Happy Friday! Here is a roundup of some of our favorite news articles and law school tips from the week:

Weigh the Benefits, The Risk of Attending a New Law School (U.S. News Education)

Some new law schools are experimenting with new curriculums that allow students to have concentrations. But what are the risks?

Law Schools Devise Debt-Free Path to Degree (Politico)

Some law schools are exploiting the loophole that could lead to billions of dollars in written-off federal student debt.

A Life Outside Law School—Just Breath (Ms. JD)

Next week law school classes start up again, so this week is 1L Orientation. Here are some great tips for making it through that first week.

Which Law Schools Have the Best Return on Investment (Above the Law)

There’s been a lot of talk lately about the value of a law degree and ATL shares why degrees from some law schools are worth more than others.

Off the Beaten Path: First Lady Michelle Obama (jdMission)

Becoming a lawyer is not the only path you can take after graduating from law school. JdMission takes a closer look at Michelle Obama’s career path.

Did we miss your favorite article from the week? Let us know what you have been reading in the comments or tweet @ManhattanLSAT.

By now if you’ve been studying for a while, either on your own, in a course or with a tutor, you’ve encountered the ubiquitous “quantity terms” scattered throughout the test: some, most, majority, etc. You may have been surprised to learn that “many” does not mean “most” and that “some” can include “all.” (You may even have slammed down your pencil at this discovery.)

The quirkiness of LSAT quantity terms can be frustrating when you first encounter it, but it isn’t as counterintuitive or labyrinthine as it initially appears to many (but not most). The key question to keep in mind at all times when it comes to a quantity term is: what’s its maximum, and what’s its minimum?

Here’s a useful guide. Once you commit this to memory, you should be in good shape to take down the LSAT on its own quantity terms (har har):

Happy Friday! Here is a roundup of some of our favorite articles from the week:

5 Reasons Why a Sense of Humor is Crucial to Grad School Success (Grad Hacker)

A sense of humor is crucial to grad school survival, and this is true for a number of reasons.

Which Law Schools’ Grads Run Biglaw? An ATL Infographic (Above the Law)

In honor of Shark Week, ATL has created a fun infographic that reveals which law schools’ graduates are the big fish in Biglaw.

Learn to Read, Write Like a Law Student Before Classes Start (U.S. News Education)

Entering 1L in the fall? Here are some tips for how to learn new vocabulary and practice your writing skills before classes begin.

Few Minorities in Law School? Don’t Blame the LSAT, Prof Says (Daily Report)

University of Virginia School of Law Professor, Alex Johnson Jr., says many minorities misapply to law schools that their grades don’t qualify for.

How to Avoid Losing Your Mind in Law School (Business Insider)

Impossible exams, tough professors, and all-nighters will permeate the next three years. Here are some tips for staying sane in law school

Did we miss your favorite article from the week? Let us know what you have been reading in the comments or tweet @ManhattanLSAT.

For those of you who took the June test and for those of you taking October with plans to apply in the fall, you’re probably hard at work already on your personal statement, or will be soon. Here are the five most important things to keep in mind when it comes to writing a fantastic personal statement, if you ask me.

1. Don’t skip brainstorming. The reason groups brainstorm, and the reason you should before you start writing your personal statement, is that it is the best way to get every idea “out there” instead of just going with the first thing that comes to mind. Why? Because believe it or not, the first thing that comes to mind is not necessarily your best idea. Before you pick up a laptop or pen and begin drafting, spend 15 minutes filling two to three pages with possible topics. Do not cross anything out. Don’t erase or delete anything. The point of this exercise is to come up with as many ideas as possible—however wacky, silly or strange it seems.When you finish, you will probably be surprised at how freeing the exercise felt. Now, you have a whole list of potential directions for your essay and are not locked into to any one or two.

2. It should be about you. Your personal statement is meant to be about you, not about your best friend, or your sister, or even how you think the world works. Of course you will include some discussion of the world around you and the people in your life to make your story clear and meaningful, but you should be writing much more about yourself than about anything else. Good questions to keep in mind are: how did you feel when X happened? How did it change you? What did you learn from it?

3. Talk about something that you learned. Stories about how you came to be who you are today are interesting. Stories about how you always were who you are today because you have not changed over the years are less interesting. “I have wanted to be a lawyer since I was three” may be true, but this kind of statement is not effective in a personal statement. Here is why. First, people like to hear about change, about discovery. They do not like to read about a lack of it. And second, generally, stories about how you came to realize your career choice do not take place in elementary school, or even middle school. You are just a kid then, and you think like a kid then. The only “kid” stories that should be featured in your essay are ones that help tell the story of how you became who you are today–and, for the vast majority of us, that’s going to include a heavy chunk of adulthood (or teenage-hood).

4. Look for connections that are not obvious. Have you had parallel experiences in your life that led you to a particular discovery, even though the experiences themselves seem unrelated on the surface? Or perhaps you expected Point A to lead to Point B, and it did. But then it turned out that Point B was not what you had anticipated. Rather than telling the first story that comes to mind because it feels like it has a nicely shaped beginning, middle and end, tell it the way it really did happen, and you could end up with something more honest, interesting and original. You will be shaping it in later drafts, anyway.

5. Don’t send it in without having someone else read it. Even if you are convinced it’s perfect, you should still have someone go over your essay with fresh eyes, because I would bet that it includes at least one typo you are missing. Once, in college, I pulled an all-nighter writing a paper. I submitted it at 9 a.m. the next morning then promptly crashed. I woke up a few hours later and walked to my desk, where the file was still open on my computer. I skimmed the first sentence. It had no verb. Are you thinking that means it was not a sentence? Yes. That is exactly what that means. My first sentence of my final paper was not actually a sentence. This is why you should have someone else review your work.

Check out the Telling Your Story column on jdMission’s blog for more.

Here are the free LSAT events we’re holding this week. All times local unless otherwise specified.

8/7/13 – Online- Free Trial Class– 6:30PM- 9:30PM (EDT)

8/7/13 – Los Angeles, CA – Free Trial Class– 6:30PM- 9:30PM

8/11/13 – Online – Zen and the Art of LSAT with Brian Birdwell– 8:00PM- 10:00PM (EDT)

Looking for more free events? Check out our Free Events Listings Page

We’re just over two short months away from the October LSAT! When you need a break from studying, have a look at some of our favorite law school news and tips from the past week:

Revenues Up at Larger Law Firms (The National Law Journal)

The revenue picture for law firms in 2012 was bright for large law firms — and bleak for smaller shops.

Law School Problems, Proposed Reforms Could Affect Colleges (U.S. News Education)

Extending gainful employment regulations could help ensure the federal government receives a good return on its investment in legal education.

Is Law School Worth it? The Debate is Reignited (Deseret News)

Deseret News shares some info from a recent draft paper, “The Economic Value of a Law Degree,” by a Seton Hall law professor and a Rutgers economist.

Ignore the Haters, Law School is Totally Worth the Cash (The Washington Post WONKBLOG)

The Washington Post discusses whether the amount of money law graduates make is greater than the amount they would have made if they hadn’t gone.

LSAT Sanity: But I Studied This- I Should Know How To Do It! (Part 1) (jdMission)

Manhattan Prep instructor Stacy Koprince teaches you how to perform at your best on test day by using some common sense.

Did we miss your favorite article from the week? Let us know what you have been reading in the comments or tweet @ManhattanLSAT.

If you’ve taken a Manhattan LSAT course, you know that we keep our classes small (or at least you know that your class was small). We cap in-person classes at 18 students and live online classes at 25 (where there are two teachers for the class) because, as research increasingly shows, students learn better when they are engaged. Engagement is hard (and often impossible) in a lecture of 75 or 100 people. 

It’s been a very busy 2013 here at Manhattan Prep! We’ve already worked with over a dozen non-profit organizations this year, supporting their programming and initiatives through in-kind donations, discount programs, and much more. We love to find new ways to team up with these organizations, connecting with pre-MBAs from all over the country who are striving to make a difference.

Below are some highlights from our giving so far this year. We encourage you to check out these organizations to see what awesome things they’ve been up to!

Read more

Happy Friday! Here is our weekly roundup of law school tips and popular news:

How Can We Fix Law School? Six Experts Opine (Above the Law)

Above the Law shares what six trusted experts have to say about the various law school reform proposals.

Law Schools Consider June Exam Scored for Fall Entrants (JD Journal)

Some law schools are now accepting LSAT scores from the June examinations when their previous exam deadline was in February.

Oh Wait, Is Law School Actually a Good Deal? (Washington Monthly)

New study shows that the law school earnings premium has not deteriorated since the economy collapsed five years ago.

Like Outside Law School: Run the Race (Ms. JD)

For all of those rising 1L’s out there, gearing up to start law school next month, this post is for you.

Are You Setting Yourself Up For a Résumé Red Flag? (The Girl’s Guide To Law School)

A rising 3L at an Ontario law school explains the unexpected pitfalls she encountered after following a side interest that BigLaw firms did not fully appreciate.

Did we miss your favorite article from the week? Let us know what you have been reading in the comments or tweet @ManhattanLSAT.

The LSAT can lead to a lucrative career in law, or a Supreme Court clerkship. Some lawyers fight for the rights of Guantanamo Bay detainees; others practice space law.

In my case, it led to Brooklyn small claims court. A year after leaving Yale Law School and passing the New York Bar, I found myself in downtown Brooklyn with a pile of tabbed evidence (exhibits A-H) in my lap, seething at the petite woman in pink flats seated across from me, the owner of my local UPS store just north of Prospect Park, as she crossed her arms and yelled, “YOU SHOULD HAVE BOUGHT INSURANCE!”

She was right. I should have, and I didn’t. But I had just sued her on behalf of myself.

It began, the way too many things do, with an overpriced pair of shoes. They were worse than overpriced; they were exorbitantly expensive, the most expensive pair of … the most expensive anything fashion-related I’d ever purchased by eight hundred percent. (For you fellow math-challenged, that means if the most I’d ever spent on a pair of shoes had been twenty dollars, they’d be $160 … and that’s not it.)

Thing is, I was working at a “big law firm” when I bought them and, in my abject misery, constantly seeking out means of instant gratification and temporary solace: McDonalds french fries for lunch (large, naturally); a fourth cup of coffee; that dress in the window I don’t even like that much but maybe it’ll look almost good with a belt.

During my lunch break, which wasn’t so much a “break” as fifteen minutes I could sneak away as a bottom-level associate, I walked over to Madison Avenue and bought the $hoes to feel better. And I did for about ten minutes.

When I quit my law job two months later to write (and actually began to feel better), I could not only no longer afford such extravagances, I could no longer afford to live with the previous ones, including the $hoes (although I had never actually been able to bring myself to wear them, anyway). I cashed out part of my IRA, moved to Brooklyn and put the the $hoes on eBay, where they sold quickly. I dropped them off at my local UPS store and, a week later, received an email in all caps from Yvonne, the buyer, in San Diego: WHERE R SHOES EVENT IS 2NITE!!!!!

A dozen calls and emails to the UPS branch, and I still didn’t have any answers. I googled the branch and found similar complaints of “lost,” high-value items that were never recovered. I filed a complaint with the Better Business Bureau (where the store, for the record, had an F rating). The store responded in a terse letter that it was my fault for not buying additional insurance. It didn’t mention anything about where the shoes might be now.

When I called the national UPS customer service line, the CS representative I spoke to told me she couldn’t help.

“You’ll need to take it up with your local branch,” she said.

I was done: done with working things the soft way, and done with saying “branch.” Full of rage and self-righteousness, and $300 poorer after eBay made me pay back Yvonne, I googled “Brooklyn small claims” and found my way to Turbocourt, the judicial twin of Turbotax, which, as you can infer, files your lawsuits for a fee. Instantly, I got my trial date: September 18th, 2012.

I had to teach a class that night.

I called the court.

“I have to work the night of my hearing,” I told the clerk, “so could we move up the date?” She told me that I’d have to send a letter to the judge, who would open it on my court date, in my absence, and decide whether or not to give me an extension. Best case scenario, the new date would be several months later.

No. This was a matter of justice, and as I’d heard too many times in law school, “Justice delayed is justice denied.” I would find a substitute teacher, and on September 18th, I would be there, guns blazing.

Over the next four months, I spent around twenty hours preparing for my hearing, at which I assumed UPS would not show. I hoped to get a winning judgment by default (which can happen when a defendant just doesn’t show up). I rehearsed my arguments, printed and sorted evidence at Kinkos while the clock charged my Visa, and invited a friend along for moral support, who brought her microphone to record (how could we not document such an exciting event?). By the time I arrived at small claims, I had spent or foregone (having gotten a sub for my class) well over the original value of the shoes–not even the resale price. Theoriginal price.

Small claims court is the little league of court. Few people have lawyers. You can only sue for $5,000 or less.

After an hour in a tense and crowded room, my case is finally called–case 87 of the 95 on the calendar that night.

“Mary Adkins!”

“Here.”

“UPS!”

“Here,” a voice chimes from the back. I turn to spot a small, angry-looking woman in a hot pink shirt and dark, creased jeans standing in the corner, staring right back at me.

Our case is sent to room 509, several flights up, and we end up in the same elevator. After nearly half a year of cultivating anger at UPS, the abstract merchant who won’t return my calls, it’s strange now to face this woman who (a) actually came, and (b) doesn’t look evil or abstract, at all. She just looks annoyed.

When we arrive on the fifth floor, I introduce myself. Her name is Camille. She’s owned the store with her brother for seven years.

Ultimately, we end up in front of an arbitrator. We each tell our version of the story. Hers is defensive, and I find myself believing it: she wasn’t there the day I shipped the shoes, and she trusts her employees. When the arbitrator raises her eyebrows in a way that signals, to both of us I think, that the store is nonetheless responsible for the shoes, Camille caves. She offers to pay me $316–the sale price, plus what I’d paid for shipping. I accept her offer because it feels like this is where this ends, and because it seems, now that I’ve heard her version, fair or at least fair-ish … never mind that what I’m agreeing to is less than what I have spent or forfeited just working on the case, alone.

As the arbitrator drafts the agreement, Camille and I chat. She is talkative about the challenges of running a small shipping franchise. People are always claiming that expensive items have been lost when she has no way of verifying whether or not what they’re saying is true. She’s sick of it, and this case has been the tipping point.

Because of me, she tells me–not kindly–she’s had to institute a new policy to track packages from the moment they are dropped off through each stage of handling. Her employees, and the employees of the companies she works with, are irritated by the new policy; they have to record and tick off every phase of transfer, and it substantially slows down the process. But she doesn’t care. The policy’s purpose is to spare her from having to spend evenings like this and cutting checks to people like me.

As we shake hands and part ways, I realize something. If Camille had just paid up but walked away without having said anything more, I’m pretty sure I would have wound up with the same empty feeling I’d had after the fleeting pleasure of buying the shoes had passed: the understanding that nothing was different. The delight at having “won” or prevailed eventually would have left me in the same place I was before the whole thing ever took place; instant gratification dissipates rapidly into The Default, As Usual.

But that isn’t what happened. Because something lasting came out of this–a policy change–I left small claims feeling better than I did coming in, and that feeling has endured; it’s with me months later.

Small claims is no space law. But my local UPS is a more reliable institution now. Begrudgingly, and via collective hostility, it operates in what I believe is a superior way. And that feels good.

In my case, the LSAT didn’t lead to a headline-worthy legal career. But it did lead to one headline that makes me a little proud, small as that may be.