Evil eye

I gave my husband the evil eye, el ojo, ha ayin hara'ah.

Of course, it wasn't intentional, but I should have known better than to brag about how stellar a 1L he is. I got a terse email from him yesterday: "I got hammered in class today." Apparently, sometimes you need to see the trees, too. Getting the concepts and ideas doesn't quite cut it in Civil Procedures where you need to, quite literally, know the exact letter of the law. My husband was asked to explain section 12c or civil code 32.2.c, or some such nonsense, to the last clause. And not just once, but for the entire class the professor came back to my husband mining for precise data, which he could not dig out of the recesses of his memory.

I'm sure it wasn't that bad. I lamely offered.

"My classmates threw a wake for me after class," he responded, despondently.

I never know what to say in these situations. I want to hug him, reassure him, tell him that a few days from now no one will remember and he will have redeemed himself with an insightful question or a brilliant response, anyway. It's so much easier when it's your child who has failed or fallen. A hug, a smile, and a cookie will generally make the world right again. Constant reassurance and lots of love may be required for the greater challenges. But a hug doesn't quite cut it for an adult.

Law School is a frightening challenge for anyone, but for a man who has given up his job and dragged his wife and kids across country for the promise of a better future, it's an enourmous burden as well. Luckily, my husband is a pretty tough and resilient man. In a way, it may have been a good thing that this intellectual drumming happened early on in the semester. In law, you can't just rely on a keen mind and mature savvy. A big part of law school is having detailed facts at your fingertips. Knowing the law and the codes and the procedures better than the other guy seems to be a big part of a lawyer's success. Knowing my husband, it won't happen again. He's probably in the library right now preparing for the next onslaught.

I suspect that's better than a hug or a cookie, anyway.

My husband isn't the only one struggling to learn new and challenging things. (Ptui, ptui, ptui!)

* * *

I want to express my sadness at the passing of Ann Richards, the former governor of the great state of Texas. Ann Richards was a strong, brilliant, good-hearted politician and grandmother who understood her power to have a positive affect on the lives of millions of Texans, and to be a role model for young women everywhere. She led this state with grace, humor, and a self-effacing recognition of her humanity. I truly admired her, and was inspired by her personally. With her passing, an era of colorful, spirited, plain-talking politicians has come to an end. It is a tremendous loss for Texans everywhere.