good he is

My last Civil Procedure class was today, and it was very sad. Somewhere at the beginning of the year, I sat in that classroom and marveled at being a new law student. I daydreamed (or day-nightmared) about the year ahead and couldn't contemplate the end. But the end was today, the beginning seems blurry and the future right now scares me.

My sadness, though, was less about 1L sentimentality and more about my professor. Only one other teacher in my life has been as invested in me as a student and a person, and that was when I was fourteen years old. I think of my professor as Yoda: he's a plain, unassuming, little man. Underneath the mild exterior, though, is a tough teacher who pushes his students. He has generations of students who learned his techniques and manners of thinking, including several faculty members and over thirty years of alumni. Every time I meet someone who was in his class one, two, ten, fifteen years ago, they say how honored they feel to have had him.

I feel the same way. He's talked with me for over an hour past office hours to explain personal jurisdiction. He offered to do research on public interest organizations for my summer job. He encouraged me to explore my options for next year and even suggested some schools. I'm grateful that I had the chance to sit in his class, watch him draw pictures, listen to his jokes, suffer through his moods, and learn from the master. Whether I stay or go next year, I will be hard-pressed to find another teacher of this caliber again.