Someone's having a cardiac event at the bar exam -- What would you do?
- Jill Carnell
- Aug 22
- 4 min read
Updated: 7 hours ago
In May 2005, Mark and I graduated from law school, got married, and started studying for the Indiana bar exam, which we took in July. In some ways, it's hard for me to believe that it's been TWENTY years since then, while in others, it seems like that was a whole lifetime ago.
Lots has changed about the bar exam since we took it twenty years ago, and much has stayed the same. For lawyers-to-be, it is one of many hurdles to clear enroute to getting licensed to practice law, and it's a big one. A two-day test that you have to apply to take that's administered only twice a year. There's a lot riding on it. Lesley Crane once described prepping for and taking the bar exam as a "meticulously planned and executed binge and purge," which perfectly describes my experience of it.
A few weeks ago, at the Hofstra University location of the New York bar exam, an exam taker suffered an apparent cardiac event during a morning session. According to reports from some of the other 1,000 exam takers who were there, proctors were slow to respond to the emergency, and their response to the other test takers was along the lines of, "Nothing to see here -- get back to taking your test."
There's a Reddit thread from one of the exam taker witnesses that had over 375 comments when I last reviewed it, and there's a second Above the Law article about the incident entitled Bar Applicants Call B.S. on Examiner's Account of Test-Taker Suffering Cardiac Arrest. There's also some comparing and contrasting because the Hawaii bar exam was evacuated due to tsunami.
Friend, I've gone down the rabbit hole of comments and have been sitting with this event for three weeks now. One of my favorite comments is from a test taker who said they'd registered for a CPR course because they never want to feel helpless in the presence of someone in cardiac arrest again. There are lots of comments about how it's not surprising that this happened and this was the response.
There's also this one, which tracks with what Loretta and I experience on the regular -- legal professionals noticing that the talk doesn't always match the walk when it comes to attending to our well-being.
What would 2005 exam taker Jill do?
The question that keeps going through my mind is, "What would 2005 exam taker Jill do?". I've discussed this with Mark, partly because I discuss most things with him and partly because we sat next to each other at the same table for TWO DAYS taking the exam.
I study the photo at the top of this page and bring to mind a sense of that time:
I was 29 years old and had spent the last four years working full time and going to law school at night.
I had a mortgage on a condo, two cats, and until very recently, was single.
That last semester of law school, I was earning $300/week as an intern at the Indiana Senate. Money was TIGHT.
I had an offer to come back to the Senate as a session attorney in November, but only if I got licensed.
I spent every day since the day after Memorial Day until the exam going to bar review in the morning, studying during the day, spending some days with Pat, and taking care of household duties.
Mark worked full-time at ISP, went to bar review in the evening, and studied at lunch and on the weekends until a couple of weeks before the exam.
We watched at least one episode of South Park every night before bed as a mental cleanser so we could sleep.
EVERY conversation with anybody always included inquiries about the bar exam.
I notice a heaviness in my body, and I can't think of another time when one thing in my life was my sole focus for an extended period of time like that.
Knowing what I know now, I was likely ALWAYS in a stress response and had been for a long time, probably since the beginning of law school.
In addition, I was HIGHLY CONDITIONED to be a Good Girl and Follow The Rules.
I would love to think that 2005 exam taker Jill would render aid and/or run out of the exam room to find help. In the deep part of my heart, I'm pretty sure I would've stayed in my seat and done what I was told, while simultaneously being horrified and angry about what another exam taker was experiencing.
Mark is pretty sure that 2005 exam taker Mark would've gone into State Trooper mode and started CPR while instructing me and others to get help, which would've been the catalyst that moved me to action.
What would 2025 Jill do?
I have compassion for all versions of myself, as well as every person who was in that exam room at Hofstra a few weeks ago, and all of us. We're all doing the best we can with what we've got in the circumstances we live in.
I'm inundated hundreds (if not thousands) of times a day with messages that tell me there's not enough for everybody, time is running out -- LACK, DANGER, BAD THINGS!!! It's exhausting, and the systems that we live in depend on us staying exhausted, scared, and compliant.
Lucky for me, I've had my Full Catastrophe, or the catalyst that moved me from Good Girl to Woman Who Reclaimed Her Humanity. I'm clear on what 2025 Jill would do. She would for damn sure Step Out of Line to render aid and/or get out of that exam room and find help.
That Full Catastrophe is what led me to stand up Thought Kitchen, with a vision to support others in reclaiming their humanity, fully embracing myself as Compassionate Disruptor.
If we want to live in a world where every human in every exam room everywhere will stop what they're doing -- even when the stakes are high -- to render aid to another human who is having a medical emergency, I've learned you gotta start with yourself. You don't have to do it alone, and it doesn't have to blow up your life. It'll be all the things, and it'll also be SO WORTH IT.
Ready to get started? I know the way.