English 101: A Reflection on the Exclusionary Language of the LSAT
- Israah Ansari
- 4 hours ago
- 3 min read
What language do lawyers in America speak? If you were to ask my father, he’d say “money”, but that’s just the Denzel Washington in him talking. Of course, lawyers in the US often speak several languages, but according to PrepTest 141, I can expect to only hear words like “perspicacious” and “turpitude” in the courtroom.
Language, with all its history and beauty, is an identifier of the in-group. The words you use, the accent with which you spit out such words tells someone whether or not you are one of them. Language is a longtime enemy of mine because I never seemed to speak the right one. My classmates in elementary hated the way I would say “dinent” instead of “didn’t”, and the wealthy stakeholders I’d present to at college board meetings couldn’t hide their confusion when I would approach with the microphone rather than one of their equals. I attempted to create my own language in second grade once– a mix of terrible British accents and gibberish– but it never stuck, and it certainly did not have 10 different synonyms for the most basic word.
The language on the LSAT is isolating, it shouts “you are not one of us, Israah!” When I read passages with terms like “pusillanimous” in place of “cowardly”, I feel the same burning in my throat that I feel at gatherings with my mother’s side of the family when I misunderstand or mispronounce something in Arabic. But that’s what the LSAT is for, to set a standard and weed out the fakes; to confront those of us who say “whatchamacall it” too often and who avoid class participation out of fear of sounding stupid. Standardized exams like the LSAT are a form of gatekeeping that exist to make you feel undeserving of the next step in your academic career; it excludes learners not only by scores but by lifestyle– whether or not one can even afford to study for and take the exam, and the background someone has that impacts their vernacular and understanding of/access to advanced English.
Studying for the LSAT has been a nasty form of self-revelation, but I can accept and grow through the reality that my work ethic is mediocre and my vocabulary is severely limited. Studying for the LSAT with LawyHer, however, has instilled in me that language is not a measure of my intelligence, and that my ability to recognize when I don’t understand and to make an effort to research and rehearse foreign vocabulary is a strength. Conversations with my cohort have also exposed me to the advantages of being in the out-group. Not speaking the same language forces you to welcome your differences, to step out of your comfort zone, to learn how to engage and connect with unfamiliarity while maintaining and feeling safe in your individual identity, to believe that you are exactly where you need to be despite feeling out of place– and trust, in a realm like law where everyone is competing, conforming, and questioning themselves, these are some of the greatest assets.
