Darius Adel '24
Satire Editor
Navigating social interactions can be a little bit like exploring a dungeon full of high-level skeletons and slimes. In video games, you have the freedom to choose what kind of class you’ll be before setting out on your quest. In real life, you already have preset stats. Last week, I ventured out to the Admitted Students Activity Fair and got to observe the different student admit archetypes. There is no one type of admitted student. Creating these categories is ultimately a flawed endeavor, since most of my interactions boiled down to two-minute conversations while orbiting around the student org tables.
The first type of student was actually a disguised mimic that cleverly tried to fool me, the Overbearing Parent. If I didn’t know better, I would have thought they were the ones about to attend law school. Being interested in the school is one thing, but I listened to one parent talk over their child repeatedly while asking about clerkship numbers. Another overzealous parent I spoke to had a bit of a Freudian slip, saying, “I’m still deciding between UVA and Penn.” I’m sure they have a great relationship with their kid.
The second and thankfully more common archetype I saw was the Swag Lord. This person is decked out in all the latest UVA gear. I’m not just talking about hats or hoodies. They have a coordinated outfit down to the blue and orange socks. I imagine that this person prayed at the UVA Law altar every night before getting their acceptance letter. This admit has a mental map of the school and already knows what Libel sketch they are going to write as a 2L. High-level ones may even have access to secret knowledge, like what a Wahoo is and the meaning of collegial. Their love for the Law School is contagious, and that makes them my favorite type of admit.
I dealt with a few students who fall under the Archeologist archetype. These people have intensity. Every conversation is a treasure to be unearthed. They have no qualms with asking the harder questions in their search for knowledge. The reason I enjoyed talking to these people so much is because I could tell they were sincere and serious about picking the right school. One admit asked me if the school’s clerkship numbers were inflated due to the Federalist Society and what their chances of landing a liberal clerkship would be here. Another asked why our public service support lags behind many of our peers and if UVA is just a law-school-to-BigLaw pipeline. Such pointed questions were a bit jarring to hear, but I appreciated them. It is clear that these people have done their research. They see past the fancy website banners and glossy brochures and are thinking critically about their acceptance decision.
In direct opposition to the Archeologist is their failson brother, the Keg Fiend. These ones were hard to spot, but I did find a few in the wild. You can identify them from a distance by the thick forearms they’ve developed from dual-wielding borgs. This person spent all of Thursday snooping around for the best pre-games and parties for the weekend. “Do I have a plug at the school?? Sorry, no, but you can borrow a charger at the library.”[1] As I’m writing this article on Saturday morning, this person is probably throwing up somewhere within a three-mile radius of me and regretting their decisions.
Next, we have the Scholar. These people are all business, all the time. Brooks Brothers gingham shirt? Check. Fleece vest? Check. Firm handshake and unshakable eye contact? Check. I don’t really have much to say about this type of admit, except that they are definitely a type. As someone who usually rolls to class in a wrinkled t-shirt and faded corduroys that I haven’t washed since leaving California, I admire how put-together they are. They are usually very polite, yet distant. They came to the Admitted Students Open House this weekend because it is a box to cross out on their giant checklist, which started in the womb and culminates in them becoming a judge magister of the new world order.[2]
I feel a bit silly categorizing people I spent between one to five minutes interacting with. That being said, first impressions are powerful. Just like in a good roleplaying game, your starting class isn’t necessarily what you will end up as. People are complicated and probably house multiple archetypes within them. The fun part about getting to know someone is being surprised by their unexpected qualities. It will be enjoyable to really get to know some of these people next year. Who knows, maybe the Keg Fiend will become a pious Judicial Warrior. Or, maybe the Scholar will become a Constitutional Necromancer.
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dsa7st@virginia.edu