Today I venture to expound upon a dirty little secret that law schools everywhere hope you never uncover. It’s a secret that undercuts one of the hard and fast truths drilled into every law student from the day they begin to even consider attending law school. It’s a secret that belies a premise promulgated further by pop culture via films like The Paper Chase, and, yes, even Legally Blonde. Though, not so much Legally Blonde 2.

This most epic of lies, is the premise that somehow, in order to do anything with your law degree, you need to be in the top ten, fifteen, twenty or fifty percent of your class. Now, before you begin to pen your angry letters of protest ye ol’ top-seven-percenters, hear me out. I’m not suggesting that you can ignore the vast majority of your work only to end up guaranteed with the same job placement as the kid who graduated top of your class – that would be ridiculous. In fact, it’s no secret that some of the best, most prestigious firms in the country will only hire the top ten percent, and others will only hire out of certain schools. So, don’t paint me naive just yet – I am well aware of the conditions on the ground.

What I am saying, however, is that grades are not the only method to obtain success, and, equally importantly, success is relative. I stand before you, or, rather, sit lazily in an ergonomic catastrophe of a chair that is bound to cause me future back problems, as a shining beacon of evidence that not all law school success stories are borne of the top ten percent.

Now, admittedly, I don’t consider myself to be a complete moron, but law school has generally destroyed any preconceive notions I had about my ability to succeed academically. As was the case with so many law students, in undergrad I sailed through without the slightest inclination to study or work. I did well, very well, and I took that confidence and cockiness with me to law school where it was promptly shoved back in my face, before I was mentally, intellectually and psychologically pushed to the ground and run over by no less than thirty-seven semi-trucks. Having just barely survived my first year, I exited with my new found comrades at the bottom twenty-five percent. I felt bruised, beaten, and downtrodden.

Yet I never stopped networking. Ah, yes friends, there’s the buzz word. Networking: it’s my salvation. After being summarily dismissed by just about every single judge, firm and special interest I applied to, I met a Superior Court judge at a networking event who liked me enough to hire me sans a look at my transcripts. That is where it all began to look sunnier. Over the summer I continued to network, and, after being formally rejected by the District Attorney’s office I met a Deputy-in-Charge of a specialized DA unit who, again, liked me enough to ignore my transcript. Suddenly, as the fall began and I was beginning work at a new job, the world seemed a little brighter.

My second year did not help my GPA at all. By the end of that year I was at the same place in the rankings as when I began – except now there were fewer friends with me as so many in my bottom-twenty-five-percent clique dropped out. Nevertheless I now had two varied job experiences under my belt, and hefty letters of recommendation to boot. I stayed in touch with everyone I met – ever – and continued to make more and more connections. Then, in the summer of my second year, I managed a Summer Associate position with a firm that was quite literally the perfect fit.

I’m not claiming my summer job was with Jones Day or Irella Manella, but I loved it, and, more importantly, they paid me. And my pay was fairly decent. I had friends at schools all over the country – some in the top ten, some the top twenty, some the top fifty, and almost none of them could claim a better post-bar outlook than me. Then, the impossible happened. By the end of the summer I had accepted a fall job with a Circuit Court of Appeals Judge. How? Networking and connections. Did the judge look at my transcript? No. Why? I knew his last extern and she told him I was fabulous.

So the moral of the story? Well, if you’re in the top ten or twenty percent, life will be markedly easier for you. But, for those of you in the bottom fifty percent, don’t despair. Your life is not over. I am living proof that you can quite literally achieve some of the most coveted positions in law school despite your painfully low GPA. It’s not all about grades, and that’s law school’s dirty secret. It’s about connections, introductions, networking, and having the presence of mind not to let your inability to test well keep you down.