall buildings all around me. Those buildings become more and more overwhelming, and other Yale students make their way in and out of these buildings as if they have no fears. They are following a schedule, performing the day’s ritualistic dance of going from class to class, and there I stand.

It then dawns on me that I have a class I haven’t been to all semester. Fear begins to swell within me and I get to a point where I am on the verge of panic. I realize that I will fail this class unless I go to it now and do the work and take the tests. But I can’t quite remember where the class is held. Again, panic builds until I remember my schedule handed to me on a piece of paper at the beginning of the semester.

I wrestle with my memory to come up with its locations. Did I throw it away? Or is it still sitting back in my apartment? I can only check. But I must act fast. I push my way toward my apartment but I end up in an area on campus I haven’t ever been. I can’t seem to understand which way leads to my apartment.

Then something distracts me. It’s usually at this point in my dream where I need to ask for directions so I enter the closest building looking for a friendly face – possibly another student or faculty member. Surely they’ll know the way. There is hope as I spot a person in the distance but they seem to not have a clue either. But thankfully they know someone on the 5th floor of the building who can surely point me in the right direction.

I begin the long climb of the stairs but with each new level I begin to realize I am wasting time. I am going to FAIL. I will never become a lawyer. Ever. I am not cut out for this, I tell myself over and over again. But I push on, reaching the 5th floor. There are people swarming everywhere and I ask if anyone has seen this person, this person who can tell me how to get to my apartment so I can get my schedule so I can get to the class I had totally forgotten about and hadn’t been to all semester. My parents who are footing the bill are going to KILL ME.

Nobody has seen this person for hours, possibly days. Except one young gentleman who knows where she might be at this very moment. He gently grabs my arm, pulling me toward the window. I find him pointing toward a larger building across campus as it pushes its way up into the clouds. “She’s on the top level of that building,” the young man tells me. He’s potentially another law student, just like me. But I don’t ask. I don’t have time for that. I set out to find this person who can point me toward my apartment, toward salvation.

I begin my long trek across Yale only to discover a fire has set out in another building which is out of the way. But I know people will die. I run to save people. I run off-course. I get to the fire but it’s too late. I then can’t find my way back. I can’t find where I must go because the fire had lost my bearings. I begin to run back in the direction I came to find the young man who had pointed to the tall building so he can refresh my memory. But everything around me becomes unrecognizable.

I wake up in a pool of sweat.


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