The

Undeniable

Ruth

®

…and the Ruth shall set you free!

  • SALK Day 3 – The Ruth-Mr. D Story – Part 1

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    Ruth Carter

    When I launched Sponsor A Law Kid, Darvin and Jane DeShazer were among my first sponsors and they asked to sponsor my entire first week.  After my blog about Mr. D the mushroom master, they said I could write about whatever I wanted.  I decided to take the next few days to share part of the Ruth-Mr. D story.  I’m not sure he remembers our first conversation.

    Iguana iguana close up small
    Image via Wikipedia

    Mr. D teaches sophomore biology and AP biology at St. Vincent High School.  One of his rules is you can earn extra credit in his biology class by keeping a plant or animal alive in the classroom.  When I was a freshman, my sister was in his biology class and kept an iguana named Gomer in his classroom.  Gomer needed fresh food and water every day and he came home on the weekends.  It was common for me to take him out of his terrarium and place him on my shoulder.  Sometimes he would jump from my shoulder to Mom’s and scare the bejuzus out of her – kind of like this guy.

    One morning my sister was sick, and she asked me feed Gomer for her.  I had never been in Mr. D’s classroom before.  His room was intimidating to a small freshman like me.  Not only was it at the far end of the senior hallway, it was one of the biggest classrooms in the school with tall heavy lab tables instead of traditional desks.

    I entered Mr. D’s room shyly and saw Gomer in his terrarium.  My fear evaporated as I opened the top to change his food and water.  Mr. D was back in his prep area and didn’t really see me come in.  I called out, “Is it ok if I take him out?”  By the time Mr. D looked up to see (1) who this unfamiliar voice belonged to, and (2) what she was talking about, I had picked Gomer up and placed him on my shoulder.

    Mr. D seemed surprised by my presence in his classroom.  He asked,”Does that belong to you?”  I explained that Gomer was my sister’s and that I was feeding him in her absence.  I was lucky that my sister was one of the smartest kids in his class, so her reputation proceeded me.  I think he thought that was a precocious freshman who didn’t know that he had a rule against taking pets out of their cages at school.

    I think he came to appreciate my bold nature when he had me as a student for the following three years.   He was probably glad when I was a sophomore that Mom decided that it was better for me to have a cactus instead of an animal for extra credit.

    Click here for Part 2 of the Ruth-Mr. D story.

    Sponsor A Law Kid is my endeavor to pay for my last semester of law school. Today’s sponsors are Darvin and Jane DeShazer. For more information about Sponsor A Law Kid or to see what days are still available for sponsorship, visit my Sponsor A Law Kid page.

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  • Lessons from Grandpa Jim

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    Ruth Carter

    My grandfather died unexpectedly when I was two.  I have no memories of him.  It’s seems odd that some of the ideas that often run through my head are the lessons that he passed down through his children.

    Growing up, I simply accepted that I only had one grandparent on my father’s side of the family.  My grandfather was someone we rarely talked about, but I learned little bits about him over the years:  he was a Marine; he owned a ranch in Phoenix; and his favorite flavor of ice cream was vanilla.  I gathered that he was a fairly stoic man, and according to others, he would have been content to lead a boring life if it wasn’t for my grandmother.

    My grandfather was only fifty-seven when he died of a heart attack.  I think it was easier for my family not to talk about him because when they did, they had to relive the pain of losing him.  About ten years ago, I got curious and started asking questions like, “What was grandpa like?”  From that came an outpouring of stories about this man and the lessons he passed on to his children.

    1. Life is Choices. This is probably the simplest and the most profound statements I carry with me.  It is absolutely true that a person’s existence is made up of the choices they make – where to go to school, what profession to enter, who to marry, what to do in frightening situations, etc.  Who I am is what I do and what I do depends on the choices I make.  This even applies to what I think about and where I put my energy.  The best part of this lesson is the fact that in every situation, there is always a choice.  Neither option may be desirable, but there is a choice nonetheless.
    2. Finish Strong. I practiced this lesson this weekend during a 5K race.  By the last quarter mile, I was hot, tired, and wondering why I ever thought running was fun.  Regardless of all this, I still dug deep and finished with as much speed as my legs could produce.  I hear this lesson when I get senioritis with school being almost over and when the end of a project in on the horizon and every fiber of my being wants to slack off.  This is the lesson I draw upon when I have to take a deep breath, ignore all fatigue and distractions, and tackle the task at hand.

    When I think about the lessons from my grandfather, I feel like I am carrying part of him with me.  I literally carry a part of him with me too because I carry one of his handkerchiefs most of the time.  It’s comforting to think that I’m not going through the stress and challenge of law school alone, even on the days when I am completely isolated working on homework and projects.

    Photo courtesy of the Carter family.

  • Remembering Joel

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    Ruth Carter

    I miss my friend.

    I got a sad call this Saturday morning.  I got a call from a classmate saying my friend, Joel, was dead.

    It’s been a surreal couple of days.

    Joel and I had every class together during our first semester of law school.  We sat next to each other or near eachother in almost every class.  He was the friend I would high five at the beginning of Professor Noreuil’s legal writing class.  We agreed Professor Berch was insane, but only Joel thought that was a good thing.

    During finals week last fall, we both had the idea of wearing black under our eyes like football players because we were going to attack our exams.  After one test, we high fived and said, “Good game.”  I’m sure it looked strange to everyone around us, but to us, it made perfect sense.

    Joel was from Alabama.  He always made sure I knew how his football team performed every week and where they were ranked.  This year he invited me and a few others to watch Alabama face Texas in the BCS National Championship Game.  He was so mad when he caught me making the Longhorn symbol with my fingers.  It was almost sacrilegious to have someone rooting against his team in his home.

    Joel always got a twinkle in his eye when he talked about his beloved wife, Stephanie.  I remember the day I met her.  He was so proud to introduce me to the love of his life.  Joel also had two beautiful children.  His daughter was born during our first semester finals.  By then we had become good friends, so I crocheted a baby blanket for her.  Joel must have told me at least 15 times that she can’t sleep without it.  With Joel, if he considered you a friend, you were as good as family.

    It’s still settling in that my friend is gone.  I didn’t see him much this semester because we didn’t have any classes together and we were busy with internships and projects.  He wanted to go into family law and my heart is in intellectual property.  Every few hours, the grief hits me like a wave and I remember, “My friend is dead.”  I hope the school does some type of memorial or tribute to him.  I hope his wife and family have the support they need, for as long as they need it.  I know when the rest of us are back to our normal routines, they will still be feeling the stabbing pain of losing him.

    I’ve been thinking about the song “Seasons of Love” from “Rent:”

    525,600 minutes, 525,000 moments so dear.
    525,600 minutes – how do you measure, measure a year?
    In daylights, in sunsets, in midnights, in cups of coffee.
    In inches, in miles, in laughter, in strife.
    In 525,600 minutes – how do you measure a year in the life?

    Joel – I hope  you accomplished everything you came here to do.

    I miss my friend.

    Photo from ASU Sandra Day O’Connor College of Law