A reflection on the hidden curriculum of strategic course registration and planning

As a "First and Only," I have found course registration in higher education to be a time of particular difficulty. It's easy enough to choose your classes on a shallow whim, simply picking those classes which align with either your interests or friends but, there's a hidden art to maximizing the impact of your course choices. Having recently completed another round of course registration, I can't help but think of opportunities my peers and I have to maximize our marketability which we miss out on due to having been the first in our family to go through this process.

My second eldest sister, Stephanie, entered our high school alma mater four years before me. She graduated and went off to college right before I entered high school. Before she went, she and a career advisor helped me understand electives and their prerequisites. I chose carefully and, in conjunction with extracurriculars, I was able to graduate with my diploma, as well as two "academy certificates." These allowed me to denote "with honors" on my diploma and resume.

Once again carefully planning my courses, I was also able to graduate from community college with three associate's degrees. Having gone to UC Davis rather than Santa Cruz, I wasn't as fortunate coming out of my undergraduate studies (especially considering the pandemic), and I was unable to complete my planned minor in Chinese Studies because I was not strategic in selecting and scheduling my elective classes. Taking the additional classes necessary to complete the minor would have required me to stay enrolled for just short of an additional year.

At UC Davis School of Law (King Hall), there are many similar opportunities for those who select their classes with consideration more comprehensive than merely meeting the minimum requirements needed to graduate. In particular, I would like to draw attention to the eight certificate programs available here at King Hall. This school provides certificates in a variety of concentrations, including Business Law; Criminal Law and Policy; Environmental Law; Immigration Law; Intellectual Property; Public Service; Tax; and Pro Bono.

The requirements for these certificates vary, but nearly all of them require completing a certain number of units along with foundational courses in the given concentration. Further, many of the courses overlap, making it a very feasible endeavor to earn one (or even two) of these certificates as a conscientious King Hall student. For example, a 2L who has already taken Federal Income Tax; Corporate Tax; and Trust, Wills and Estates; State and Local Tax has already gone a long way towards earning both the Business Law and Tax Certificates. There are also great commonalities between the requirements of the Immigration Law and Criminal Law Certificates. Also, those participating in the Public Service Law Program are nearly a shoeing for the Pro Bono Certificate.

Pursuing these certificates may require aspiring students to prioritize certain classes over others that may have drawn their interest. In my opinion, however, this sacrifice is well worth the cost. Legal certificate programs show employers and clients possession of specialized knowledge and/or passion in a particular area of law. This makes certificate holders more competitive in legal market. Possessing such accreditation may also ultimately allow an attorney to charge higher fees for their services. This is a pertinent consideration for paid and pro bono work, especially regarding claims and motions by which attorneys seek reasonable attorney's fees and costs (e.g. §1983 claims and motions to compel).

I hope my friends, as well as my fellow First and Onlys reading this, will consider whether these certificates can advance their careers--and that they will be strategic about taking the courses necessary to obtain one or more.

The value of the American Dream

It's date night, and of course, we get into one of the most heated topics a couple in the 21st century can endure. 

"What do you want to watch?" 

"I don't know, you pick."

Our back-and-forth between streaming services took longer than the actual movie. My wife decided to show me movies she grew up watching. She would ask me, "Have you seen this one?" Every time I answered in the negative, she would write it down on a list. Today, that list comprises her childhood movies like Step Up, Mean Girls, and Legally Blonde. 

Yes readers, a law student who has never seen Legally Blond color me shocked. 

In turn, I suggested some of my childhood movies, such as the Indiana Jones trilogy or The Beatles, Yellow Submarine. 

"Huh? Those old movies?" 

"Ahem, excuse you, ma'am, those old movies are classics. "

My wife grew up in a home with a huge DVD collection. I grew up with the VHS copies we found at yard sales, the Salvation Army, or the county library. 

This isn't to say her family didn't encounter their own struggles. Instead, they were at a different rung of the American Dream than my family. When I visited her childhood home, I felt small. Two stories, a garage not filled with junk, and most shocking, internal A/C! This is coming from a guy whose A/C system consisted of negotiating with my siblings to set a schedule to not trip our circuit breaker. 

At first, I was intimidated. I felt every time she came over she was in the poor house. But after beginning to take care of my mental health, I realized that her lifestyle wasn't a divider but a goal. 

The Washington Post article by Tara Parker-Pope discusses the comparisons of a "fixed vs. growth mindset." I was definitely in a fixed mindset going into undergrad. The dream of becoming a lawyer felt like a dim, flickering light at the end of a dark tunnel. When I overheard conversations about students using resources I had no idea about, it felt like that flickering light started to fade out. 

I hated how lost I felt. I was angry running the race miles behind the starting line. My fixed mindset had set my destination toward going nowhere. 

On top of my struggle to succeed in school, there was also the struggle to succeed in life. A study by the College Student Affairs Journal highlights the discrepancy first-generation students have with financial literacy. Speaking from personal experience, yeah that sounds about right. I was working while going to school at Target of all places. It's a cycle, you get your paycheck working in the electronics department and you think, "why not, I couldn't afford this as a kid." 

Next thing you know you're scrounging for hours to make ends meet but hey at least you have some AirPods to block out your guilt. 

Joshua Tree, CA

Feeling all the pressure to do good in school and learn how to budget weighed heavily on me. I found myself irritable and irresponsible. Until I started dating my wife. This New York Times article best explains the phenomenon that is "cross-class friendships." In essence, having kids from lower-income backgrounds mingle with kids from higher-income backgrounds benefits the financial prospects of low-income kids.

Being with my wife, I learned how to appreciate the value of things. How not to buy things on impulse and most importantly how to budget. She taught me how to budget and take care of the nicer things I could afford.

Throughout this post, I've included some pictures of my pair of Adidas Samba shoes I bought in 2018. These shoes were the first nice thing I bought for myself, since upgrading from Converse. Each picture is from the little road trips we went on because I learned how to save and budget. I still wear these shoes to this day and I would've never gone to these amazing places had it not been for my wife. 

Rosarito, Mexico

I am proof that "cross-class friendships" can improve the lives of others. I want others to learn that first-gen students can let down our ever-present guard to admit we need help and learn. I would have never learned the value of money had it not been for the lessons I learned from others. These pictures define who I am and what is possible "With a Little Help From My Friends." Sorry, but I had to make an obligatory Beatles reference, they were my childhood. 

I've come to learn financial literacy is the knowledge gained from family members who climbed the ladder of the American Dream. From those who painted their white picket fence for their kids. To other first-gen students out there who feel shame in not being financially literate, don't be hard on yourself. The deck has always been stacked against us since we got into the game. But remember, as first gens we have always been resourceful, and willing to learn! 

Monterey Bay, CA

While writing this blog, I found this YouTube video from TIME about how some notable people spent their first paycheck.

It’s Time To Organize (part 1: foundations)

Before I applied to law school, I spent time catching up on some of the books that my Texas public education had failed to expose me to, one of which was the autobiography of Assata Shakur, a book that I was surprised to hear reference to in a video we watched within the first weeks of the class for which I write this blog. Within the first few chapters of the book, I remember penning in an asterisk on the page when Assata first referenced her legal team who not only represented her, but stood by and supported her as she was being unjustly persecuted for fearlessly speaking out against the US government’s implementation and perpetuation of structural violence against Black people. 

Shortly after starting the book which my friend had graciously given me their copy of, one of my aunties gifted me a special edition of TIME magazine all about Thurgood Marshall. It could have been coincidence, but I started to see a common thread that I tenuously started to follow. When it comes to pursuits of social justice, of which I had always been deeply involved, the law and/or being knowledgeable in exercising it, might come in handy, I thought. It took a few more months until I had woven this musing into purpose and intention, but, if you had a chance to read my previous post, you can see what happened there (because here I am). 

The summer of 2020 before law school, I was ready to engage in this justice-oriented lineage I had started to read about– the one that vehemently defended freedom fighters, that brazenly battled racist/ableist/misogynist institutions, that was in pursuit of the justice that I was hearing echoed all around me in a summer of uprisings for racial justice and reckoning. Years since the movement’s inception, I was surrounded by chants of “Black Lives Matter!” on the streets of my hometown, and was asked to give a speech at a protest we organized after the murder of George Floyd by the police. Just a few months later, with the support of my community and ideals, I was ready to go to Martin Luther King Junior Hall. Here, I was sure, with the name and legacy of Dr. King, was a place where his dreams were actively being lived, implemented, and acted upon in pursuit of our elusive collective sense of liberation or at the very least, justice.

In the midst of a global pandemic that forced us all to further reckon with our collective safety, I could witness that freedom dreaming was also coming into conversation with what disability justice advocates had said for decades, that care is paramount to our collective wellbeing. Both with the gravity of the moment and with a hope of what we could shape together, many of my incoming class and I moved across the country to newly rented apartments in a new town to live with strangers and start our graduate school careers. 

Two weeks before starting this scholastic endeavor, we were informed that we would not be meeting each other face-to-face soon as anticipated, but rather would be conducting our first year of graduate school online via Zoom. I was lucky for my beautiful apartment, my incredibly wonderful roommate, and my having worked online for the whole previous year, because I was in a place of relative comfort and privilege while starting my law school journey that allowed me some distance from it feeling like a dire place. Many in my incoming class were not in such a privileged condition, and knew that they (and we) would have to contend with the challenges of structural barriers that both deserved and demanded institutional resources and support in the coming year(s). 

My incoming class was the first at King Hall (according to Dean Johnson’s speech at the 2023 graduation) to write and send a petition to the administration prior to the start of the school year. Although I was only a supportive observer of the process at the time, the subsequent year was one of collective consciousness building and struggle, finding moments of joy together when possible, and mostly, organizing (to my eager delight) under the auspices of justice, care, and liberation that I had originally sought to uphold while simply turning the pages of biographies.