Hey Kid.

Hey Kid.
I know you have more important things on your mind like the self determination of the people of Baluchistan and the rights of the Saraiki belt, and why your mom made aloo anday, but we must get through mens rea and actus reus and other such niceties of law.


Hey Kid.
Its nice of you to share with class how your Dad bribes the Ministry of Labor so he can continue to violate rights of people who work in his factory, but you also just confessed to a crime and remember the class about the right to remain silent?  Smoke, Don't inhale...


Hey Kid.
Smoke, but remember cancer follows the dicta of equal opportunity.


Hey Kid.
You know how elated you feel when you say something smart in class, and the teacher says Fantastic, and you get that warm fuzzy feeling...well, real life is seldom like that. (Unless you are Amir Khan.)

PS:  You don't get retakes either.  Unless you are Amir Khan getting Mangal Pandey perfect.  So hit the books.  Get the A Star the first time around.


Hey Kid.
I know I talk about hegemonic structures and how we must constantly resist illegitimate assertions of authority and power, while I lecture you for an hour and expect you to take copious notes, but I never said life was without its own internal contradictions.


Hey Kid.
I know I teach for institutions that treat education partially like a dhanda, but while we are in this gig together, lets keep it pure.  Shall we.


Hey Kid.
I do realize that no one learns anything in the last five minutes of class because we've delved into legal complexities for fifty-five, so can we just make a pact to use that time to talk about muffins or Ryan Gosling?


Hey Kid.
I know we just de-constructed the myths around sexual offending and how a no means a no and a yes, yes, but don't go around saying yes too much; ignore the liberal Defence society burgers around you, it's a jungle out there, plus the Hudood Ordinance still applies.


Hey Kid.
Zip it!  The Women's Protection Act did not repeal the Hudood, it amended evidential requirements.


Hey Kid.
I see you know the elements of the crimes of extermination under international humanitarian law like the back of your hand and also how Geneva Conventions protect people expressing autonomy, but also find out where Eritrea is.


Hey Kid.
It's fine to be gay.  But I've also met your parents, and how can I say this delicately? Delay coming out to them.


Hey Kid.
You don't do the law because you love to ARGUE.  You do it because you appreciate human frailty, and want to protect it against oppressive state and corporate systems.


Hey Kid.
I know a vast majority of you think of class, this degree, and in fact education as a means to a way, and being able to pay off debt, acquire wealth, but can we at least pretend we appreciate how the judges have drawn arbitrary distinctions in ruling where the defence of consent should apply in assault cases, and where it shouldn't based on their own old fashioned notions of morality, homophobia, and heteronormativity?


Hey Kid.
You agree with me that lawyers in uniforms and judges in wigs are stupid - the word Milord archaic.  You laugh, mock, and smirk.  Then years later, why do you insist on protocol without even a hint of irony?


Hey Kid.
When you signed up, did you forget to read the fine print? In law, you must read.....


Hey Kid.
I like how you rely on instinct to come up with the clearest and most moral answers to a situation, but a month before finals, learn to back up that fabulous instinct with some case law and statute willya..?


Hey Kid.
Not everything can be explained by Public Policy, but when lost, try anyway...


Hey Kid.
Just because human rights may not be respected in Pakistan does not mean you must infuse the air of this class with hopeless cynicism and derogatory bleakness, and remarks that bring us crashing down -- while we appreciate ground reality, we are only trying to understand what humanity must also be capable of...? So let's get on with Article 5..


Hey Kid.
I understand teaching Western law reinforces cultural hegemony and perpetuates soft imperialism in oh so many ways, but you are welcome to criticize and I'm just glad I don't have to lose a part of my brain having to sift through the logic and language of Pakistani case law...merry though it may be.


Hey Kid.
What's up with the make-up?  What's next?  Cosmetic surgery.  At 25?


Hey Kid.
Students and teachers can never be friends; its the power dynamic inherent in a student teacher relationship which can not be eliminated even with the finest theory and the crispest rhetoric, so while we agree to be causal, lets also understand that we can not change the status quo absolutely..


Hey Kid.
You can call me by my first name.  It's not because I have illusions about the number of years between us its about taking the sting out of that status quo a bit...so it's fine.  Really, it is. (Awkward pause)

Never mind just call me Miss.


Hey Kid.
I know you you must feel isolated and schizo when in class we talk about the urgent need for land reform while your family owns 10,000 acres near Dadu, but thank you for not defending the notion of property and for that faintest flicker of guilt in your eyes.


Hey Kid.
You know how after class you come up to me and share your most sexist philosophies, and I have to calm my heart, and engage with you cordially and intellectually, and gradually bring you around with reason and compassion, can you just speak up in class instead and let the girls devour you?


Hey Kid.
I believe in Namaz Break.  I believe in Pooja Break.  You can wear a Jilbab and you can carry a Kirpan, but don't mistake heterogeneity as affirmation of one belief system over another.


Hey Kid.
I know its cool to have young male teachers who are barristers, but I too am an officer of the court and can write one mean brief.


Hey Kid.
Its fine to text in class.  Its fine to whisper and write notes to each other.  This right is subject to my momentary loss of self control and passion though.


Hey Kid.
Keep it up.  I will always believe in you.  Without a hint of irony.  Regardless of what you do.


Hey Kid.
Unless of course you work for Phillip Morris, Procter and Gamble or Boeing or...you get the picture?