Each spring semester, when my first-year writing students have moved from objective writing from pre-selected authorities to persuasive writing and doing their own research, I have them keep track of their time. In law practice, time is money.  Even if a lawyer does not bill her hours to a client, she is likely still required to keep track of their time, if only for that organization’s internal purposes. For better or for worse, practicing attorneys must know well each .1 of an hour they work, on what, and for whom.

The time-keeping exercise is designed to provide students practice with billing their time, learning, for example, how to convert, say, twenty minutes of reading cases to .3 of research.  It’s also an exercise designed to give them practice on what kinds of activities to bill. The time spent online looking for case law? Yes.  The writing of the brief?  Of course.  But what about that one-hour meeting with the professor?  Sure.  I’d call that an office conference and lawyers have those all the time. 

After students have finished their first briefs and have turned in their time sheets, I have them reflect on keeping time and ask them what they learned from the exercise. Most students aren’t fond of the exercise, but do recognize its value. One student once asked why I couldn’t ask them to keep track of their time in “normal” increments, like .25, .50, .75, and 1.00. This year, one student responded that keeping time was, for him, incredibly painful.  You see, he said, he has Attention-Deficit, Hyperactivity Disorder (ADHD).