I had the pleasure of competing at the 2025 Osgoode Cup this weekend, Canada’s largest undergraduate moot competition. The Cup takes this iconic picture of all the competitors sitting and listening to the Day One opening address; while I stare at that picture, the sheer scale of the Canadian moot landscape becomes so clear. That picture reminds me that this thing – to me, my addiction, hobby and guru – holds a special place in other people’s hearts too. It’s also a wonderful reminder of what extracurriculars and community-building activities can do when they have the financial support and established name like the Osgoode Cup does.
This was my ninth moot competition. When I was sharing this with my fellow competitors, it made me realize how much time I’ve invested in this amorphous “thing”. I’ve many so many memories from it and have learned something from each round. I’m grateful that along with my share of bad rounds, I’ve had the privilege of collecting a lot of hardware from my competitions which I keep in this old shoebox in my closet.
You know that question, “If your house is burning down, what are the five things you’d run into the house and take with you?” When I started out mooting, one of my trophies would likely have made my top five. I’d have told you that the trophy reminded me of how it felt to see your hard work pay off, and would be symbolic motivation for me to keep going. And they still do symbolize these things to me. But this weekend, I realized I really wouldn’t and shouldn’t bother trying to pick up what is, at it’s core, a piece of metal.
What I would run back into a burning house to grab is my moot notebook. I’ve been using it to make moot notes since my second competition, meaning today it pages are canvassed with case references I no longer remember, lots of underlines and circling, and scrabbly one-word notes from when I’ve gotten questions on competition day. It’s barely discernable. But that notebook to me is the spirit and heart of my moot memories. Flipping back through the pages is like flipping back through time.
And you know what’s funny? I’ll prepare my submissions and dress up for competition day to look all “lawyer-like”, professional and stoic. But my moot notebook – this must-have for me – is one of those DIY Motivational-type Scrapbooking notebooks where you write down your life goals and decorate it with stickers and those fancy shaped paper clips (these all came with the notebook, but I’m not much of a decorator). As opposed to matching the professional and stoic demeanour I strive to put on, my notebook reads “Love the life you lead” and is embossed with gold flowers making for this philosophical, motivational cover. It feels so out of place.
Unlike living things which exude life, items and objects need to be given life. Regardless of if they are made to look or feel a certain way, they mean something because they are given that meaning. And when I think about what a trophy means to me over what that notebook means to me, the amount of ink on those pages reflects the amount of life I’ve embedded into it. I’ve poured so much of myself into it that is now has this human-like quality to it.
The most human thing about my notebook is that it reflects not just the number of rounds I’ve won, but the number of rounds I’ve lost (a lot!). When I re-read some notes I’ve made, I remember the frustration and confusion I felt in those moments. The notebook reflects my lows and highs in those extemporaneous moments, and I feel my trophies can make the mistake of reflecting what can be misappropriated by a “high”. The notebook is imperfect on the outside and reflects this very non-linear journey I’ve had in my moot journey.
Osgoode Cup 2025 was my last competition of my third year, and my notebook still has some room in it. I’m really looking forward to filling up the remainder of the pages during my fourth year.
In the case of A Piece of Metal v. The Notebook SCC (2025), the winner is the Respondent (The Notebook).
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