My Work Experience.

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Amanda Madaras

Lealands High School

My Work Experience

He was looking at me again, his eyes boring into the side of my head. I turned my head slowly, our eyes meeting. Sharply, I swivelled back round again, my heart thudding, the drowsy butterflies from my first day now alive and kicking. I looked again, and still it seemed so surreal. No more than three metres away sat a murderer.

I bet now you’re expecting me to launch into a big story of how dramatic a courtroom is, the uproar or relief as a verdict is given, the murmurs of scepticism or agreement as a witness gives evidence.

Well I won’t. Not because I don’t want to, but purely because it just isn’t like that. Without trying to sound blasé, Coronation Street and EastEnders create much more drama than in reality.

And as I soon found out, there is much more to being a barrister than arguing a case in court.

When I was told I was going to be doing my two-week placement at Luton Crown Court, I was ecstatic but also relatively apprehensive. My sister’s friend and my old babysitter had both been to Luton Crown Court for their work experience and both ended up walking out within the two weeks because they were made to do the jobs that no one in the office wanted to do; photocopying, faxing and the ultimate nightmare for all work experience students, making tea!

So there and then, I made and agreement with my subconscious. If after 3 days I, a, didn’t get along with anyone, b, was made to do repetitive jobs and, or c, was not enjoying my self, I would walk out and indulge in every girls favourite pastime – a little retail therapy!

But seriously, I’ve wanted to be a barrister for the past six years so doing my work experience at the crown court would give me a fantastic insight into the British justice system, which I’m sure will prove to be invaluable when it comes to further education and my ‘employability’.

A lot of my fears had proved to be unfounded and many questions had been answered after I attended my compulsory interview.

But on the first morning it still felt like a million butterflies were doing the ‘Macarena’ in my stomach. I was excited but nervous as well. I didn’t want to hype myself up in case it was all a big disappointment. Then I would have been in for a major fall back to Earth.

Michelle and I were both starting at 9.00am on our first morning so we decided to get the 8.39 train. We would arrive at Luton station at about 8.42 and that would leave us with plenty of time to wander round town and squash any last nerves. That sounds simple enough doesn’t it? Well, nothing is that simple, especially when it comes to British Public Transport. At 8.49, the train still hadn’t pulled up. Nothing to worry about yet, we still had twenty minutes until we began work. 8.50 rolls round and still no sign of the train. Now I’m beginning to panic. The main reason I decided to take the train was because, in my experience, it is more reliable than the bus. Well, bang goes that theory. Finally at 9.00, the train ambles into the station, not caring what time people needed to be at work for. By the time we arrived in town, it was almost five minutes past nine. I made a frantic phone call to my dad asking him to ring my ‘boss’, John, just to tell him I would be late. My excuse? The train was delayed. It has to be the most common excuse for people who just couldn’t be bothered to get up when their alarm clock told them to and no doubt, I’ll probably be using it in a couple of years time. But my first day at work, I was late, and the excuse, though it was genuine, sounded so corny!

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I power walked my way up to the court and strolled through the court doors and promptly set off the metal detector! The security guard called me back, had a quick look through my bag then let me through again. He was a lovely, friendly man who remembered me from my interview. They always say that first impressions are the most important and if he was anything to go by, I would be in a very pleasant environment. In fact, he was such a nice man, I’m quite disappointed I didn’t catch his name, (before you start jumping to conclusions, ...

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