Socializing Should be a 4 Credit Class


Sai Kulkarni ‘23
Culture Editor


Once you are past your first semester in law school, you are allowed to pick electives and set the number of credits you are taking. If you plan ahead, you can ensure that each of your final two semesters consists of the bare minimum—12 credits.[1] You will find, however, that no matter how many credits you take, there remains minimal time to actually study. Every time you sit down to plan ahead for the week, you will find at the end, you did not meet that plan at all. This article is going to explain why that is.

The answer is not that you are a slacker. Despite the fact that some people make jokes about not caring about law school,[2] we all made it to a Top 10 school in our field. This excellent institution does not accept slackers into its ranks; we all studied hard and excelled at some point in our careers prior.[3] The truth is, you are actually spending your time on something that is very important. Much like your classes, it is a required element of the law school experience and you must spend adequate time on it that you need. It's a part of developing your personality and of getting the most out of this experience. As a logical, intelligent law student, you probably think I am describing your extracurriculars. First of all, no. Who would even do such a thing?[4] I’m actually talking about the importance of socializing.[5]

Most of us have taken advantage of Bar Review by now.[6] We all have friends to hang with or are in the process of making friends and thus have to go to many events or hangouts to solidify those budding friendships. That is to say nothing of the 1Ls who are almost socially obligated to participate in everything that their sections do.[7] That part, socially obligated, underlies this article. Between social pressures, the need to relax, and long term benefits, socializing as a whole becomes almost required as part of law school. The Law School, then, should recognize that, and give us the credit for meeting this requirement. Specifically 4 credits for this. Perhaps the Administration should treat it as something like—a class?

Debauchery and pretty good deals at the Virg. Photo Courtesy of Sai Kulkarni '23.

Debauchery and pretty good deals at the Virg. Photo Courtesy of Sai Kulkarni '23.

You read that right, I believe that the Law School should give us four credit hours per semester as just recognition of our social lives.[8] Let’s take each of those three previously listed reasons and break them down.[9] Social pressures are important to address. All our lives, the scourge of peer pressure has been decried by our teachers, parents, and society in general. But each of these people failed to tell us that life is almost entirely driven by the pressures from society.[10] The Law School should recognize that the young, impressionable 1Ls don’t want to be left behind when all the people they know are making friends and creating a place of comfort within this high-stress environment. Whether they are having fun is irrelevant, new students are more concerned with not being out of the loop during their conversations between classes. Part of the law is doing things we don’t like in favor of our clients, regardless of whether those clients are persons or businesses. Shouldn’t the Law School reward the effort of those students who are trying hard to meet the intense requirements of this program? I think they should.[11]

Speaking of intensity, the next relevant factor is the simple need to relax. Even if it gets annoying, I will keep repeating it:[12] we are in law school. This is an intense place with a course load that often boggles the mind. Add clinics, extended work for summer employers, and externships, and the pressure can quickly get out of hand. The Law School knows that mental health is a problem. Especially in the wake of last year, it should be obvious. On top of expanding the availability of mental health care,[13] offering these credits will not only recognize the efforts that each sociable student takes to manage his or her own sanity but will also encourage other students to just take a break and relax a little.[14] If the Law School is serious about helping students “in these trying times,” this is an easy way to do it.

Finally, let’s discuss the long term benefits. I can still hear Lauren Parker and Kevin Donovan in my mind talking about networking; I doubt I will ever be free from that.[15] But that’s one of the long term purposes that socializing serves. We will all be successful, and developing good relationships can lead to later professional success. There is another, less “gunner,” long term benefit: relationships! Students might find, bump into, or finally make a move during a party or Bar Review that results in future LawHoos. If the Law School promotes this behavior through course credits, they will  be investing in their own future; people are much more likely to send their kids here if the school is the reason those kids exist.

All in all, the Law School has many reasons to legitimize the social behavior that already occurs. We deserve recognition for the work we are doing. And for the OWLs, I guess we can give them a similar course for “life management” instead of incentivizing them to come out. At the end of the day, the Law School should accept and reward socializing as an essential, non-law activity.

---

omk6cg@virginia.edu


[1] If you do this, don’t take one semester of 16 credits 2L. Don’t do it. I am in eternal pain, don’t suffer like me. Please. For your own sanity.

[2] Or make it their entire personality like I do.

[3] Not me, though, and I dare you to find any evidence to the contrary.

[4] Especially writing in a comedy newspaper for the Law School. Who would do something so ridiculous?

[5] Or as I like to call it: getting LIT.

[6] If you haven’t, please do! It's a great way to meet people.

[7] I know it seems like a lot, but go to section softball, it's life changing.

[8] I know my thesis is in the fourth paragraph. Yes, I’m a great legal writer, how dare you think otherwise.

[9] One of my close friends mentioned I have this sentence in each of my articles. I’m not going to change it, I’m just giving her a shoutout.

[10] “Just say no” doesn’t work when it comes to hanging out generally. What do you say to that, Nancy Reagan?

[11] If you don’t think this is intense, try to get space on a table at Virg after midnight. It's a battle.

[12] I refer you to my friend Skylar Drefcinski if you think being annoying makes me stop something.

[13] This is mostly a criticism of the University as a whole.

[14] Yes, this entire article is a bit to convince my public service friends like Parker Kelly and Kathryn McEvoy to hang out with me more.

[15] This is a joke. Thank you to you two and all of OPP for helping me get a job.

Ode to Tiny Door in the Second Floor Hallway


Dana Lake ‘23
Production Editor

 

Tiny doorway on the second floor, we’ve been through a lot together over the last year. I’ve walked by you multiple times a week, every week, since last August. You’ve seen me through the ups and downs of 1L required courses, through making new friends and losing touch with old ones, through my first snowy winter, and back into balmy summer. Seeing you has always been a bright spot in my day, a small moment to let go of the stress of deadlines and outlines and think instead of the limitless possibilities you conceal.

            My running theory, of course, is you protect a Coraline-esque tunnel to some parallel world where Virginia Tech has a T14 law school. There are good parallel worlds, too. I have a whole rotation of them: worlds without COVID and mask mandates, worlds where I’ve already finished school and I’m working full-time. Worlds where I made Law Review and clerk for Justice Sonia Sotomayor, and worlds where I drop out and become a lobster fisherman on Cape Cod. You brought me a few moments of joyful self-care on bad days and several hours of maladaptive daydreaming on really bad days. I noticed you less on good days.

My exact mental projection. Photo Courtesy of a quick internet search. We here at the Law Weekly love intellectual property rights.

My exact mental projection. Photo Courtesy of a quick internet search. We here at the Law Weekly love intellectual property rights.

            Tiny doorway on the second floor, we have some differences. You are tiny and door-shaped. I am a human woman of predictable proportions. You are secretive and closed-off, unknowable beyond the tantalizing “Fire Dampener” sign hastily posted on your frame; I publish hundreds of words of unadulterated stream-of-consciousness on a weekly basis. But I think we have more things in common. We are both here in this school, for one. People pass us in the hall and notice us, or they don’t. Maybe we brighten their day a bit. Hopefully we don’t make it worse.

            I have never tried to open you. You were always minding your own business, doing what tiny doors do best. You don’t have any tiny window for me to peek in while pretending to walk to the breakroom to make sure you aren’t on a phone call before knocking. I wish you were on Microsoft Teams so I could at least see if you have Do Not Disturb turned on, but alas. With your solid wood door closed to the hallway, you might as well be an impenetrable fortress.

Tiny door, you remain a mystery after all this time. Photo Courtesy of Dana Lake '23

Tiny door, you remain a mystery after all this time. Photo Courtesy of Dana Lake '23

            Tiny doorway on the second floor, I wonder if you were as embarrassed as I was when we explained this article idea to Editors Who Will Not Be Named and they immediately walked over and turned your handle. You swung open to reveal a tiny room, very dusty, very unlocked. Probably you have always been unlocked, which seems likely as part of the building’s Fire Code. I wondered why it had seemed like such a bad idea to open you, why I had been so sure I would get in trouble for trying. There was no reason to believe it was a big deal. I don’t even think your hallway has cameras.

            I still smile when I see you in the hall because getting to know you better hasn’t made you less interesting. I still contemplate all the lives I could be living if I wasn’t right here right now, but I don’t need to project them onto you anymore. Instead, now I think about all the mysteries you’ve seen since the Law School moved into this building in 1997. We’re almost the same age, tiny door. That’s another thing we have in common.

            What doors have you been walking by, wondering what’s on the other side without trying the handle? That’s right, sucker, it was a metaphor this whole time. Welcome to the self-reflection article. At the time of this writing, that little door in Slaughter Hall really is unlocked and waiting. Your door probably is too.

---

dl9uh@virginia.edu

Beware of Ticks


Anonymous Contributor

Charlottesville, if you have not yet realized, is hardly a concrete jungle. A charming little town nestled in the midst of forests and mountains, nature is always lurking around the corner.  And so are ticks, as one unfortunate law student recently discovered after being diagnosed with Lyme disease.[1]  Below are some tips to protect yourself from ticks and tick-borne illnesses, taken from the CDC[2] and the Virginia Department of Health.[3]

Ticks are closer than you think.

You do not have to be an avid hiker to be in tick territory. Forests, fields, and the like are all within easy walking distance of law classrooms.[4] Take extra care around forested and shady areas, tall grass, and leaf litter. Stay in the center of trails when possible.

Ticks can be very small, so check closely.

Ticks the size of pinheads are some of the most likely to transmit disease.[5]  Be sure to conduct thorough checks after being in tick habitats, including checks of the back of the knees, neck and hair, armpits, and other body creases and hard-to-see areas.

Wear appropriate clothing and bug spray when in tick habitats.

When in tick habitats, wear bug spray containing DEET or picaridin, and/or clothing treated with permethrin. Also consider wearing long pants tucked into socks. Note that ticks will be more visible on light-colored clothing. Ideally, shower and change promptly after getting back from your outdoor adventures and keep your hiking clothes quarantined after changing until you can run them through the washer and dryer.

Many tick-borne illnesses can be prevented by prompt removal.

Finally, some good news! With some exceptions, many tick-borne illnesses require an estimated 24-hours or more of the tick being attached to transmit.[6] So, don’t freak out too much if you find a tick. The CDC and Virginia Department of Health recommend removing the tick by grasping it with tweezers as close to the skin as possible and slowly pulling upward with gentle pressure until the tick lets go. Wash and disinfect the area afterwards. Dispose of ticks by placing them in alcohol, flushing them down the toilet, wrapping them in tape, or placing them in a sealed bag.

Communicate with your doctor.

If you do get sick, let your doctor know if you have or may have been bitten by a tick in the last month or so. Be sure to report any rashes or abnormal bug bites, but be aware that not everyone with a tick-borne illness gets (or finds) a distinctive rash. Many common tick-borne illnesses can be easily treated, but the earlier the better to avoid long-term side effects.


[1] The student has since recovered after a round of antibiotics.

[2] https://www.cdc.gov/ticks/avoid/on_people.html

[3] For a handy summary of ticks and tick-borne illnesses in Virginia see the following flier by the Virginia Department of Health: https://www.vdh.virginia.gov/content/uploads/sites/90/2020/10/Ticks-and-Tick-borne-Diseases-in-Virginia-Flyer.pdf

[4] Ticks, similarly to the deer and rabbits the author has seen around, do not respect the boundaries of UVA property or city limits.

[5] As illustrated in the flier linked in footnote 3, supra.

[6] Again, see the flier linked in footnote 3 for more details. (It has a lot of great info in a short amount of space!)

Beginners Guide to UVA Football


Caleb Stephens ‘23
Alec Dougherty ‘24
Guest Writers

Surrounded by 43,000 fans, adrift in a sea of orange-clad undergrads, excited, enthusiastic, and completely confused. Was that … “Auld Lang Syne”? 

I’m no stranger to college football. Growing up in North Florida, every Saturday in fall meant one thing: the morning started with College Gameday on ESPN. Traditions loomed large as well; I wasn’t just a college football fan. I was a Florida State fan. From The Chop to Renegade, I knew our traditions, every one. Unfortunately, that availed me little at last Saturday’s game.

Accompanied by a couple of other Law Students making use of our free student admissions, I was completely lost in the UVA traditions. Admittedly, throwing your arm forward with the index and middle finger extended for a first down was pretty straightforward, after some adjustment, but some other traditions seemed simply arcane. In order to gain clarity for all other clueless grad students, I obtained an expert, Alec Dougherty, who covered UVA football for the Cavalier Daily in undergrad, to interview.

 

So, Alec, thank you for being with us today. The first question we have is probably the most central one: what’s up with the swaying and singing “Auld Lang Syne”? 

That would be the The Good Old Song, our “fight song” that we sing after every UVA score. It definitely throws people off since it’s one of the more chill, ballad-y fight songs out there. But on a hot day where your body is likely processing Cane’s chicken and Bud Light from the tailgate, swaying along with your pals is a safe bet to have a good vibe. 

At the end of the swaying we throw people off some more by yelling “Wahoowa, Wahoowa, Uni-V-Virginia, hoo rah rey, hoo ray rey, rey, rey, UVA” and pumping our fists in the air. It’s so quick that I'm not sure that I’ve ever gotten the full chant out, but it’s a cool transition from the swaying.

Thanks, and what exactly is the gesture made when the Cavaliers make a first down? 

When we're waiting for the ref to announce a first down, we hold one hand in the air and sort of do a jazz hand until the announcer goes “AND THAT IS A CAVALIERRRRR”  and we yell back ”FIRST DOWN!” Back when we couldn't really score points years ago it was definitely a highlight of the day.

What is the iconic food of the stadium? I know I was impressed by the mason jar full of lemonade, but is there something that the whole 4th Side (Right? That’s what the fans are called?) agrees is the best?

I haven’t personally had too much stadium food since I'm a big fan of tailgate food. You don't have to walk far outside of the stadium to find good pulled pork and buffalo chicken dip, so definitely make some rounds before going in—everyone out in the lots is so friendly and they love meeting other Hoos fans. I did try the beer selection in the stadium for the first time at the Illinois game (the stadium just started allowing beer consumption throughout the stadium) and I’m a big fan of that addition. Bold Rock makes everything better.

(Side Note—the 4th Side is a new development since I graduated from undergrad in 2019, so still getting used to that. But the free shirts they’re giving out helps.)

Are there other traditions that UVA fans should know before going to a game? 

The “Guys in Ties, Girls in Pearls” tradition has sort of faded over the last few years, but there used to be a common practice of men wearing bow ties and women wearing dresses / pearls to every game. Someone decided that when we weren't playing well a couple decades ago, that if we couldn’t play well, we could at least look damn good. While that’s a hard sell for 11:00 a.m. kickoffs and humid September days, it’s fun and more than acceptable to get classy for a game. 

We’re a fanbase that loves to chill and sway together in the grass with each other as much as we love getting rowdy. The camaraderie is one of a kind, and everyone should go experience it sometime!

Thanks again, Alec. I think I speak for everyone when I thank you for enlightening us before attending another game.

---

cs8ws@virginia.edu

A Nation, and Law School, Divided


Nate Wunderli ‘22
Sports Editor

Recently I came across an article that made it seem like a foregone conclusion that former President Trump is going to run again for the Republican nomination in 2024. While Trump has yet to fully commit to running, it seems apparent that if he feels he can win, he will indeed give it another shot. His popularity has only increased among Republicans since he left office. A recent poll says that 54 percent of Republicans would support him in a hypothetical 2024 primary, which is a return to pre-Capitol riot levels.[1] The share of GOP voters who say Trump should play a major role in the party is up 18 points to 59 percent since a similar survey on January 6-7, and the share of Republicans who think Trump is at least somewhat responsible for the attacks is down 14 points to 27 percent.[2] Even Mitt Romney, a vocal opponent of Trump, has admitted that if Trump were to run, he would probably win the nomination.

            The Democrats, in their effort to erase Trump, have only added to his popularity and invigorated his base. By removing his Twitter and Facebook, they removed his ability to repeatedly shoot himself in the foot with nonsensical and aggressive tweets and posts. It also plays right into the notion that Democrats are trying to censor right-wing speech, an ongoing concern and rallying cry for many Republicans. One of the reasons hard-core Trump supporters are Trump supporters is because he gives them a voice when they previously felt they had none. He attacks their enemies, and he does so with no filter, to the astonishment of many more moderate and left-leaning voters. These hard-core supporters are not going to rescind their support when their enemies take away Trump’s Twitter account; if anything, they will double down. More moderate right-leaning voters can also take a break from Trump’s contradictory and inflammatory personality, and focus on Biden’s incompetency rather than Trump’s own character flaws.

            Trump’s tweets have been reduced to a mere footnote in his presidency, as the right takes aim at the left. A common rhetoric is “yes, Trump sent mean tweets, but have you seen what Biden has done?!” But this misses the point. Trump’s mean tweets are exactly why he should be extricated from politics altogether. Well, the fact that he encouraged, or at least didn’t try to stop, a riot on the Capitol is another reason, as well as spinning an election fraud tale out of whole cloth. But even before any of this, Trump has divided us as families, as a nation, even as a law school. Politics, while always a touchy subject, is now utterly taboo unless you’re around other like-minded individuals. The fact that you can’t openly debate important issues in a forum such as a top-tier law school is a serious downside because there are plenty of important issues out there where two sides need to be considered. Instead, people are reduced to living in their own echo chamber, where they only hear from and talk to people that think like them. No one is forced to reconcile their beliefs with the opposite point of view, or with facts that may not be so favorable to their position. No one is learning how to have a mature conversation with someone that thinks differently from them. This is no small footnote to Trump’s legacy; this is Trump’s legacy.

            There has always been division in this nation. People used to shoot each other in duels over disagreements. We had a Civil War. But Trump has used this division, stoked it, and poured gasoline on it to the point where the fire is burning out of control. He created a nation where tribalism reigns supreme, and one side does not even attempt to understand the concerns and problems of the other side. He has given power and a megaphone to others with similarly divisive tones, and when caught red-handed, he simply points to the other side and, like a child, chants “you started it.”

            It is sad that in this country, with so many competent, smart, hard-working, kind, and humble people, we cannot seem to get someone in charge with any semblance of qualities that make a good leader. There are hundreds of people just in this law school alone that I would trust to lead this nation right now over Biden or Trump. People who are fearless and strong, yet also kind and understanding. People who are smart in their own right, yet also understand the importance of working with others and getting the best team possible around them. A leader who is respected by their peers, while also acting as a role model for the younger generation. These, along with others, are the qualities we are taught leaders should have, yet tragically feel we have to compromise on when the stakes are highest. As educated, elite law students, I believe that we have a duty and an opportunity to erase some of the damage done by politicians on both sides of the aisle and bring people together. While we may never get our first choice of President, we can influence our communities in ways that even the most powerful person on Earth cannot, becoming the leaders that can seem so few and far between in Congress and the White House.


[1] Yokley, Eli, Trump Emerges From Impeachment Trial With Sturdy Backing From GOP Voters (Feb. 2021)

[2] Id.

Fall Semester Concert Preview


Samira Nematollahi ‘23
Guest Writer

If you are a music fiend like me, then I know that the lack of concerts has severely impacted your mental health. But concerts are back, baby! Charlottesville and the surrounding areas have some amazing artists coming in the next few months, and I have compiled a list of my must-see shows for the semester so you don’t have to. Yes, I am partly using this as a way to reform some of the bad taste in music floating around the Law School and I am not afraid to admit that.

It’s important to mention that the COVID-19 pandemic is not over, and we still need to take precautions. That is why the venues for each of these concerts requires proof of vaccination or a negative test and encourages masking.

 

Big Thief – The National, Richmond

September 24

For those of you who are down for a last-minute show, check out Big Thief’s show at The National. First, The National is just an amazing venue and worth going to at least once. Second, Big Thief is a staple in indie folk music and a good starting place for people who are trying to expand their music taste. The band has not released an album since Two Hands and U.F.O.F. in 2019, but they have released a few singles off their upcoming album. You will no doubt fall in love with lead singer Adrianne Lenker’s enchanting voice, and you’re in luck because she will be in D.C. for her solo tour on November 13th.

 

All Things Go Festival – Merriweather Post Pavilion, Columbia, MD

October 16 

For those of you who want to go to a music festival, All Things Go is one of the closer ones and features some of today’s best pop artists. Two of my favorites on the lineup are Charli XCX and Tkay Maidza, both of whom had incredible releases within the past two years and are certainly going to deliver amazing performances. Other notable artists include HAIM, St. Vincent, Soccer Mommy, and Gus Dapperton. For those of you who are wary of being in a crowded venue, this festival is outdoors so you can bring a blanket and distance as much as you want!

 

George Clanton – The Southern Café & Music Hall, Charlottesville

October 17

If you want to venture into niche genres but don’t know which, you should check out George Clanton. He is a pioneer of vaporwave, but his more recent releases also showcase shoegaze and bedroom pop influences. Clanton is an artist to check out in his own right, but I also want to highlight one of the openers, Magdalena Bay. I have only recently begun listening to them, and I am hooked. They are synth pop perfection and are set to release their new album Mercurial World just before the show. To get a taste of both of these artists, you can check out “Make it Forever” by George Clanton and “Secrets (Your Fire)” by Magdalena Bay.

 

Parquet Courts – The National, Richmond

October 29

Now for a rock concert. Parquet Courts are best known for their punk vocals and danceable driving bass lines. I was first introduced to Parquet Courts by their 2018 critically-acclaimed release Wide Awake. This album is centered on themes of oppression, violence, and white privilege, and lead singer Andrew Savage channels them into his aggressive vocal performance.[1] Parquet Courts is now set to release their next album Sympathy for Life on October 22. In the creation of this record, their goal was to incorporate dance music culture into their rock music, so I can only expect that the danceability of their songs will be even greater.[2]

 

This is obviously not an exhaustive list of concerts, and there are so many more great bands coming that I do not have room to dive into (e.g., Orville Peck, TV Girl, Crumb). Even if you don’t know any of the artists performing, grab a group of friends and go for the vibes – I would want to speed memorize all of their lyrics so I can sing along, but that’s just me.

 ---

sn5gc@virginia.edu


[1] https://www.npr.org/sections/allsongs/2018/05/18/611329053/the-outrage-angst-and-optimism-of-parquet-courts-wide-awake-track-by-track

[2] https://www.nme.com/news/music/listen-to-parquet-courts-walking-at-a-downtown-pace-from-new-album-sympathy-for-life-3022287

Tips for Returning to Normalcy: Dining Out


Jonathan Peterson ‘23
Satire Editor & Photographer


“Slow readers how are y’all doing today”, and welcome back to another week of steadily realizing that our social skills have been impacted by this pandemic to a far greater magnitude than we ever could have imagined. This week, we’ll be talking about something that mostly only 3Ls have the time and money for: dining out. As has been the trend with all the prior topics, the social situation at hand is, like a high school drama club performance, ripe with the possibility for error and embarrassment. However, this doesn’t mean you must relegate yourself to ordering through a restaurant’s delivery app. Follow these tips and believe what I tell you and, at the very least, you’ll be blissfully ignorant enough to leave the restaurant not understanding that things went as horribly as they did.

            Obviously general dining etiquette applies to eating out just as much as, if not more than, it does to eating at home. Chew with your mouth closed, don’t talk and eat at the same time, use your napkin as appropriate, etc. These norms, while important, aren’t the interpersonal activities that are the focus of these articles. Instead, we look to interactions with the staff as our main learning area in today’s tips.

             The first thing to remember when talking to staff is simple—you’re not as funny as you think you are. You weren’t funny before the pandemic, and you most certainly have not gotten funnier after your months locked up inside without another human in sight, let alone a human laughing at your jokes.[1] And even if I were to stipulate that you, being the special little gift to this world that you are, are in fact funny, I can almost definitely assure you that the overworked fifteen-year-old bringing you water does not care to hear your comedy routine in the slightest. And for the record, lest you doubt my assertions based on prior experiences which involved laughing waiters, let’s not forget about one thing: tips. Your typical comedy routine does not involve the comedian paying the audience to attend, listen, and laugh, with further payment contingent on their performance. Just keep that in mind the next time you're entirely off-point “I’ll have what she’s having,” lands a half-hearted laugh from that fifteen-year-old.

            Tipping is another big one, and something I can be brief about. Just because we now have the blessed ability to pay for our meals online is not an excuse to tip less. In fact, the only excuse to tip less would be if restaurant employers paid their employees enough that we didn’t have to subsidize the entire restaurant by covering their paycheck as well as your overly drunk friend’s six-margarita tab. Just like the Constitution establishes the floor and not the ceiling, so too does the general belief that 20 percent is an appropriate tip. Be better, go above and beyond, and really pay up for that forced laughter you received earlier. It’s only fair.

            Onto the final point: seating arrangements. If you’re on a one-on-one date, please, sit across from each other. No, don’t talk back to me, don’t try to explain yourself, I don’t want to hear it. If there are two empty chairs across from both of you as you crane your necks to look deep into the eyes and nostrils of your beloved, stop doing that. It wasn’t okay before Covid, and it hasn’t become okay after. Honestly, this isn’t even a Covid tip. I just needed a platform to put this opinion out there.

---

jtp4bw@virginia.edu


[1] For the record, laughs coming from your parents or significant others do not count. They might feel affirming but let’s call it like it is: bias.

A 1L Review of Dandelion


Nikolai Morse ‘24
Guest Editor

This past Saturday, future attorneys general, law firm partners, and all manner of other brochure buzzwords gathered to engage in the ritual hazing induction of the 1L class known as Dandelion. The beautiful weather, free pizza and beverages, and the (sometimes unnerving) eagerness of the 2Ls to celebrate a ritual they missed last year, all contributed to an excellent time. The 1Ls danced, the 2Ls and 3Ls laughed and applauded, and for a while we all forgot about mask theater. 

Section A kicked things off with the most clever legal pun / theme of the day: AB(B)A. Set to “Dancing Queen”, the group dressed in flashy clothes (including a pair of purple short-shorts which one bystander called “uncomfortable for the audience and performer alike.”) Minor acrobatics and spirited inclusion of the audience earned Section A an honorable mention. 

Next came Section B, whose initial performance begged the question, “How far can a uniform take a performance?” However, some incredible solo dances and the group’s increasingly enthusiastic hip movement won over the judges, yielding Section B 2d place. This reporter awards extra points for the pyrotechnics and the Backstreet Boys theme, including headsets.

With the bar set high for the section without Friday classes, Section C came to play with an overall impressive performance and widely applauded music choice. Section C gets extra credit for the most unnerving use of grapefruit juice imaginable. Confusion over section C’s theme aside, the judges awarded them 1st place. Unfortunately, their success on the stage did not translate to the softball field against the not-entirely-sober NGSL. Let’s hope there are some Friday practices in Section C’s future.

Section D: confusion reigns. What this group’s theme was, or why they neglected the obvious choice of “DONDA-lion” is anyone’s guess. The only thing that is certain is that in an event where other teams actively try not to get first seed, Section D redefined “gunner” by showing up in full softball gear, prepared to face NGSL. This reporter offers them extra points for their confidence and looks forward to seeing them on the field.

With four students dressed as professors leading the group, Section E took the stage. Gasps and suggestive hoots followed the risqué portrayal of Professor Bamzai, including a surprising degree of flexibility that this reporter hopes carries over into real life. Big points for the #FREEBRITNEY theme. Minor points deducted for it being very unclear how this related to the letter “E”. A well-earned 3rd place finish.

Section F - With arguably the most well-coordinated dance routine, Section F gets an A- for dancing, but a D+ for repeating section B’s Backstreet song (but a mitigating B+ for having much better matching outfits). Solid A for a strong finish with Fergalicious and (presumably) this being their theme. This reporter firmly believes they should have been on the podium and has already lodged a complaint against NGSL in the local small claims court.

Section G, where to begin? All the ingredients were there: matching flannels, a “hoe-down” pun, and Miley Cyrus. But just like Kanye’s last two albums, it somehow never came together. Given the overall confusion, the only thing we can say with certainty is that they did not come anywhere near the bar Section A set. A+ for effort.

Wrapping things up, Section H began their routine with trap music and an energy so intense many audience members visibly stepped back. Extra points for the I <3 Hot Moms T-shirt (also assuming this is the theme?) Points docked for the Pats jersey. Easily the grittiest (scariest, even) performance of the day, and truly helped Dandelion go out with a bang. 

In closing, Dandelion lived up to its true purpose as an incredible welcome for the 1Ls, followed by a hearty consolation rave for the 2Ls to blow off some clearly pent-up steam. And Section G, we’ll see you and your flannels on the softball field.

---

cpg9jy@virginia.edu

A Modest Proposal: 2Ls Must Do Dandelion


Will McDermott ‘22
Staff Editor


UVA Law is a place of tradition. These traditions are the foundation of our culture and bring us together. The annual Dandelion Parade began in 1984 and there is only one law school class who has not performed said rite of passage, the Class of 2023.

Dandelion is one of UVA Law’s cornerstone traditions. Every year, 1Ls gather at the Park with their sections and perform in ways that somehow resemble both interpretive dance and TikTok. The express purpose of the Dandelion Parade is to let loose with your section, make fools out of yourself, and bond with the group that you will spend most of your law school experience with. I know many 3Ls (and now probably 1Ls) would agree that the sections that got the most out of the experience are those that leaned into that purpose.

The current 2L class never experienced this bonding. It was enough of a shame that they missed their first year of Bar Review and those obligatory weekly 1L section pregames – but we cannot sit idly by as they glide through law school without dancing to nonsense in front of the entire school at the Park.

I have addressed this with several 2Ls and have received mixed responses, but something tells me that those who do not see the importance of performing this ritual are the ones who would not have leaned into the purpose of the ancient tradition. For instance, I heard: “I don’t want to do Dandelion because I only do what I want.” – Paige Kennett ’23.[1] Conversely, Daniella Roselló ’23 stated, “I simply cannot imagine how we could be the only UVA Law class to not dance at Dandelion.”

Until now, COVID was to blame for the Class of 2023 not being offered the opportunity to make Dandelion Parade performances. But with all of our nonexistent Law Weekly power, we charge the 2L class to decide for themselves whether they do Dandelion. 3Ls will indeed find a way to facilitate the event, and we would be glad to do so. At the end of the day, if a 2L GroupMe vote results in “No,” they will forever have to live with knowing they decided not to do the majestic dance, rather than having COVID as an excuse.

---

wjm7ym@virginia.edu


[1] Let it be known that shortly after this utterance, the Dandelion gods sought revenge and a part of the PA system fell on Paige. But don’t worry, she’s mostly okay.


The Type B Law-Hoo


Will Holt ‘23
Reviews Editor

Some people say the last vanished in the Great Purge of  '08-09. Others contend that a few persist in the exotic, uncharted lands beyond the T14. A handful of UVA students even claim to have seen a glimpse of one, a “Type B” law student, wandering North Grounds at night, driven mad by student loan debt and amphetamines. It pains me to say that, even after conducting considerable research, we at the Virginia Law Weekly can neither verify nor falsify any of these claims; the paper simply lacks the resources to conduct such an investigation. I can, however, cut through some of the myth surrounding these unique creatures, hopefully providing some clarity as to their true nature.

            The first and most important factor to remember when discussing the Type B law student is the paradox of his existence. He participates in the same academic and career-oriented activities as other law students: lectures, cite-checks, and OGI pollute his schedule to a similar degree. But unlike most other students, he suffers from base instincts that lead him to crave the freedoms and joys of a more balanced life. This does not imply that J.D. candidates of the standard-type do not long for greater liberty than law school can provide. They do indeed. Each neuron and synapse in a standard-type’s brain does not, however, fry whenever forced to process information from The Bluebook as do their analogs in the brain of a Type B student. Many law students find the building and color-coding their weekly planners to be a soothing process. A Type B doesn’t know what a planner is. To him, each day is a collection of possibilities that cannot be defined or cataloged on a single page. Most importantly, a Type B fears ambition as much as he respects it. He sees the trait as not just an extension of one’s inner drive but as a hybridization that combines such tenacity with selfish desire. As a result, sacrificing his freedom on the road to success may strike him as a Faustian bargain, not just as a cost of playing the game.  

            Although perhaps novel to some of my readers, the above characteristics do not represent our subject's most perplexing aspect. The existence of each and every Type B student raises a common question: why does he remain in an environment that so poorly comports with his nature? As one may expect, the potential answers to this question vary. Some possess liberal arts degrees which provide few other opportunities to earn a sizable income. Others enter law school with noble convictions and persist in their studies for reasons of altruism. A few Type Bs, although not pride-bound, draw strength from dogged determination alone.

            Irrespective of his particular motivation for staying, however, a student of this Type necessarily dissociates himself from the arbitrariness and folly that is law school, or else he faces psychological collapse. As Tennyson wrote of the six hundred, “[His] not to make reply, [His] not to reason why, [His] but to do and die.” To put it bluntly, a degree of fatalism proves absolutely mandatory. One may easily confuse such resignation with the carefree attitude that defines Type B personalities in other environments. But do not be fooled, the latter mentality inevitably wilts at some point during the first semester.  

            Little else is known of these enigmatic beings; the records contain little insight as to where Type Bs matriculate after law school or how they perform relative to their peers. As I mentioned previously, even their numbers remain a mystery. However, I like to think⁠—or rather I hope⁠—that some still study amongst us. Otherwise, I fear I may be the only one.

 ---

wjh4ew@virginia.edu

Tips for Returning to Normalcy: Personal Space


Jonathan Peterson ‘23
Satire Editor & Photographer

Welcome back to the second edition of Tips, a column that will continue running until people learn that I am decidedly not a trusty advisor for social interactions or until I run out of ideas. Last week, we covered bathroom politics in what must have been one of the least-important pieces published in this newspaper’s history.[1] This week, we deal with personal space, a difficult and subjective field made even more complex by last year’s mandatory-minimum six feet of distance rule (which I’m certain all students adhered to—all 72 inches).

            The maxim “less is more” is almost always applicable. Brevity in writing is appreciated. The strong, silent, mysterious types always seem to draw the most intrigue. And the man[2] breathing down my neck as I wait in the self-checkout line at Harris Teeter certainly adds immeasurable pleasure to my day. You see the issue. While the saying holds true in many circumstances, less is simply not more when it comes to personal space. If I can smell your breath while we’re talking, you had better be a friendly dog[3] or a more-than-friendly friend at Bar Review. No exceptions.

             However, while less is not more, that is not to say that more is more. Certainly, there is a point at which distance becomes uncomfortable. If I’m making hand-cup-to-ear gestures at you to physically show you that I can’t audibly understand you, you’re probably too far away. Bar Review, again, supplies a perfect example of the complexity of this situation—everyone’s personal bubble is different, and it’s up to you as an individual to be receptive to others’ discomfort. Don’t be the guy in Harris Teeter—think for a second about whether the person you’re approaching is making bug-eyes or heart-eyes at you.

            To further complicate this, the thing you are planning on doing can affect people’s desire to distance themselves from you. If you’re the grapefruit-juice-guy at Dandelion,[4] most people’s personal bubble increases dramatically when you pop that top. Although, to illustrate the issue here, I would have loved to be in close proximity to Section C’s dominant performance.[5] Other activities which might change a person’s desire for space include, but are not limited to: public make-outs, general screaming, certain kinds of political participation, and much more. This is, clearly, not a bright-line rule. However, one simple fact of this standard is that relatively few actions will make people want less personal space—a general conversation is probably when personal space requirements are at their lowest. However, most other activities serve only to heighten an individual’s need for space.

            I know these last two tips have included multiple dog references  but I’m going to do it again. People, like dogs, have different standards for space. Not all of us are golden retrievers and labradors. In fact, very few of us are, especially after this pandemic. Honestly, as I write this stream-of-consciousness, I think people are more like cats. Some are insufferably needy, most hit a nice middle ground, while others will absolutely maul you given the slightest chance. You should assume that people, until proven otherwise, fit into that third category of cats. Less isn’t more, and more may not be more, but treating people like cats is the Goldilocks “just right” solution to this problem. And with that, see you next week, all you cool cats and kittens.[6]

---

jtp4bw@virginia.edu


[1] I am incredibly proud to be an active contributor to this decline.

[2] Let’s be honest, it’s always a man.

[3] Yes, I talk to dogs.

[4] I assume that was grapefruit juice but someone should probably call Snopes for this one.

[5] Big shoutout from this author to the section who imitated professors, and specifically to whoever was playing Professor Hellman. I had her for ConLaw and that was hilarious.

[6] I refuse to apologize for this.

Unsolicited Advice for Students Seeking Private Practice


Dana Lake ‘23
Production Editor

This article is inspired by my own choices through On Grounds Interviews (OGI). For 1Ls, OGI happens in stages. The first and longest stage, which you are already in, is networking. Then comes bid selection, then screeners, and hopefully callbacks and offers. All the way through callbacks, I found myself regretting choices I made along the way. So here is some unsolicited advice, from someone not so far removed from the process, who could have avoided a lot of trouble by reading something like this in the fall of her first year.

Lawyers love to rank things. It makes sense, considering that we’re a profession built from some of the world’s most competitive people. In law school there is a real feeling that every part of your resume exists on a continuum from worthless to gold, with the dreaded median in between. One example among hundreds is how we treat journals. It isn’t enough to be on a journal for the experience and community it can bring—there is a best journal, and the others are secondary. An offer from Law Review isn’t something you turn down, even if the content of a specialty journal is something you’re genuinely interested in. Even among the specialty journals there is an understood hierarchy. The pattern repeats again and again—we rank law schools so it seems like there are fourteen that really matter and the rest are borderline scams, even if privately most people can acknowledge the US News and World Report list is an easy system to game. We rank students by GPA but grade on a curve, so that some will always have to be on the bottom no matter how finely we need to split the hairs between exams to make it so.

For competitive people, even those who call themselves “collegial,” this is fun. It’s fun to try and be the best at something, and it’s fun to win. This author would not dare to suggest otherwise. The problem comes when this mindset is carried outside the law school bubble and contaminates the real world.

When you are deciding between public service and private practice, the V100 is something you’ll hear a lot about. If you’re new to the legal field, go to Vault.com and find the top one hundred list of best firms to work for. Just thinking about it, a list like this seems like total hoopla. We rank markets in a similar way, with New York and DC and Los Angeles existing in a mythic plane above the rest of the world. Will you be 100 times happier at Cravath in D.C. than at Hunton Andrews in Miami? Is it some guarantee you’ll get along with your co-workers and spend your time doing substantive work in a field you love? Are the compensation packages even that different if you account for taxes? No. But the big firms are similar to the big law schools, and just like you’ll find people who believe Georgetown might as well have shut its doors when UCLA overtook it last year, there are people who believe a firm that falls outside the V100 (or even drops in ranking) is suddenly a toxic place, probably without any clients and paying associates a measly $170,000.

It makes sense, given how the private practice hiring process is structured, to go to the best law school that will accept you. It makes sense to boost your resume by participating in extracurriculars you don’t necessarily care about in order to be the most competitive applicant you can be. It makes no sense at all to carry that thought process through to the real world.

The problem is thinking that the achievements you unlock are the end in themselves. To employers, they are a sign you have the skills needed for the world of billable hours. But if you are unbearable to be around, or even if you are wonderful to be around but terrible at interviewing, you’ll lose out on opportunities to people that on paper seem less qualified. That’s because firms are a business, and the pursuit of prestige is carried only so far as it helps the business.

Students need the same mindset when choosing a firm. All the lists of rankings in the world will tell you only which firms have the best PR teams, but still the temptation to “do the best you can” is incredible. It’s probably what you’ve tried to do your whole life up until now, and in many ways it is the easier course. Choosing where to start your career is absolutely overwhelming, and it requires a lot of questions only you know the answer to. It doesn’t help that these are all decisions that you have to make during one of the busiest years of your life so far. It’s a much simpler matter to choose prestige. This appeal is simply to say, if you are trying to build a real career or relationship or family, choosing the most prestigious option, if that choice is based on prestige alone, won’t make you happy in any way that matters. There will always be someone doing better. Think about what is really valuable to you and the life you want to live outside of work, and look for a firm that aligns with those goals.

---

dl9uh@virginia.edu

Complete and Accurate Ranking of Local Golf Courses


Phil Tonseth ‘22
Editor-in-Chief


I take pride in three things about my tenure at UVA Law: 1) I am a fiend for softball and will literally play for anyone who asks;[1] 2) I play golf at least once a week; and 3) I’ve been able to do both and survive law school while only walking into the library six total times. As I already wrote about my team’s softball exploits in our first edition of the year, it’s time I share my knowledge of the local links. These reviews and their subsequent rankings take not only the difficulty of the course into account, but also how tasty their clubhouse food is.[2]


Meadowcreek Golf Course

Ah, the local municipal course. Just like your old haunts back home, Meadowcreek’s best feature is its reliability. It knows what it is, what clientele it attracts, and what the generally appropriate cost someone ideally wants to play a round of golf.[3] Meadowcreek also understands that during the day, some people are busy or have work. To still incentivize people to come play, they offer a reduced rate at twilight in case anyone wants to get a few holes in without paying full price for a normal round. Speaking of cost, I have done the full price comparison, but I think it’d be a push if you were comparing the price of a case of PBR to a round at Meadowcreek. Also, don’t worry about having to dress to the nines to play here. I’ve seen people in jorts and cowboy hats balling at Meadowcreek without a care in the world.

            After all of this, you may ask why you’d ever play somewhere else? Well, there’s a lot of times at Meadowcreek where you’re legitimately playing in a field. The grass isn’t always in the best shape, the difficulty mirrors a challenging putt-putt course, and the cemetery just next to the green on hole 15 always throws me off.

            Rating: Like trying to shotgun warm Bud Light. You know what you signed up for.


Old Trail Golf Club

For a pretty penny and a hike out to Crozet, Old Trail is a sneakily good course. Old Trail’s best features are the views,[4] low cost for a cart, and degree of difficulty. Downsides you ask? Well, the rough at Old Trail is thicker than a Snicker™, if you catch my drift. If you don’t have a playing partner with a keen eye or simply don’t bring enough balls, good luck surviving the full round. Does that mean I don’t recommend Old Trail? Absolutely not. This course builds you up with inviting shots, draws you in with views that could rival a Van Gogh, and is far enough away from C’ville that you can disappear and forget about your problems for a few hours.

            Rating: A Trashcan from Bilt. You don’t normally splurge, but you want to have a good time when you do.

Courtesy of Old Trail Golf Course

Courtesy of Old Trail Golf Course

Birdwood Golf Course

As the University’s course, there’s a sense of loyalty and belonging when one walks onto the first tee at Birdwood. There’s also the sweeping realization that you just spent over $100, as a student, to play a course where you’ll probably lose at least five golf balls. With that in mind, you try to make the most of the experience. $20 for a 6-pack from the cart girl? Check. Pay another arm and a leg at the turn for a hotdog and French fries? Check. Thinking you’re okay at golf, only to watch every member of both the men’s and women’s UVA golf team embarrass you with their first tee shot? Checkmate.

            Do I like Birdwood? Sometimes. I’ve played there the most amongst all C’ville courses. Would I recommend it? Probably. I’d also recommend they get 1) nicer staff in their restaurant and 2) more trees throughout the course, so that I won’t be the only one throwing shade consistently. 

            Rating: A bottle of Andre Brut Champagne from Wal-Mart

Courtesy of Birdwood Golf Course

Courtesy of Birdwood Golf Course

Spring Creek Golf Club

Off the beaten path, Spring Creek is a hidden gem. I do owe the reader a disclaimer before you read this review, I am a member at Spring Creek. However, my bias and love for the course has been earned, not bought. If you can stomach the ~25 minute drive to Spring Creek, the rewards are bountiful. Like Birdwood, free range balls are included in your round, but Spring Creek’s buckets are endless.[5] I’d argue that Spring Creek’s fairways are manicured to a higher level than both Birdwood and Old Trail with their bent grass fairways rivaling a soft carpet to play off of. While narrower and more difficult than Birdwood, Spring Creek lines their holes with trees to both provide shade, but also allow for errant shots to be found and still played.

            Enough about the golf, let’s chat about their hotdogs. Easily a 10/10, with great service. Not feeling a beer during the round? Try one of their many transfusions: they’re heavy on the pour, light on the mixer. Still not enough for you? What if I told you that instead of riding a cart, you could ride an electric bicycle around the course with your clubs strapped on the back? I fully acknowledge I am a snob for my home course, but it’s well worth the trip (and the membership rates are spectacular for students).[6]

            Rating: A Miller High Life, the Champagne of Beers.

Courtesy of springcreekgolf.com

Courtesy of springcreekgolf.com

---

pjt5hm@virginia.edu


[1] Seriously, text me. I love softball.

[2] In the wise words of Darby Hobbs ’22, “you really can’t beat a good golf course hotdog.”

[3] Read: cheap AF.

[4] Situated in between the mountains, whew. Talk about good pics for the ’gram.

[5] Trust me, don’t waste all of your good shots on the driving range. I do that often.

[6] I’m also always down to play more golf. Hit me up with any questions, or tell me when our next tee time is. (Friday with Doyle?)

Tips for Returning to Normalcy: Bathrooms


Jonathan Peterson ‘23
Satire Editor & Photographer

Welcome back to the real world, you technologically advanced heathens. It’s time to sit down, shut up, and realize we’ve lost all the social skills we went into this pandemic with.[1]

            Our first edition of tips will revolve around the bathroom, although don’t fool yourself, this will not be a comprehensive bathroom discussion. The dos and don’ts of bathroom behavior are many and varied; it would be the height of hubris to assume that I could even cover them all, especially in a measly 600 words. However, today we start with an important point that may be difficult for some of the chattier among us to handle:[2] don’t talk to people, certainly not strangers, while they’re using the bathroom.

            I know, I know, it’s been a long time since you’ve seen a friendly face. It’s hard not getting to talk to and interact with those we know and love since March 2020. However, today I ask you to steel your nerves. Don’t do it. Don’t talk to the guy at the urinal. Don’t engage the girl in the stall next to you in conversation. Even the sinks aren’t appropriate. Truthfully, the bathroom is not the place for conversations, let alone introductions.

            I understand the desire, really, I do. Bathrooms are a safe space. One should feel comfortable at all times, but certainly in the safety of a public restroom. However, I must emphatically tell you: this is neither the time nor space to make friends. That is not my definition of comfort, nor is it likely the relative stranger’s, who you are currently considering striking up a conversation with.[3] Bathrooms are places of business, where people get things done, and get out. Consider the bathroom akin to a New York firm. The only handwringing done should be over the sink—and it should be done in silence.

            For many of you, this advice will be difficult to follow, but not impossible. For those of you reading this and thinking, “How, Jonathan, how can you expect me to handle[4] this pressure? This burden? How will I ever relieve myself[5] of the pent-up stress and anxiety that has grown over the course of these years?” I answer: do it not for yourself, not for me, but for your peers. Those who have also suffered in silence, toiled in turmoil, and wiped away[6] their tears alone, disheartened, for so long. They may not be ready, in fact, they likely are not, to engage in conversation with a stranger directly after, or worse, during, what should be a moment of blissful relief.

            And, finally, don’t ever engage in physical contact in a bathroom, regardless of how benign it might seem to you in the moment. Again, I understand, I truly do, that for those of us who cite “physical touch” as their #1 love language, this pandemic has been difficult. However, again, the bathroom is neither the time, nor the space, to fulfill this need. Remain strong and continue on in isolation for as long as it must take to exit the bathroom. I promise there’s a perfectly good dog out there somewhere for you to pet that will satisfy this need. And that dog is not the person standing at the urinal, or whose feet you can see beneath the stall as you ask yourself “is someone in there?”

            In sum: don’t do it. Leave people alone in the bathroom. They’ll thank you later, in a more reasonable environment to be exchanging pleasantries, as opposed to toiletries.

---

jtp4bw@virginia.edu


[1] For some of us, including the author of this piece, this may not be a very devastating loss.

[2] Do you see the pun here?

[3] Dear God, if I am that relative stranger, you and I will have a problem reaching far into the future.

[4] There it is again.

[5] Another one.

[6] Are you getting tired of these yet?

It's Official: Section A is Better-Looking and Better at Softball than Section G


Nate Wunderli ‘22
Sports Editor


The best rivalry in sports is not the Yankees/Red Sox, not Lakers/Celtics, or Ohio State/Michigan. No, the best rivalry in sports is 3L Section A and 3L Section G. The rivalry began early, even before Section A and G ever met on the pothole-laden Copeley Field. As do many modern-day rivalries, it began on the Internet, in the form of pregame trash talk. After losing our first game to a paltry Section E team (sorry, Section E), Section A was struggling to find their identity on the field, which led to Section G spewing some questionable comments on the Interweb prior to Game 2. “Section A, they’re all talk but I heard they suck.” Ouch. It hurt the most, probably because of the truth behind it. At 0-1 on the season, we weren’t sure how our team would stack up, or even if we would have a team in a week. A couple more losses, and as the captain of the team I was looking at a potential mutiny.

            While saying we suck seemed a bit premature after one loss, the comment was accurate in that we were not afraid to throw shade at opponents before, during, and after games to spice things up. Maybe it was the Bud Light Lime talking. Game 2 against Section G would be our way of proving that maybe there is something behind the talk after all. Well, the game did not start out well. At all. Section G was beating us by double digits by the second inning, a drubbing that left our usually enthusiastic section silent and stunned on the sidelines. Maybe we did suck. Hell, we may never win a game. Section G, on the other hand, might as well have been on a different planet, partying and laughing and carrying on like they were at the front row of a One Direction concert.

Pictured: Section A after their first win vs. Section G. Photo Courtesy of Nate Wunderli '22.

Pictured: Section A after their first win vs. Section G. Photo Courtesy of Nate Wunderli '22.

            Down eleven runs going into our final at bat, the game was basically over. We scrapped together a couple hits before recording an out. Maybe we’d score some runs here and get some confidence going into the next game. A couple more hits followed by some walks. A home run cleared the bases. Hey, maybe we will give them a scare after all. A couple more walks. A palpable buzz started on the Section A sidelines, getting increasingly loud with each person that reached base. The zombie that was the Section A softball team was arising from its grave, but twelve runs still seemed like an insurmountable task. Eventually, it became clear we would have a chance. Down two with two runners on and two outs, I came up to the plate as the winning run. A poke out to right field, with some help from the right field tree, and the rest was history. We were so overjoyed at our comeback and first win, we didn’t even notice that someone on Section G was hit in the face as the ball was relayed home and had to go to the ER, adding to the emotional pain from their loss.

            Of course, it wouldn’t be a true rivalry if it ended after one game. Section G had their revenge, and in a big way as they knocked us out of the semifinals of the tournament by one run, orchestrating a comeback of their own. Which set up this latest drama, a game three exhibition grudge match to determine the true winner of the 3L softball crown. Despite the preseason nature of the game, it was clear from the start that this one meant a lot to both squads. First of all, the fact that we were even playing exhibition games in ninety-degree heat 3L year shows a certain level of dedication in itself. The game turned out to be a classic. Section A jumped out to the early lead, holding a 5-6 run advantage most of the contest. In the final inning, in true Section A v. G form, Section G came back to tie the game. Momentary confusion ensued. Do we end in a tie? It’s brutally hot, and it is only an exhibition game. Plus, Talullah Tepper’s ’22 dog looked like he was about to pass out on the sidelines. The vocal majority said to play extra innings, and the rest, probably not wanting to look weak in front of our archrivals, obliged. Section A proceeded to score five runs, taking the game, and the pride, by a score of 17-14.

Pictured: Section A and G captains. Photo Courtesy of Nate Wunderli '22.

Pictured: Section A and G captains. Photo Courtesy of Nate Wunderli '22.

            Kelli Finnegan, Section G’s captain, in a true show of sportsmanship, had this to say after the game: “I’m glad we got to kick off the season with a long-running rivalry game! Maybe if Section A’s music was better, we could’ve rounded the bases faster.” Until next time indeed, Section G. As Alex Albert ’22 said, “this game is going to make me happy for a long time.”

---

nw7cz@virginia.edu

Rush and OGI: The Worst of Times and the Worst of Times


Sai Kulkarni ‘23
Culture Editor

Like many of my friends, about a week ago, my TikTok feed was inundated with videos of (and parodying) University of Alabama’s sorority rush process. At the time, I was still in the dumps, also known as dealing with the residues of OGI. While living through one of the most stressful times in law school, I was struck by the remarkable similarities between the rush process for frats/srats and OGI. Perhaps it was interview-induced delirium (I used that excuse a lot in the last month), but I decided to share those thoughts with my adoring fans: you. So I present to you a step-by-step comparison of two processes that feel earth shattering but are not as terrible as participants view them to be.

 

Pre-Process

Older students will tell you about their Greek organizations. You’ll be told to do some quick research about the groups you may want to join. But no matter what, you won’t actually know what the brotherhood or sisterhood is like until you actually start the process. Unless, of course, you are a “legacy” and have a firm idea of what it’s like already and where you HAVE to go. Sound familiar? Our glorious leaders in job applications (OPP) recommend that we learn about firms, network, and just get out there and figure out what we like. But as every interviewer says, you can’t know what it’s really like until you get into the process. The websites look the same and it’s hard to parse the specialties available. Unless, of course, your parents are/were firm lawyers, then you already know a bit about the field. But we first gen attorneys are sometimes lost in the sauce. We can’t be lost for too long before the next step arrives.

 

Open Recruitment

The next step is the common experience for everyone: open rush. It’s easy to get invited to a house at this step. You party hard and see if they like you. “Just be yourself” is the common advice given. It’s as much about you feeling the vibe of the group as it is about them vibing with you. This element of rush tracks directly into the actual max-21 interview OGI process. If you use all your bids, and you want it, you can get a lot of screeners. Some will be based on people liking you (pre-selects) and some assigned at random (lottery). You have brief conversations with interviewers and try to get as much of yourself out there as possible. After you feel like you’ve found some good fits, it’s time for some heartbreak. There’s a lot of waiting unless they give you a quick timeline (which is rare). But then comes the next stage.

 

Formal Recruitment

This process is really identical for both rush and OGI, but dressed up differently. Both firms and Greek orgs are interviewing you. It feels intense. It feels isolating. And oftentimes, it feels like you have to keep your progress at this stage a secret (seriously, my best friend from college was so hush-hush about it, he went to his room immediately after coming home rather than joining a round of Mario Kart. Smh Nate). But at the same time, it’s a time when you feel like your effort can make or break you. The truth is, however, there’s Third Year recruiting for both processes. And with OGI specifically, outside applications are amazing and can be the success makers (I speak from personal experience here). At both points in life, you are smart, capable, and great students in a stressful process. And as your reward, at some point either immediately in the weeks after OGI or after a while, you get rewarded with the final, shortest stage.

 

Invitations

Most people only get one invite from Rush and are very happy with that opportunity. Getting a single offer from OGI is, similarly, enough to change everything. For those lucky enough to get multiple, they have the opportunity to make a more informed choice. But overall, the process is done here. No matter how long your process stretches, you are done. You will be successful. And you will have fun celebrating your success.

 

Final Thoughts

From what I’ve observed, the two processes are remarkably similar. They even have similar people on the outside that reap the benefits but get to make jokes as people who didn’t suffer through it (“friends of the frat” vs. PI students, both getting free alcohol). Regardless, I stand by what I said earlier. Even if your process isn’t done, that’s the fault of the firms, not you. All of you are incredibly capable, awesome students who will do fantastic out there and get what you deserve. But really, what do I know? I’m just a “friend of the frat” who decided to write about an organization I never joined.

---

omk6cg@virginia.edu

Professors, Legal: We Want to Hear from You!

Jacob Smith ‘23
Professor Liaison Editor

Long-time reader of the Law Weekly? New to North Grounds and joining us for the first time? Either way, thank you for reading us! I want to remind you that the Law Weekly staff is always very glad to receive letters to the editor. Letters need not be in response to one of our articles.[1] Rather, letters on any topic of interest to the Law School community may be sent to editor@lawweekly.org.

This invitation goes out to all members of our readership, even brand-new 1Ls embarking on their legal careers. As we wrote in our inaugural 1948 issue, “This school is here primarily to encourage the development and dissemination of ideas. Let not one of our readers ever discard the notion to publicize [their] thoughts with the alibi that no one would be interested in receiving them!” We really do want to hear from you. 

But the main reason I am writing today is to assure our legal professional readers, and especially our amazing Law School professors, that we are especially eager to hear from them. Professors can and do write letters to the editor, but we also have a space specifically set aside for their learned insights—our Dicta column.

Dicta began in our inaugural 1948 issue with the ambitious goal of considering “basic aims of the law and [the] role of [law] schools.” Dean F.D.G. Ribble wrote about the role of the law school in the first Dicta column. The rest of that year’s column focused on criminal justice. Dicta ran on the front page every single week that year, featuring the opinions of judges, attorneys, professors from multiple law schools, and at one point even the Head of Scotland Yard. Where necessary, the Law Weekly published distillations of pertinent law review articles. The final column of that year was written by (or taken from a writing by) Supreme Court Justice Felix Frankfurter. 

Since then, Dicta has had its ups and downs. The column probably reached its peak when it was cited by the Supreme Court in 1977. However, as the Law Weekly gradually became less stuffy and more entertaining, Dicta became less of a focus. At some point Dicta stopped (for the most part) covering one topic at a time and turned into a general forum for thoughts on any legal topic. In 1987 and 1988 the since-discontinued Vanguard column took shots at its popularity, claiming that “Dicta is read about as often as the Boston Red Sox win the World Series.” The 1990s saw efforts to “revive” Dicta.  The Law Weekly even tried to get students involved, hosting a student essay competition in 1995 and urging 3Ls to submit excerpts from unpublished journal articles in 1996. But Dicta finally reached its nadir in the 2005-2006 academic year when Volume 58 of the Law Weekly failed to publish any Dicta at all. Dicta was resurrected in 2008, flickered out again from 2011 to 2014, was briefly restored in the 2015-2016 academic year, dropped out again in 2016-2017, featured one column in 2017-2018, and then was silent until last year, when Leah Deskins ’21 managed to get two columns published.

Now, today, as the editor who has received the Dicta mantle, I am determined to prevent this from becoming another Dicta-less year. Professors and alumni, I want to hear from you! At this point, Dicta has evolved to more generally feature recent developments in your scholarship, as well as your views about current events in the law. It's basically an outlet to share your research or thoughts with the legal community. Writing a Dicta column is a great way to explore a new idea in a less formal medium, get the word out about recent scholarship, or just communicate something that's on your mind. 

Writing a column is ridiculously easy, too: we publish online and in print every week during the semester, ending a few weeks before finals. No need to get pencilled in for a particular week, just send us 800 words whenever you are ready and we will fit it in. You don’t even have to cite your sources. Past Dicta columns have discussed a wide variety of topics: lessons from the life of the late legal philosopher John Garnder, the Takings clause, Obergefell v. Hodge, and D.C. voting rights. UVA professors—I WILL read your law review articles and hunt you down if I have to, but please do give it a shot this year. And non-UVA lawyers, professors, judges, justices, and Heads of Scotland Yard—this invitation is for you too! Regardless of your affiliation, we thank you for your readership and would love to hear your insights.

 ---

js3hp@virginia.edu


[1] Such letters are certainly welcome (we like knowing people actually read what we publish).

The Withdrawal from Afghanistan


Mason Pazhwak ‘23
Events Editor

Like many other Americans, I have been glued to every available form of media over the last ten days trying to make sense of the catastrophic events that have so radically altered Afghanistan in so short a period. My thoughts about whether the overall policy of withdrawal from the country was in the best interests of the U.S. quickly became a sideshow to a more immediate question: how was such a chaotic, horrendous exit allowed to occur? How, after twenty years of continuous operations and one of the largest foreign policy investments of the twenty-first century, was the U.S. military backed into a civilian international airport adjacent to Taliban-occupied Kabul trying to regain control of the tarmac from thousands of terrified, desperate civilians? In a war that has been defined by unclear objectives, shifting goalposts, untold waste, and gross miscalculations, it is easy to be cynical and say that it was inevitable that the conclusion of the U.S.’s involvement would be a mess. Yet, it was the one thing about the mission that the U.S. still had very much within its control, even if it meant prolonging our presence just a bit longer.

While such a choice would have imposed its own costs, a dignified exit was the last opportunity to pay tribute to the enormous efforts of the Soldiers, diplomats, and civilians from across our country, Afghanistan, and many of our allied nations who gave everything to honorably carrying out the work that was asked of them. Over the course of my life, starting from the 9/11 attacks when I was seven years old to my last job before starting law school at age 26, I had various opportunities to observe and later contribute to the U.S. and international mission in a civilian capacity, and I intimately understand the dedication brought and sacrifices made by so many of these individuals over so many years. While there remain conflicting accounts about the mission they were asked to carry out, and various ways to characterize what has been gained by their toils, it should be acknowledged that the work they did made the tragic desperation of the current moment far from inevitable, and our decision-makers need to take a long, hard look at why it was allowed to happen this way.

My observation of events over the last few days has also been strongly informed by my Afghan heritage. I know many Afghans who wholeheartedly embraced the U.S. and international mission, believing in the vision of a democratic Afghanistan where rights would be protected, and free expression could be exercised. They put themselves out there in the public sphere based on that belief, and now face the fear and uncertainty of watching that vision collapse. Even worse, they were given no opportunity to plan their response to the enormous shift and its consequences. While I have not yet heard of evidence of mass reprisals, they have good reason to fear for their futures, or at least to believe that they will face a new reality where many of the freedoms that they enjoyed for a generation will be rolled back. It is easy to forget, sitting in the U.S. and talking about matters of policy, that our country’s choices have very real implications for the lives of people. While the rapid Taliban takeover may prevent some of the worst consequences of our withdrawal —  such as protracted, bloody civil conflict, mass displacement, and destruction of infrastructure — their shocking sweep, unmoderated by political compromise, means an almost certain return to silence for millions of women and deep anxiety by those who dared to believe in a liberal order. Not much can be done about this now, besides helping those put most at risk by the Taliban’s return to resettle in new parts of the world. However, Afghanistan must be a lesson to those who have the hubris to attempt massive undertakings like reengineering a country, and who do not have to live with, or even have an inkling of, the everyday consequences of those decisions.

Like many others in the diaspora community, I remain committed to seeing Afghanistan thrive, and hope one day it can be a country that is not only talked about in terms of its problems. It is a beautiful land, with a vibrant, ancient culture, friendly, hospitable people, and so much to contribute to humanity. The takeover by the Taliban will not take away those attributes, but it will mean that generations of Afghans will not be able to count on a government that will protect fundamental human rights. This is a very unfortunate reversal, and even if the now deposed government was far from ideal, it at least was premised on values that promoted self-governance and equality for all. If there is any silver lining to the last twenty years of effort, it will be that Afghans will not accept an end to the progress that was made, and even as they transition to a new system there will be those who remain steadfast in demanding a country where all can live with dignity and reach their full potential as human beings.

---

mwp8kk@virginia.edu

I Know What You Did This Summer


We polled various law students to describe their Big Law, Public Service, and RA Summer experiences!

Illinois Prison Project

Kathryn Querner ‘22
Features Editor

This past summer, I interned at the Illinois Prison Project (IPP) based in Chicago, Illinois. IPP dedicates itself to combating racism, excessive sentences, and other forms of human degradation present in our criminal justice system.

I have always been passionate about fighting to counter mass incarceration and increasing the availability of justice, but much of my work prior to this summer focused on the innocence movement. While innocence project work tends to emphasize the importance of exonerating people who have been wrongfully convicted, IPP takes the stance that every person in our justice system deserves compassion, respect, and empathy regardless of innocence or guilt. In other words, a person’s worth is inherent and no person should be treated as less than human because of his or her actions.

This summer, I had the opportunity to pursue executive clemency for one elderly man incarcerated under Illinois’ three-strikes policy and three elderly veterans. Executive clemency in this case refers to the ability of the governor of Illinois to pardon or commute a sentence—for my part, I worked on commutation petitions to achieve clemency. I spoke with each of my clients nearly weekly on the phone, developing connections with them and learning their life stories to try to put them to paper. Their stories unfailingly involved trauma and extreme challenges—including domestic abuse, racism, learning disabilities, gang involvement, and drug and alcohol abuse. Yet, even despite their hardships and the trauma of being incarcerated for years on end, these men never gave up hope and committed themselves to turning their lives around. My clients demonstrated to me first-hand that no person is beyond redemption.

Learn more about the Illinois Prison Project’s work at www.illinoisprisonproject.org, and feel free to reach out to me by email (kmq8vf@virginia.edu) if you are interested in learning more about a summer internship with IPP!

A 1L Summer Internship in Alaska

 

Mason Pazhwak ‘23
Events Editor

 

            Throughout OGI screeners and callback interviews over the last two weeks I consistently got some form of the question: “I saw on your resume you were working in Alaska this summer, what brought you there?” I had several easy answers to that line of questioning that I could rattle off: that Alaska has always held a mythic place in my imagination with nicknames like “The Last Frontier” or “Land of the Midnight Sun;” that I loved the outdoors and wanted to see national parks like Kenai Fjords or Denali, go hiking, fish salmon runs, and see bears; or that I was looking to experience a different type of legal environment and briefly break from the inexorable draw of a career in the major markets of the Lower 48.[1]  These were some of the ideas I had that led me to apply to, interview with, and accept an offer to intern with the Alaska Department of Law.

            Reflecting on the experience, I can only sum it up by saying that it was one of those times in life where reality exceeded even the highest expectations. Sometimes it would be the possibilities of a day, like when I would find myself standing in a Walmart parking lot after work at 5:30PM, see the peaks of the enormous Chugach Mountains looming in the distance and think “Hey, I might go hike one of those right now.” Even if I was back by 11:00PM I would have sunlight to spare. Or it would be moments of intense, unexpected excitement, like when I first got to drive down the Seward Highway and found myself surrounded by glaciated peaks that seemed to rise abruptly from the water into the sky, or when I saw a moose impassively assessing me not far off a bike trail in the middle of Anchorage. It was also the legal experiences I had. There are not many places where interns get to spend a week getting tutored by battle-hardened trial and appellate attorneys before appearing in court to do a mock trial before a federal judge. Mainly though, it was the people I met. From a set of adventurous interns to explore with, to the enormously generous Alaskan lawyers who, for example, gave me a free car to use for ten weeks[2] while training me to handle all types of civil and criminal issues, to the regular Alaskan, who would always be up for a friendly conversation, the people I met will always stay with me. So, if you are a 1L and somehow reading this instead of your first cases, drop everything and apply. If you are a 2L, 3L or beyond I’d say check out Alaska at some point. I can guarantee you will come back with some stories to tell.

Research Assistant

Kelli Finnegan ‘22
Guest Writer 

 

This summer, I had the opportunity to work full-time at a law firm and part-time continuing work on a project as a research assistant. The research project is particularly data-heavy, and we have been collecting information for more than a year.

Professor Sarah Shalf ’01 and Professor Kirsten Widner teamed up to research the factors that contribute to whether proposed gun control legislation gets passed in each state. They are primarily focused on red flag laws and domestic violence protection orders, both of which can grant law enforcement officials the authority to remove guns from a person’s home or possession. Data collection for their research requires surveying articles that discuss state-level gun violence legislation from 1996-2019. To do this, we picked one major newspaper from each state and have been coding the relevant articles from each source in Airtable. The coding includes general framing of the proposed legislation, names of parties that support and oppose the legislation, and arguments presented.

I joined the team after I saw a Symplicity posting for the position last September, which was after Maggie Woodward ’22 laid out much of the groundwork for the research process—thank you Maggie! Since then, I have reviewed tens of thousands of articles and coded the necessary information from hundreds of them. I have learned so much about state legislatures, gun violence legislation, and gun-related interest groups in the US, and I am glad to now have some useful background in this area.

As the summer wraps up, I am able to spend more of my time coding the remaining states. We should finish our survey early in the new semester so the professors can begin their analysis of the data. I am grateful for the team’s flexibility with me as I juggled two jobs this summer, and I am eager to see the project through this fall.

Split Big Law Summer

 

Jack Tucker ‘22
Guest Writer

 

This summer I split my summer between two law firms headquartered in Birmingham, Alabama, working six weeks at each firm. This was my second summer with both of these firms since I spent the summer after my 1L year with them too. Splitting my summer between two firms in a “smaller” market was unique and exciting because of the opportunities I had to become intimately involved in cases while having a ton of fun with the firms outside of the office.

At my first firm, Bradley Arant Boult Cummings LLP, a Big Law firm, I went to a five-day bench trial in federal court. The case, which I had worked on during my first summer, was a breach of contract dispute. At trial, I assisted the attorneys by researching legal issues that arose and providing them with responses to give to the court. Following the close of the evidence, the court allowed a few weeks for post-trial briefing before closing arguments. In that period, I drafted sections of the post-trial brief and helped the attorneys prepare for closing arguments.

At my second firm, Lightfoot, Franklin & White, LLC, a litigation boutique, I did legal research on issues ranging from federal regulation of hazardous substances to witness competency under state law. Many of my projects at this firm were time-sensitive as they were needed for pre-trial motions for trials that were imminent. I also assisted a partner in a scholarly pursuit researching the successes and limitations of climate litigation.

I would highly recommend 1Ls consider “smaller” market firms for three reasons. First, you have opportunities to get involved right away like going to trial as a summer associate. Second, you can split your summer and work at two different firms which gives you an excellent feel for what type of firm environment you are most likely to thrive professionally. And third, these firms are so much fun that you might find yourself exploring every brewery in town with attorneys and learning to wake surf off the back of a partner’s boat.

---

kmq8vf@virginia.edu
mwp8kk@virginia.edu
kmf6ba@virginia.edu
jwt8rm@virginia.edu


 

[1] I think after two and a half months there I have become Alaskan enough to call it this, though some might dissent.

[2] The rental car shortage was very real.

How to Thrive as a 1L


Jonathan Peterson ‘23
Satire Editor & Photographer

 

Dear Class of 2024,

At the wise old age of twenty-three, with one COVID-filled year under my belt, I feel fully prepared to give you the life and legal advice[1] you need. And, luckily for you, I’ve been given the platform to do this, for better or worse. In what is now an enduring tradition, the Law Weekly will be providing you with the tips you need to survive this daunting transition into high school.[2] So please sit back, put on your blue light glasses, and get ready to read what will be entirely objective and authoritative advice on the journey ahead.

 

1.    Come in with a plan.

Your classmates already know what it is they’ll be doing long term, and so should you. When firms ask what practice area you’re interested in, tell them toxic torts, or better yet, admiralty law. Public service folks, this applies to you as well. First semester 1L is the time to specialize, and it’s better to set that life plan in stone, fast, than worry about tomorrow.

Furthermore, you should literally come in with a plan. Class will be a bloodbath. Use the student directory to identify prime targets for sabotage based on their LinkedIn, Instagram, Facebook, or whatever you can find, really. This is essential to success at UVA, and those who prepare ahead and bank their time tend to do better in the long run.[3]

 

2.    Prove your worth at every possible moment.

Professors will appreciate it and peers will envy it; raise your hand. This is the path to both interpersonal and academic success that so many chill, friendly, lovable people seem to miss—this school is all about posturing. You should make it known, loudly and often, just how much work you’ve been doing so that you can compare productivity as a measure of success. Rambling hypotheticals which reveal the inner workings of your mind are a surefire way to earn that Research Assistant position over the summer.[4] In short, work it, baby.

 

3.    Legal Research and Writing should take up the majority of your time.

As one of the most important skills for your future, this should be one of your top priorities.[5] If you’re not spending at least 50% of your free time preparing for these assignments, you’ve missed the point.

 

4.   For the third year in a row, using your middle initial when signing is a must.

In accord with former satire editor, Drew Calamaro (’21), I would like to reiterate his sage advice. “Using your middle initial tells people you are smart, you are capable, and that you absolutely do not have an inflated ego.” Despite the political and social upheavals that have come since I began law school so long ago, this advice remains immutably correct, unchanging like the craters of the moon. Use your middle initial—you’re going to be a juris doctor.

 

5.    Make use of the class recordings.

One small silver lining from the pandemic has been the vast technological advances made in educational spaces. These advancements are proof of the resiliency, ingenuity, and commitment of the UVA Law community. One of the most helpful changes came in the form of class recordings. These ensured that students didn’t feel pressured to choose between coming to class while possibly sick or just missing class altogether.

These recordings are clearly here to stay. It makes no sense to invest the necessary overhead into employing measures which purely add to the educational value of our program, only to tear them away from students. Luckily, this logic is apparent to all. So, be prepared to make heavy use of this resource! Truly, class recordings not only aided many students in studying for exams, but also helped to keep the community safe during frightening times. After a success like this, it’s clear that class recordings are here to stay.

 

6.   Dating within the law school is a healthy and fun idea. 

This one’s coming to you from the Law Weekly as a collective: be they KJD or PA, gunner or gooner, shoot your shot. It’s a good idea that needs no further reflection.

 

7.    Parking tickets are more of a suggestion than a mandate.

It wouldn’t be a full experience at North Grounds if you made it out without at least one parking ticket. Like Bodo’s, this is a Charlottesville bucket list experience. And, the best part is, you don’t have to pay them! They’re just a fun little joke by the school to help students feel connected to the rest of the community, those not paying $60,000+ a year to make use of the facilities.[6]

 

8.   If you get behind on readings, don’t worry.

While it’s true that your law school career is probably over, there’s other employment for you out there. And you’d probably be able to handle the workload at the business school.

 

9.   Office hours are for chumps.

The only people who go to office hours are those who need help—not you, you monolith of a worker, you. It’s true that no man is an island, but in the great words of Eowyn, “I am no man[, I’m a law student.]” So buckle down, find yourself a Wilson of your own, and get ready to be riding solo. Collegiality is a lie, natural selection is the truth, and tearing pages out of library textbooks is the path to success. In short: don’t go to office hours. Your brilliant questions will only aid those lower on the totem pole than you.

 

10.    Focus on softball.

If you only take one thing from these tips, know that softball is a glorious time for budding friendships, physical activity, and ruthlessly hitting homeruns over the least-experienced player plopped in right field. As has been the trend, you should always be asserting your dominance, and this means both off and on the diamond. Break the curve and break their spirit.

---

jtp4bw@virginia.edu


[1] This is not legal advice and should not be taken as such.

[2] Referencing class size and not the workload. It’s really not high school.

[3] You can decide what “better” really means to you.

[4] This is a necessary step in your 14-step path to your end goal.

[5] This is sincere advice—research and writing are important skills.

[6] Otherwise, free of charge!