Law Student Mental Health Day is a chance to look beyond surviving law school and think intentionally about the life you want to build in the law.
Why did you go to law school? It’s a question worth considering as UConn Law celebrates Well-Being Week, culminating with what the American Bar Association has designated Law Student Mental Health Day on October 10th (falling this year on a Saturday, the best mental health gift of all, a day off in theory). The programs on offer are not merely pleasant breaks from the grind. They encourage skills and habits that may prove just as important as anything learned in the classroom, applicable as law school is bearing down on you and even more relevant as you enter a profession with a complicated reputation for well-being. Insert lawyer joke here.
Why did I go to law school? The honest answer is that I didn’t know what else to do with my life. I was a political science major teaching English in Japan and had reached something of a dead end when a friend suggested that we study for the LSAT. I was curious about how the law worked, so why not jump into the deep end? At least I got to do it in Hawai’i.
I suspect my decision was not so different from those of many students around the country. Plenty of people have committed to three demanding years and a substantial amount of money to the vague idea of pursuing a legal career, perhaps because someone once told them they were good at arguing. The good news is that it worked out for me, though not exactly how I had expected. I discovered ways to use my legal training beyond the courtroom-centered path that law school often emphasizes, first as a legislative attorney and now as an academic law librarian. And it’s truly what I want for you too, for it all to work out.
What does any of this have to do with mental health? Quite a lot actually. I was fortunate to stumble onto a path that has brought me plenty of professional satisfaction and personal happiness, but getting there was not all sunshine and roses. There were difficult stretches, and for a time I fell into a coping pattern that is all too familiar within the legal profession, drinking too much with friends after a hard day. Eventually, I reached a point where I could begin prioritizing my well-being. But I can also see how easily things might have gone in another direction, particularly if stuck in a work environment where no amount of yoga could fix the underlying problem.
That is why intentionality matters. Understanding what is likely to support your long-term happiness can help you make more deliberate choices now about courses, experiences, workplaces, and the kind of lawyer you hope to become. There’s no need to rely solely on luck and hope that the struggle will be worth it like I did.
The ABA’s Mental Health Toolkit for Law Students points to the study, “What Makes Lawyers Happy?: A Data-Driven Prescription to Redefine Professional Success.” Drawing on data from several thousand lawyers, the study found that the factors most strongly associated with well-being were internal and psychological: feeling competent, having autonomy, being authentic, and feeling connected to others. Money- and status-oriented measures, including income, class rank, law review membership, and law school ranking, had little to no association with lawyer well-being. Billable hours naturally had a negative reported impact. It’s a counterintuitive finding that the things that law school makes easiest to measure and pursue are not necessarily the things that will make a legal career satisfying.
Whatever brought you to law school, you are here now. There is no better time to think critically about what you want your future to look like and what you want your legal education to make possible. The research suggests that some choices will matter far more to your well-being than the conventional markers of success.
My hope is that Law Student Mental Health Day gives you room to think beyond managing stress in the moment. It can also be an invitation to think bigger: What kind of work will give you purpose? Where will you have autonomy? In what settings can you be yourself and build meaningful connections with others? What would it mean to pursue a legal career with your well-being treated not as an afterthought, but as a priority? Big questions for sure, but even in considering them, you are probably left already headed in a happier direction.
Hope to see you at yoga!