The Business School is Diverse

Not that it's really an excuse, but writing about the MBA program is tough knowing that not more than a handful of business students will ever read or relate to what I'm saying.

By nature, law students have a lot in common. They start out with similar aspirations, similar GPA's, similar backgrounds, similar career goals, similar test scores, and undergo a very similar, grueling law school experience. That's not really the case at the B-School.

As one example, Baylor business school is about 36% international. Besides the United States, students come from Nigeria, Zimbabwe, India, China, Thailand, Sri Lanka, Vietnam, Malaysia, Bangladesh, Germany, Canada, Honduras, Jamaica and Mexico; considering the school has approximately 90 people, that is a lot of diversity.

Thankfully the experience has taught me to be more culturally sensitive.

Unlike the producers of the below video* - trying to update the World on the improved condition of the once paralyzed Kevin Everett - I wouldn't say, "roll the footage of the black guy in the wheel chair that starts to move" because I know that not all black guys in wheel chairs that start to move are alike. So I have that going for me.

Cops Beat Kevin Everett to Make Sure He Has Feeling . . .

In other Baylor - sort of sports realted - news, they've been doing God's work over at BearMeat, unfortunately, like some of God's other literature I've been finding portions of it too long to read.

*Video stolen from WithLeather

Would You Like a Drink with That Job?

Yesterday's career fair was about trading lackluster résumés for corporate swag and business cards.

I'd go up to a booth:

Me: Hey, what are you looking for?
Them: Well, we are a CPA firm looking for . . .
Me: Oh . . . neat . . . my friend's dad is one of those. Is that like a sweatband / slap-bracelet?
Them: Are you interested in accounting?
Me: Sure thing, but I ran out of résumés so you're going to have to take my word for it.
Them: Okay. Well, here is our information and . . .
Me: (slapping the swag against my wrist) Is this really a slap-bracelet?
Them: No it's like a slap-bracelet . . . but it's a koozie.
Me: That's genius. Consider me applied.

I don't know where I was going with that story. I think I wanted to say something like the career fair happened and no company bothered to give me a job but instead I implied it. After all, you walk around a career fair with twelve or so koozies and future employers start to worry.

Some Lawyers Live With Their Parents

My connection at the Wall Street Journal sent me the link to this article he wrote regarding law students not being able to find jobs. And by connection I mean we swapped a couple e-mails in which he told me what it was like to write about the law for the Wall Street Journal and I told him what it was like to write about scantily clad Lexis reps for my personal gratification.

It's a quick, albeit slightly depressing, read

Oh . . . and before I forget, this is probably a good time to mention I'm setting up an informational session for current JD's interested in the joint degree. So, you know, if you have any questions, sometime in the coming two weeks a couple JD/MBA's including myself will be able to provide answers . . . answers and free food. Anything involving business school involves food.

Something Poseur Would Love

I've never felt less nervous preparing for a final. I have one tomorrow and two on Monday, yet somehow, 30% of my grade no longer seems worth getting out of bed for. And since nobody, including me, cares about tests, quizzes or my near-perfect participation grades I'll discuss the business school's abundance of food.

To celebrate the first day of class, Prof. Accounting supplied cookies; to reward perfect attendance for the five-week class, Prof. QBA brought in kolaches; to encourage student ambassadors, admissions caters all activities with pizza or sandwiches; and to compensate for a 5 - 6 PM class, the career development guru brought in pizza.

While nice, the above examples are nothing compared to the celebration of Wednesdays. Every Wednesday at 10AM the Graduate Lounge fills with kolaches, Danishes, bagels, juices, muffins, and cakes for a magical time called doughnut hour. Professors and students mingle, eat, talk about life, and leave.

It's a happy place for everyone but diabetics.

And since my blogging has been minimal - something I apologize for - here are links to the new CSO Blog and something by the awkwardly-named Triumvirate of Awesome. I think they are three PC students but I could be wrong.

Enjoy.

B-School Resembles a Proud Parent's Home

To get your picture up in the law school you need to donate millions of hard earned class action dollars or graduate. Not at the B-School. At the B-School you just need to be part of a team that looks simultaneously confused, active and excited.

These are cell phone pictures of pictures that hang in the halls of the graduate area. If you think I'm as important as I do, you'll be surprised to learn I added the highlighted circles myself. They don't hang like that naturally.

Here is my, "Why am I doing this?" look.

Here is my, "Why is he doing that?" Look.

Here is the back of my head.

With any luck, by the end of my stint B-School, I'll be like the JD/MBA formerly known as Joanna Menendez who has her own panel in a five foot watercolor triptych.

What Do You Call a Business Student at Law Buddy Social? Swanburg!!!!

As you can tell from the title above, I'll be at Poppa Rollos tonight at 7:30 and I've got jokes.

Look for me to be sitting in a corner surrounded by enamored 1Q's, telling stories about the time I got kicked out CivPro and the time I used old outlines to pass a test. Notice I use the word "a" because it only happened . . . uhh. . .once. It only happened once.

The Chris Gains Transformation

In a place where nobody knows me as Swanburg, I find myself quietly reading on uncomfortable couches, not talking to anyone for long stretches of time. Law school trained me to work alone, surf the internet, procrastinate in groups and play ping pong. Here at B-School, people do none of that. They do homework together, proof read each other's papers and procrastinate far less regularly, talking about things like numbers, group projects and participation grades.

I'm not used to it but I'll live.

I'll live because even lacking windows or a palpable sexual tension between classmates, the MBA class average for most tests seems to be an 86 or higher, the job prospects are incredible, and they put large color photos of me in the halls.

That's all I can ask for.

Interacting with my New Surroundings

The other day I drove to class and parked next to a comely blonde that recognized me from Scruff's. She said, "Hey," I said "Hey" back; after exchanging a few words she waved goodbye and walked away. A few hours later she left a handwritten note on my car:

Hi Honey!!!
Hope you had a good day, even though it was soooo long! I thought I would cheer you up. Haha

xoxo [name omitted]

Plus I'm super bored because my MIS teacher is explaining how to put a header + footer in a word doc. right now!!!!

[Picture of stick figures sleeping]

In other words, I'm finally living out every fifth grader's most torrid fantasy. Except instead of my admirer being 12, she is 19 and instead of pig tails she has breasts.