Whoever said we aren't in the foxholes obviously never looked for us there.

It is difficult sometimes to be in a religious minority group, particularly one so misunderstood and maligned. It is difficult to sometimes put a finger on the subtle changes that a minority faces in ordinary events (whether cultural, racial, ethnic, religious, linguistic, or otherwise). Other times, you face sharp reminders that you are not like the others, and that that difference is not something that they enjoy.

Sometimes, those signals are fairly overt. When George Bush (the original, not the cowboy) ran for the Presidency, he remarked to a journalist that atheists ought not to be considered patriots, and ought not to be considered citizens either. When I lived at KU in the student housing, posters by religious organizations were approved by the university and posted in dorm hallways and common areas with a turnaround of only a few days after being submitted for approval. Posters for an atheists group, of which I was the president, failed to ever be approved, though never being rejected either. The posters always seemed to find their way to the bottom of the stack to be approved, in many cases languishing for so long in the bottom of the stack (while others were approved only hours after being submitted) that events the posters advertised as being two weeks away would come and go without ever seeing the light of day. When posters were hand posted to bulletin boards, they were unceremoniously removed, or in some cases vandalized with profanities I’d rather not repeat here.

Not surprisingly, another event has happened which sparked these thoughts to resurface.

Two days ago, my brother phoned me to tell me that he was on his way back to his house after a day-outing to Canada. Along I-5, at that Canadian border crossing stands a monument known as the Peace Arch. The Peace Arch is a massive stone arch that symbolizes the open gate between the United States and Canada, and the freedom to travel from one country to another that epitomizes one of our cherished freedoms in the West – our right to travel.

My brother had been invited to an annual picnic held on the large grassy acres that surround the public monument, and the picnic was largely a success according to my brother’s accounts. Hosted by a collection of Washington and British Columbia-based atheist and humanist organizations, the event was supposed to be a celebration of non-religious ways of life and the respect for humanity such views encourage.

My brother has made the trip to Canada dozens of times to visit their zoos and aquariums, attend business conferences, spend money in their shops and restaurants, and enjoy the cultural landscape that is the lower portion of British Columbia. This trip, however, went less smoothly.

At the border crossing, the Canadian official asked my brother the standard first question of “For what purpose are you entering Canada?” My brother responded that he was attending a picnic at the Peace Arch (within view), and would only be visiting for an afternoon. The border guard asked whether my brother was having the picnic alone or whether he was going with friends, and my brother told him that the picnic was an annual event hosted by a group that he belonged to. The border guard wasn’t satisfied with that answer, and pressed for the kind of group that my brother belonged for. Telling him that it was a religious group (that’s always an easier answer), the guard asked what religion it represented. My brother finally gave in and told him that it was hosted by an atheist group.

According to my brother, the guard’s demeanor then changed. He began looking into the car through the windows, and asked my brother whether the group was a ‘hate’ group, whether they intended to burn any crosses or religious icons, and whether they intended to use any firearms during their festivities.

Ask yourself whether the reaction would have been similar if my brother has said that he belonged to a Catholic organization, a Baptist one, or a Presbyterian group. Try to imagine the outrage that would permeate large fractions of the ‘States if Canadians were asking whether Christian organizations that hold annual picnics were there as representatives of ‘hate’ groups.

It is difficult to be a non-religious person in a religious climate, and sometimes it takes small reminders like that to let me know, however tolerant we pretend to be, racism, sexism, religionism, speciesism, and any number of other forms of prejudice lurk just beneath the surface of our civilization.

Who can say "He should have read the class descriptions before he signed up for them" five times fast? Not me, I'm too busy.

A requirement for graduating with a law degree from my particular law school is the completion of both the oral and written requirements. Each must demonstrate a significant research component and be of a sufficient length and focus to qualify as a graduate level quality writing/speaking task. A professor who witnessed or read the project must certify that the oral or written work was of ‘B’ quality or better.

Every student is required to complete one oral task (it could be a class presentation, arguing an appellate brief, arguing a case with a practice license, or being on the moot court team). Students are also required to complete one written task (it could be an appellate brief, a substantial legal memo, law journal article, or analytic essay).

To date in my academic career as a law student, I have completed my oral requirement twice, and my written requirement four times. To say I’ve done more work in this regard than my average peer would be appropriate. This semester, though, I’ve decided to see if I can push myself toward my limits.

This semester alone, I will re-complete the oral requirement and written requirement. To do both is not a huge task. The first time I completed either, I completed both in the same semester. This time, though, I will be completing my oral requirement four times in the same semester while simultaneously completing my written requirement five times.

Yeah. How bad can it look to have completed the written requirement 9 times over, or the oral requirement 6 times, look anyway? And who knows, in the Spring, I may add to that total.

So I'm a 3L...

Fall classes began today. It is a milestone for me, and not one that I have now passed with hope and pride. Rather, I passed that milestone in fear and trepidation. While many in my class find themselves relieved to realize that they are in their final year of law school, I find myself frantically seeking something else beyond.

More than two-thirds of my law school academic career is completed. I say more than two-thirds because of the total number of credit hours remaining for me in the 90 credit hour program. If I was on schedule, I would have 30 credits remaining, for a smooth two semesters at 15 credits each. However, I have twice now taken summer classes, and packed more hours into previous fall and spring semesters than I truly needed. For me, only 13 credit hours are left to be completed.

I have checked the requirements for graduation, reviewed the courses I have taken, and realized that nothing remains that is required of me except to take the appropriate number of hours (13 hours). Once that is done, I am once more untethered and drifting.

I have considered that I might enroll for more schooling. I have long admired professors and have at least a passing fancy that I might make a decent one. I can write voluminously, think it would be incredibly fun to write and grade tests, and like the idea that I would be able to shape young minds into passable critical thinkers.

After all, if I stay in school long enough, eventually they’ll have to make me a professor, right?

Wouldn’t that be fun?