Creepy Ol' Uncle Law School

Last night I went to an admitted students cocktail reception for LA-area people admitted to next fall's law student class at my school. It was fun and a little eerie to see some familiar faces. As soon as I got there with my name badge showing I was an alumnus, the questions started coming. Another alum was in a conversation with me and she has a much rosier view of All Things My Law School, so I let her talk, lest my view of the school as less-than-perfection scare off the admitted students. And, in fairness, a lot of my beef with my school is probably the sort of thing that would apply regardless of where I had gone to school (with the exception of my abject perpetual hatred for my legal writing instructor). After a glass of wine I was able to remember a lot of things I loved about law school and wax nostalgic, which scored me points with both the admits and the law school spies, er, administrators :)

I have kind of a love-hate relationship with my alma mater (do you call a law school an alma mater? Or is that only college?). I confessed this to a fellow alum, with whom I had dinner last night. He did a lot better in school than I did, so I figured he wouldn't have the same kind of bitterness toward the school. Surprisingly, though, he confessed that he shared a lot of the same feelings.

"There are lots of problems with the school," he agreed. "But you still don't complain about it to outsiders. It's kind of like the creepy uncle -- you bitch about him to your family all the time, but at the end of the day, he's still your family."

The analogy made a strange sort of sense to me. Warts and all, it's my law school. I guess, in spite of the bad times (though there were certainly good times as well), it'll always be my family.

And I'm okay with that.