Law Weekly Triumvirate '23
Sai Kulkarni
Production Editor
It’s hard for me to say goodbye to this paper. My two compatriots, Dana Lake ’23 and Jon Peterson ’23, and I have been doing this from the very start of our time together at the Law School. At a time when everything was under lockdown, the paper provided an outlet that evolved into something I truly care about. Under Dana’s stewardship, the three of us have been able to create something really special. I’m so proud of the great work our fellow writers and editors have done during our time here. I genuinely enjoyed being a part of this, and it’s been an influential part of my Law School experience. I am assured in the notion that the team that takes over now will continue the storied tradition that the Law Weekly stands for. We play an important role here, covering important issues and staying plugged into the social pulse of the student body—I am confident that will continue.
With all that out of the way, I wanted to use the rest of my final word budget to talk about the crazy things I’ve written about here. As Jon so accurately described at last week’s planning meeting, I tend to use my space every week to talk about my social life. I’ve done that for two years, and I’m sure many can say it adds no value. To those people I say: Chill. I’ve enjoyed writing about the party side of the Law School experience and adding some levity to the zeitgeist. But I’ve done some serious writing, too. I’m glad to put a spotlight on trans issues, as I did at the start of the year. I enjoyed covering and discussing former Justice Breyer’s visit to the Law School. Most importantly, I’ve enjoyed adding a witty tone to my COPA opinions exploring issues students have with the administration.
Although I’m proud of the few well-written and serious articles I’ve produced, I still take pride in my unserious articles. I hope that they’ve brought a smile to some people’s faces. I hope that another writer finds that niche in the future. I think we often forget, in the midst of the conditions of the world and the intensity of our program, that life has some true joy. I’ve found friends and amazing experiences here at our Law School. I hope my articles have inspired you, dear readers, to put yourselves out there so you can do the same. But what do I know? I’m just another student finishing their writing assignment in the middle of the night.
Jonathan Peterson
Executive Editor
The Law Weekly has been an important part of my Law School career these past three-ish years. I believe I have contributed to the paper forty-two separate times, including this piece, since I’ve been here. It has been so much more to me than just a fun group of people, although it fits that role as well. For me, the Law Weekly has been a cathartic way to build relationships and have open conversations about the Law School in a creative format. And getting to head the paper with two close friends from my 1L section, who I have worked with on the paper these last three years, was nothing short of ideal.
Law school is generally not an environment that fosters creativity, especially not the kind of creativity that isn’t “productive.” By that, I mean that law school creates hierarchies of importance in our life: class, readings, sleep, food, friendship, exercise. Whatever the hierarchy is, many people struggle to see the point in doing things that don’t fit directly into those categories. This was something I was feeling acutely at the start of my 1L—I was isolated because of COVID, living at home, and just generally adrift. I had the time to do most of the things above—sometimes food, friendship, or exercise might not be prioritized—but I was getting it all done. Still, though, I felt lost in the law. I didn’t feel like myself—I felt like I wasn’t living to live.
Obviously, being a writer on the Law Weekly didn’t suddenly show me the meaning of life. But I do think it was an important experience to help me live well. While friends were asking me how I had the time to step away from my readings to write one or two articles a week, I would wonder how they could mentally handle the stressors of law school without that sort of creative outlet. For me, writing for the Law Weekly has never been extra work. It has always been an opportunity to be creative in an environment that I believe stifles creativity. It is a way to show that I value my own values as much as those imposed on me by my current situation. It was a way to show myself where my priorities were, and that felt good.
And despite spending those two-ish hours per week on writing articles, I’ve done well in my three years here. I’ve had fun, I’ve succeeded academically, and I have a job lined up that I am excited for. In fact, the Law Weekly was one of the only extracurriculars employers actually asked me about. So, if you’re thinking about whether it’s a good idea, it is! Come out and make the paper your own.
Dana Lake
Editor-in-Chief
This paper has survived for seventy-five years because somehow, despite all odds, every new Law School class has a handful of people who want it to succeed. The Law Weekly is a kind of self-selecting sieve, where people who wouldn’t otherwise say hello to each other in the hallway find they have a lot in common—namely, that they are the kind of people to pour their hearts into a labor-intensive project for nothing more than the fact that it is fun to do it. The time our editors invest in researching, writing, editing, and planning editions is no small thing—and it is totally voluntary.[1] They expose their messy personal lives, attend events that don’t even have free food, and brainstorm article ideas they hope someone else will write, all in the pursuit of entertaining our loyal readers. This paper wouldn’t exist without each and every one of you. Thank you for joining, and thanks for sticking around through short course due dates and journal tryouts and memos and moot courts. I’m glad we got to meet.
I believe the paper is better when it has a large group of contributors from different backgrounds and social groups, keeping our obscure inside jokes to a manageable handful per edition. There are events different organizations put on throughout the year that don’t get covered, not because they aren’t important, but simply because we have no one to write on it. I hope more people will consider becoming staff editors, working together with the paper to bring different perspectives to our readers. I hope future Law Weekly Executive Boards will work to continue to improve the diversity of the organization and our management.
This paper is a labor of love, but it is definitely labor.[2] There is certainly no other Law School activity I have committed more time to.[3] I worry about this paper when I’m in the shower, when I’m making coffee, when I’m frantically refreshing my email at 5 p.m. every Sunday… If I was billing for all the emotional hours I spent on this thing over the last three years, it would have my firm rethinking my hourly rate. Maybe that’s surprising to hear, considering the cool-guy, laid-back, laissez faire attitude the paper has carefully cultivated over the decades and also the amount of errors we make in publishing.[4] We sometimes make people unhappy; hopefully, more often than not, we have made you smile.
Despite all that, and despite the huge number of emails I have had to respond to because of the paper, there is no other organization I would rather have spent my time on. Working on the Law Weekly has been fun. I’m going to really miss it.[5] While I’m looking forward to saying hello 3LOL, I am a little sad to say goodbye Law Weekly.
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omk6cg@virginia.edu
jtp4bw@virginia.edu
dl9uh@virginia.edu
[1] Despite what some editors might tell you.
[2] There may be nothing that sums up my Law Weekly experience more than both of the above submissions, heartfelt and compelling as they are, being submitted late.
[3] I won’t specify if this includes class readings.
[4] I myself have had my own articles printed with misspelled headlines, I have overseen editions where Dean “Golubuff” has offered her best wishes to the student body, and I have egregiously conflated Washington State University with the University of Washington.
[5] Though I will move on far more gracefully than some former EICs I could name.