It’s Monday. 7a.m. I am 33 hours away from the final round of the Samuel Polsky Moot Court Competition. “May it please the court, good morning”- no good afternoon. Wait, what are the facts of Etsitty again?”
These days, my mornings start a little earlier than normal. I pace my apartment floor, still in my pajamas, practicing my presentation and carefully plotting every detail of a complex legal argument. My thoughts on the cases and the policies supporting my plea are interrupted only by pauses where I anticipate questions will fall and by the subtle hum of coffee brewing in the background.
Unfortunately, despite my best efforts and desire to practice for hours on end and commit to memory every fact included in my competition packet, it is not long before the ominous *ding* of my phone signals an email and breaks me away from my fictitious spar with a “hot bench” of relentless justices. With a sip of coffee and a click of a mouse, it’s time to start my day that features a swirl of classes, studying, meetings, and events.
As the Treasurer for the Philadelphia Legal Network and the Male Outreach Coordinator for the Women’s Law Caucus, every day includes event planning emails, budget request forms, and responses from potential panelists. After making event decisions, emailing fellow club representatives, and averting each small crisis, I am quickly on my way to Klein, my garment bag once again in tote, containing a suit selected based on its color and most recent use. Once in class, my mind shifts to the current topic – I envision a cliché image of a trunk of hats-with each cap or beret focusing me on the nuances of Corporations or Family Law.
“My thoughts on the cases and the policies supporting my plea are interrupted only by pauses where I anticipate questions will fall and by the subtle hum of coffee brewing in the background.”
It is as if I put on my “Corporations hat” in Professor Lin’s class and then quickly switch to my “Family Law hat,” filing away Corporations and Revlon duties in exchange for Surrogacy Laws in Pennsylvania. As I compose my notes and listen to the professors, I glance at my book and the sea of multi-color highlights and there, peeking out of the pages of this latest assignment, is a yellow post-it note with the word “MOOT” scribbled across it. I flip to the page marked by the note and there, contained within a case I know competition rules will not allow me to cite, is well-drafted legal reasoning that is perfect for my cause – an argument that could and should be raised in defending the rights of Mr. Torres and the millions of transgender students like him.
And that is where it hits me.
Author James Shygelski with the competition trophy.
Looking at that note, I find myself thinking once more about the Polsky problem and why the definition of “sex” should be expanded to include transgender persons. This specific “question presented” is much like the issues at bar in each of my seemingly endless reading assignments, and it is then that I realize there is more to take from a case than simply, “this is an example of the x doctrine in this subject.”
Suddenly, the class-specific hats are more than a trunk of accessories with a single purpose. These cases and the methods their respective attorneys use to achieve their desired results span beyond the subject in which they are presented and provide perfect strategies for overcoming even the most arduous challenges to any legal claim. Cases in Family Law are not just a tool to use on the final exam; they provide unique lessons in advocacy that could help solve the very problem that the Polsky judges will demand answers for.
It’s Tuesday. 7a.m. I am nine hours away from the final round of the Samuel Polsky Moot Court Competition. I am staring into the swirl of milk turning with the help of a spoon through my morning coffee, fascinated by this revelation. And the facts of Etsitty, the bus driver case I had forgotten the previous morning, come to mind just before the *ding* of an email. It’s time to start another day.
