Last week, I came close to doing something I've never done before. I almost walked out of a class. Ironically, the class is one I usually enjoy. Unlike other courses where PowerPoint slides are the norm and professors cold-call on students at random, this class thrives on open discussion and student participation. However, it was during this class that I seriously questioned my desire to become an attorney. I wondered if the kids in my class are really the kind of people I want to surround myself with...and whether I'm callous enough to survive in a profession where people believe it's okay to charge exorbitant fees based on the damages awarded at trial for the deaths of twenty-one children.
The case we were studying was referred to by lawyers as a "slam dunk," but it wasn't their depiction of it that bothered me as much as the nonchalant acceptance of their greed by my classmates. The majority of students (or, at least, those who spoke up) felt it was appropriate for people who've been hurt to sue anyone and everyone in order to get as much money for their troubles as possible. And when it's all said and done, the ambulance-chasing lawyers who help them win all that money should, according to the consensus, feel no ethical qualms about keeping a large cut of the monetary verdict for themselves as compensation for their services. That is, after all, how our system works - sue until there's no one left to sue, play up the tragedy and tug on the heartstrings of the jury at trial, and hope for a big win so that the person who's been wronged can be made "whole" again...and the lawyers can get paid. In theory, it doesn't sound so bad: Lawyers make it possible for society's less fortunate to acquire huge sums of money from rich corporate entities with deep pockets. If there were ever a real-world illustration of fairness and justice in action, wouldn't that be it? And since we spent precious class time debating the merits of the practice, it must have some potential to be considered socially acceptable, right? After all, if other lawyers are doing it and we as future attorneys don't do it too, we'll fall behind the curve, so doesn't that make it all okay?
Or maybe that's just what we tell ourselves to sleep at night. As we watched the video about a tiny town twelve miles from the Mexican border where a school bus was side-swiped by a Coca-Cola truck and slid down an embankment into a lake, killing twenty-one children and wounding countless others, I tried to remind myself about the media slant on the story and the ease with which lawyers become scapegoats for collective greed. But when, in referring to a survivor who lost his brother and received a substantial part of the settlement, the guy sitting behind me said, "oh man, he's living in this huge, awesome mansion now and still drives that crappy car?", I about lost it. Seriously? That is what you choose to focus on in the context of a horrific tragedy? What about the fact that a group of people who lived in shacks and slept on plywood cots suddenly acquired millions of dollars and hadn't the faintest idea about how to save or invest it for their future? What about the fact that their lives that will never be the same, even with all that new-found wealth, because their children aren't alive to share it with them? And what about the fact that within a hour or two of losing their sons and daughters in a senseless accident, the families of the victims were immediately confronted by attorneys telling them what to do and who to sue? Realistically, I'm well aware of the fact that some of my classmates are only entering the legal profession to win and get rich quick, but give me a break. Those kids who died had lives - real, human lives. There is simply no dollar value that can ever be placed on the the one thing money can't buy. If anything, the money will likely make their families increasingly unhappy over time as they come to the slow but all-too-unfortunate realization that fancy cars and expensive houses can't fill the hole left by a child's laughter. Believe me, I've gone down this route time and time again in trying to distract myself from Jon's loss. And time and time again, I've found that it just doesn't work.
I feared what people might say if I spoke up and shared my opinion during class, so I chose to keep quiet and did not contribute to the discussion. In the midst of a debate that turned death into dollar signs, I had to focus all my energy on fighting back the tears. I'm sure most people would never say it out loud but might silently feel that I have no leg to stand on when it comes to my outlook on wealth - after all, the government is paying for me to be here at school, and when my husband died, the government wrote me a check for that too. It probably seems easy for me to feel that money isn't the end-all-be-all when I'm not crippled with student loans and thousands of dollars of debt. And yet, therein lies the great conundrum. There's a reason they say we always want what we can't have. I'll never understand how people can be so heartless and shallow when it comes to money because when it comes to what matters most to me, I'd happily back give every penny (and then some) if it meant I could have my husband back. Money, in my humble opinion, is truly the root of all evil, especially in combination with grief. I've never seen so many ugly family disputes and ruined relationships than those created by the insurance money paid to the loved ones of Soldiers killed in action. This money - blood money, if you ask me - brings out the worst in people and encourages others to swoop in and take advantage of an already nightmarish situation. I can only hope that others who have not seen the full extent of it do not have to learn this lesson the hard way, though it's often the only way. Again, I wish I didn't have to speak from experience on this one, and perhaps my outlook comes across as idealistic or even naive. It's the only outlook, however, that I can live with in good conscience.
Let's just say it was a relief when class ended early last week. Ironically, our professor started the class that morning with a cartoon that played upon lawyer stereotypes, but admitted he probably shouldn't poke fun at the profession since there are already enough people out there who do it for us. And yet, when I consider the attitudes that were expressed during that class, it makes it easy to understand why. As they often say, "in humor oft lies the truth." There's a reason cliches are cliches, right? Thank God I'll be practicing a type of law where billing hours, fancy dinners to impress clients, and annual bonuses are nonexistent. I'll be paid just the same as any other officer of my equivalent rank and time in service, and I wouldn't have it any other way. Although I'll be proud to call myself a military attorney, I am still, above and beyond all else, a person, and as a person, I recognize that money can't buy happiness. To reach this understanding, I've taken emotional journeys in which money played no part and traveled miles for which money deserves no credit. The riches I have gained in the form of beautiful friendships, hard-earned knowledge, and bittersweet memories, are, in my eyes, the epitome of success. It's this form of success that I'll covet and safeguard for the rest of this life...and carry with care into the next. Who, after all, wants to be the richest guy in the cemetery? Times may be hard and the going may be tough, but being able to say "I love you" to the people who make our lives meaningful is still the greatest of all fortunes.
No comments:
Post a Comment