Every July, a new batch walks through our gates nervous, wide-eyed, clutching admission letters, unsure of where the law block even is. And every year, without fail, I’m reminded why I love teaching law. Because what happens to these students over the next few years isn’t just academic growth. It’s a complete transformation, and as faculty, we have a front-row seat to it. Here’s what I’ve observed, year after year, watching students move from fresher to final year at Lingaya’s Vidyapeeth.
I can always spot the first-years in the corridor. They sit in the front rows, they’re terrified of being cold-called, and they write down literally everything I say.
This is the year where my job is less about teaching black-letter law and more about easing students into a completely new way of thinking. I watch them:
Honestly, first-year students remind me why foundational teaching matters so much. Whatever confidence they build later starts with how safe they feel making mistakes now.
By second year, something shifts in the classroom. Hands go up faster, Arguments get sharper, and students start disagreeing with each other and with me during class discussions, which honestly is exactly what I want to see.
As faculty, this is when we start noticing:
This is also often when self-doubt creeps in for students, and it’s a year where mentorship matters as much as instruction. A lot of my conversations with second-years happen outside class: in the corridor, over doubts about internships, or before their first moot court round.
There’s a specific moment every faculty member waits for when a student stops reciting the law and starts reasoning through it. Third year is usually when that shift happens.
I notice students:
As a teacher, this is genuinely one of the most satisfying years. You start having conversations with students almost as colleagues-in-training rather than as instructor and student.
By fourth year, my role shifts again: less lecturing, more guiding. Students are drafting real legal documents, handling serious internships, and starting to think seriously about their career direction.
This is the year I spend more time:
There’s a quiet pride in watching a student who once hesitated to speak in class now confidently arguing a moot court round or leading a legal aid camp.
Final year is bittersweet for faculty too. The students I once had to encourage to speak up are now the ones training juniors, leading societies, and walking into placement interviews with genuine confidence.
In their last year, I typically see:
Convocation day is always strange for faculty. You’re proud, but there’s also a sense of loss these students who once needed constant guidance now don’t need us in the same way anymore. And that, honestly, is the entire point of the job.
Having taught multiple batches at Lingaya’s Vidyapeeth, the thing that strikes me most isn’t grades or rankings. It’s the transformation in how students:
To every fresher walking in nervous this year: know that your professors see this transformation coming, even if you can’t imagine it yet. That’s exactly why we do this work.
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From
Ms. Mohini Taneja
Assistant Professor
School of Law
Lingaya’s Vidyapeeth