Sometimes in Law School

Read this poem by Haania from our Bristol campus about her experiences as a commuter student.

Sometimes the sun doesn’t wake up before me
And my brain is still asleep
But I am sipping coffee in my car
Halfway to the train station
Not knowing why the music isn’t playing.
(I forgot to turn it on)

Sometimes when the sun wakes up
I am already walking to the train
And I get time to stop and snap a pic
Of the sun’s rays cutting through the blue skies
And that moment alone is enough
To wake me up.

Sometimes I speak to strangers
(I want to know what they do)
Most days I work on the train
And many an exam and oral has been passed
Through making notes and answering questions
On the rattling metal box that trundles along.

Sometimes I forget to bring my book
Company Law or Commercial or Disputes
So I run to the library 3 minutes before class
Knowing that my brain will not work without paper to see.

Sometimes I am ready with all the knowledge in my head
Pen in my hand
Books at my side

Sometimes,
I don’t understand.
Those days
I go home and work through the science of the law
I cross-refer to the textbook and practical law
(But sometimes I just ask my friend what she knows).

Sometimes, I sent my tutor notes
And I ask her to tell me what I don’t know
Sometimes, I don’t know what to ask
So, I just ramble on
And every time they reply
The light flicks on.

Sometimes
The exams are too much
The work is too much
The notes are too much
The noise is too much.
Those days I go to the sofas with a coffee
And I recline with my laptop
And I watch Suits for a break
Or pull my prayer mat from my bursting bag
And seek solace in a quiet room
With my mat and scarf.

And when it is time
To go back in
Things
They make sense again.