Making a Case for Carmen
Each day in Professor Ira Carmen's Supreme Court class, one of the eight of us students have to present the day's case. It's a lot like a law class, or so I hear.
It's an absolutely terrifying experience the first time out. He stands directly in front of you, leaning on whatever chair is nearest. He slides his glasses down the bridge of his nose, points a pair of fingers, and fires questions like tracer rounds. The first day of class saw one girl nearly break down in tears under his tireless grilling.
When he looked around the class today for the student who would state the facts of Rasul v. Bush (2004), I had a sinking feeling that it would be my turn. He went up and down the rows asking if everyone had done a case, and with the exception of one lucky guy in the corner (how he was skipped, I'll never know), I was the only on who hadn't.
I started out explaining how Rasul and his cohorts were comprised of 12 Kuwaities and two Australians who had been captured during military operations in Afghanistan, and how the district courts had rejected jurisdiction based on prior cases. This much I remember. After that, every thing I said was a complete blur. Which is a bad thing.
A couple minutes later, after I had completed my treatment of the case, Carmen started asking the probing questions. Was this a Constitutional or statutory case? Which justice had penned which part of the decision? These were easy enough, but when he asked me to repeat what I had said a few minutes earlier, I found myself strangely at a loss. I couldn't remember.
I felt completely stupid as the people around me started sniping the questions with this sudden expertise about all things Supreme Court. It was like they all had Scalia and Kennedy whispering the answers in their ears.
On the way out of our class, which couldn't have ended soon enough, I muttered to my friend Dustin that I had been completely destroyed during Carmen's questioning. Dustin, always the pragmatist, reminded me that when the class cherry-picks answers like that, it's often due to the presenter's thoroughness. In the end, I think we both realize that it's a whole different ball game when you're staring at the longest serving professor at the University; the man who has written you recommendation letters; the guy who gets phone calls from the White House asking for his opinion.