Bones Day, or Why I Trust a Prophetic 13-year-old Pug

Sai Kulkarni ‘23
Culture Editor


My first ever front-page appearance in this esteemed newspaper came from an article about how great holiday-based trends on TikTok were. It also included a pitch to all of you to join the social media app at a time when we all needed community the most. I am happy to say that anecdotal information has taught me that many people, because I recommended it, of course, have joined the app in the past year.[1] So I come to you today, my dear readers, to inform you of the latest TikTok phenomena: the great prophet, Noodle the Pug.

For those of you who don’t know how TikTok’s algorithm works, we need to briefly mention that. As you like and share content, it shows you more. Simple enough, right? Every platform does that. But this app also studies how long you view a video, whether you pause and come back, and even your real-life conversations.[2] So as more people see something and simply find it interesting (not even like it!) it starts getting recommended to more people. Hence, the burst of viral (non-music) TikTok trends in the last year.

With that background out of the way, we can focus on the star of the hour: Noodle. If you don’t know, Noodle is a thirteen-year-old pug owned by a user with the handle @jongraz on the app. While the pug is cute by himself, he has gone viral for something Mr. Graz has been doing every morning. Noodle, a thirteen-year-old dog, is understandably tired all the time. Sometimes he just doesn’t feel like sitting up. But every morning, Mr. Graz faithfully picks Noodle up from his dog bed and gently places him back down. On days when Noodle stands on his own instead of flopping back down, it’s a bones day: Noodle has woken up with bones and can walk around and face the day. On days when Noodle instead flops back down, it’s a no bones day. He just doesn’t have the energy to face the world and needs to be taken care of. This simple act has evolved into a multi-million viewer daily phenomenon.

Helped along by Mr. Graz himself, users of the app, viewers of network television, and even readers of famous magazines have begun to create lore about these two types of days.[3] If Noodle has bones, then he has energy to get things done, and so should you. If Noodle has a no bones day, then you should also take care of yourself the way he needs care. This simple daily dichotomy has captured the hearts and minds of millions (including myself) to the point where it has led to its own fan-created media in the form of songs about the prophet and mentions of him in podcasts. All of us fans and true believers check our feeds every morning to know whether we should get work done or simply stay in and take care of ourselves. As a note, I am writing this during a no bones day, so I am half tempted to stop writing here, go get a peppermint mocha, and curl up in my blankets. But alas, my vaunted role as Cultural Commentator on The Law Weekly demands that I discuss the implications of this great prophet with you.[4]

You may be asking yourself why I, and so many others, take direction from a random internet pug. To that, I ask you, why do you take direction from things like Co-Star,[5] crystals, and a groundhog, of all things? Because it’s something to rely on. Something consistent, that occupies a few minutes of your day, that is really an active demonstration of confirmation bias. So why hate on my daily prophet of choice? In today’s culture that is obsessed with hating popular things simply because of their popularity, I say we let people have the peace they want in this reliance. At the end of the day, it doesn’t actually affect my behavior. I take care of myself and work hard in waves throughout the day as needed.[6] But for just a few moments a day, I can stop and look at a TikTok and know that millions of other people are tuning in, just as fervently as I am, checking to see how their day will go.

[1] I don’t know if it was because of me but I am claiming credit anyways: the Corporate America way.

[2] This last one hasn’t been 100% proven but if it isn’t true, I’ll be very surprised.

[3] Noodle has appeared on The Today Show and gotten “cancelled” by Rolling Stone.

[4] As a point of order, my title is actually “Culture Editor” but I’m choosing to rename it because I can.

[5] I don’t use this app and if Sarah Walsh ’23 tells you I do, she is lying.

[6] As you all should. Take breaks you nerds.

Perspective on the First Semester of Law School from an "Old" 1L

Nikolai Morse ‘24
Staff Editor

When I was considering applying to law school, my age was one of the things I weighed heavily. Assuming I got in, I would be thirty-one when I graduated, and turning thirty-two shortly after taking the bar and beginning work. I worried that this might be too old to begin a new career, but like many people, I also felt certain it was a career that I would regret not pursuing. While I’m not really that old by any objective standard (contrary to what my friends in Section A will tell you),[1] I do think being a few years older can lend a different perspective than the average law student[2] might have. As our semester begins to wind down and people tell me more and more that I “really need to start outlining” and “maybe you should go to office hours, even just once”, this “old” 1L wants to offer some observations from his first semester in law school.

First, we go to school in an incredible place. And believe me, I was prepared to dislike it—having lived in Chicago, New York, and Northern California, I was frankly not thrilled at the idea of living in a college town for three years. But any irrational[3] fears I had have quickly been quieted. All of the things people usually say about Charlottesville—beautiful landscapes, breweries and wineries, hiking, restaurants[4]—are of course true. But what’s truly remarkable about Charlottesville is how balanced it is. We have all of these things, but in a relatively small town. We are surrounded by beautiful rolling hills and farmland but have a terrifically walkable downtown. There is a gigantic incredible university, but there are a variety of neighborhoods with their own non-college personalities. This all combines to make Charlottesville an unbelievably “liveable” place in general, and particularly so for three years of law school. For all of you young(er) law students living in Pav, Arlington, and the general law school-Barracks strip mall bubble, I strongly encourage you to explore the rest of the town. Take it from a geezer who has lived in a couple of large cities—we are truly lucky to be here.

Pictured: This reporter enjoying 1L Contracts with Section A. Photo courtesy of Google.

Second, we are swimming in a sea of incredible opportunities. I could not imagine an environment where in one day you could go from discussing challenging legal concepts in class, to hearing a judge speak during lunch, to going back to class and learning that railroads are basically torts in infrastructure form, and then working with local attorneys to help community members to file refugee applications for their family members in Afghanistan. Now to be clear, I have never done any of this, so it technically is imaginary. BUT, I have seen students doing these things, heard them describe all that they’ve learned, and am impressed at how many weeks they have lived on free food. The daily reality of attending a world-class law school is that you are bombarded with opportunities that you rarely get the chance to access in the working world. I cannot emphasize strongly enough how valuable not only our class time is, but also the plethora of lectures, pro bono opportunities, and extracurricular activities. It was one of the things I was most excited to experience coming back to school after working for six years, and I have been awed by the array of avenues for education, self-improvement, and service which we are surrounded by.

Third, and most importantly, the people here are incredible. I’ll be honest – everyone is a bit younger than I had hoped when I came to law school. I assumed that there would not be quite so many K-JDs. I was wrong. I assumed I would not be surrounded by so many people ironically wearing 90’s clothes and calling them “retro” or asking “if skinny jeans were back.”[5] I was wrong. I assumed that most 2Ls and 3Ls would not regularly be four years younger than me. I was wrong. But most importantly, I did not know how incredibly kind and insightful all these youths would be. I am surrounded each day by peers who are here to learn, willingly and seriously engage with the material, and strive to improve themselves. This kind of earnestness and interest in something intellectual is something I haven’t been around in years. The reality is that most people in the working world generally don’t have the time, interest, or energy to sit around and discuss issues of policy or justice in deep and meaningful ways. Having worked for even just six years has helped me to appreciate just how valuable and rare this is. And we are lucky enough to be surrounded by these kinds of people every day.

All of this goes to underscore this elderly 1Ls my main takeaway from the first semester of law school: I am deeply grateful and appreciative of being in law school at this point in my life, and specifically, grateful to attend law school here. And every day I am reminded of that.

[1] Shout out Section A, specifically shout out the Gen-Z’s who keep trying to convince me that TikTok is a thing.

[2] Apparently, the average age is 24. Given all the youths in my section, that must mean every other section is filled with folks catching the early bird special at Denny’s. https://www.law.virginia.edu/admissions/class-2024-profile

[3] Genuinely was worried this might be my life: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Neighbors_(2014_American_film)

[4] Special shout-out to the Alley Light where my fiancé works part-time and I mooch free drinks full-time.

[5] Again, looking at you Section A Gen-Z’s. Skinny jeans never went anywhere.

Wearing Your Mask Below Your Nose = Manspreading

Sai Kulkarni ‘23
Culture Editor


It seems like any other day in class during the 2021 Fall Semester. Everyone is exhausted from the usual pressures of law school and last night’s bad decisions. Textbooks are opened to a random page by those who have them, others are already pounding on their Macs, doing something that is definitely not texting their friends in the same classroom. Some people are wearing unique masks, others are wearing the simple blue medical masks (lacking any creativity). You take all this in, when, to your shock, you notice that the guy at the end of your row is doing something that can be barely called wearing his mask. It hangs loosely over his mouth and doesn’t even bother covering his nose. You stare with your mouth agape, although, since you are a good member of society, no one can see that through your properly donned mask. You can’t believe that, in a class when you should be worried about whether you remember what breach of contract is and if it is relevant, you are instead worried about this offender. At the end of the day, his personal choice to be lazy and not move that mask two inches up is affecting those around him.

What does that sound like to you? For me, and two concerned members of our esteemed Class of ’22, it brings up similarities to another such nuisance: manspreading.[1] Stay with me, folks. Think back to your consulting jobs, time on Wall Street, or unpaid internships in D.C. that you mention every time there’s a lull in the conversation. In those pre-COVID times, I am sure most of us had to take public transportation. Whether it was buses, the metro, or other rail service, you undoubtedly had to struggle to find a seat at times. Pushing through tightly packed crowds to find some respite from your long walk to the station so you could slow your heart just a bit before you get to your stressful job. Only to find that there’s a man[2] deciding to lounge on the seats and taking up more real estate than he has paid for with his Metro/Subway pass.

This kind of behavior is common and a nuisance to the general public. There is limited space already on these transports even though they are essential to the general public. While it may provide more comfort for the person in question, it simply puts a barrier on everyone else who is similarly trying to catch a break. Everyone is going through it on the morning commute, and this block on the one comfort you can count on is ridiculous. Now, mask-wearing is not similar in that it gives us all a tangible, immediate benefit. Rather, it protects us from potential future pain and accidentally harming of your family members.[3] The accurate comparison remains though, because, like the morning commute, wearing a mask indoors is something that everyone in the Law School has to do. We are all equally uncomfortable; so someone not taking part in that is a profound betrayal of the collective attitude we all have as law students. Similar to how we commiserate over o*****g season, we should all have to go through the same degree of discomfort.

That one student not wearing his mask appropriately may give himself some brief comfort in the moment, but it hurts those around him, both in breaking solidarity and (more importantly) in putting other people at risk. Like that manspreader in the metro, this mask-misuser is causing slight harm to those around him and generally being a nuisance. So, this is both an informative piece, telling you about this latest collective harm[4] and to a call out to those mask-misusers amongst us to get it together. Yes, people are talking about you behind your back for this. Do better, or the public shaming will get worse.

So how do you do your part in fighting this problem? Well, it’s simple. If you are able to get vaccinated, do so. Get the booster if you can, a lot of places are offering it to everyone. Tell your more conservative family members that the vaccine would actually prevent the government from tracking them. At the end of the day, dear reader, you and I both know that despite this public shaming in the form of this article, those mask-misusers won’t stop. Their comfort is more important to them than the risk they are causing to others. So I end this, my last article of the semester, with a plea for all of us to do our part and fight both the pandemic and the nuisances it has caused.

---

omk6cg@virginia.edu

[1] Shoutout to Maggie and Elizabeth for this excellent article idea.

[2] Yes, it’s always a man. Don’t fight me on this incels.

[3] I am not an anti-masker and I am being very clear about that here.

[4] There’s got to be a torts case here, right? Please help me, Professor White.

6 Thoughts on Homeownership

Michael Berdan ‘22
Opinions Editor


My wife and I bought a home in Hanover, just north of Richmond, a few weeks ago,[1] and here are a few assorted thoughts on the experience.


1. Real estate agents have conflicting incentives with their clients at a number of places in the transaction. Our agent was… fine, but if I had not been as assertive and aware, she would have cost me tens of thousands of additional dollars. Her commission structure incentivizes her to get me to offer the highest amount possible, to cause the least amount of friction possible during the time the sale is pending, and to close the sale as quickly as possible. If  you can’t tell from my columns in this paper, that is not quite how I roll, and it was to our massive advantage in the process. Next time we will not be using an agent.


2. Homeowners can’t call the landlord. When the sewage drain pipe backed up and started pushing supremely stenchified liquid into the basement, I had to solve it, or pay to have it solved. When the well pressure tank stopped working, I had to solve it, or pay to have it solved. When a contractor notified me there was a snake in our basement, I had to order a pair of snake tongs and go on the hunt.


3. Homeowners also don’t have to call the landlord. When my wife decided at 11 p.m. that she did not want the upper cabinets in the kitchen, she removed them. When we decided the rotting red oak tree in the front yard was due to come down, we had it cut down, and we are having the wood milled to make our dining room table. We needed no one’s permission.


4. Homeownership is full of problem-solving opportunities. Our water comes from a well, into a pressure tank, then into a filtration system, then to the faucets. The well is literally just a pipe that goes 250-300 feet underground and sucks water up from the aquifer. Consequently, the water can get contaminated by the earth surrounding the water. Our water was tested safe and clean when we closed, but a little while after closing, it started to stink like rotten eggs. By tracing the pipes in my basement, I found out that the kitchen sink was (who knows why) plumbed to receive unfiltered water directly from the pressure tank. I can reroute the pipes myself to serve it filtered water, and we have no need to replace our filtration system, saving us about $5,000.


5. Buying a house in the country, when you have lived in the suburbs your whole life, is an experience. Who knew that basements just… leak water, and that’s okay? Who knew that hunters just come shoot deer on the adjacent property, or that they release GPS-tracked dogs that may chase their quarry for five or ten miles or more, and that interfering with one is a felony? Who knew that your Trump-voting neighbors would be so warm and welcoming, bringing cookies and home-harvested honey, and doing free electrical work to help out in a pinch? Also, I was surprised that once I set up the electric bill in our name, I didn’t have any more calls to make. There’s no gas service, no trash service, no sewer service, and no water service. We even have a wood-burning furnace for heat, and will likely get a standby generator for times when we are entirely off-grid.

6. The feeling I got when I walked into a home that truly belongs to us for as long as we want it to, was a deeply personal, intimate feeling of security and satisfaction that I think all homeowners should want for others. However, all over the country, landlords, investors, and corporations buy up property, creating an artificial scarcity and driving up prices, pulling homeownership out of the reach of more and more people. Remnants of redlining and generational wealth disparity continue to segregate homeownership along racial and other lines. Even simple conventional wisdom often serves to make homeownership seem less attainable than it may in fact be.[2] As I’ve stepped into homeownership, it’s brought me greater commitment to support efforts and policies to make it more accessible to all.

---

mwb4pk@virginia.edu

[1] Shout-out to Andrea Leeds-Armstrong, Director of UVA’s Office of Virginia Status, who insisted for months that I was lying when I told her I intended to remain in Virginia beyond graduation.

[2] Average down payment is only 6%, not the 20% often taken as a “rule of thumb”.

Halloween, Parties, and the End of the Season

Sai Kulkarni ‘23
Culture Editor



Halloween weekend is always a huge time for parties, fun, and socially acceptable sugar rushes. This past weekend was a true return to form, after a year when we all lost the opportunity to enjoy such basic things. As we wind down for the semester here at the Law Weekly, I wanted to just take the time to talk about this latest series of events and appreciate the good times before the dark days ahead of us known as o**l****g season begin.

As most of my ideas do, this one came to me randomly in the 30 seconds before I set foot in the Law Weekly office this past week. Since achieving 2L status, I have noticed that so much of my time is spent thinking about, planning, and attending parties. Seems like I’m almost spending an entire class’ worth of energy on it.[1] But nothing compares to the energy required in setting up for and hosting parties. As incredibly stressed-out law students, the people that do a public service by opening their homes and hearts really do change lives.[2]

Pictured: Sai Kulkarni ‘23 and Phil Tonseth ‘22

On Halloween weekend, this is doubled. On a daily basis we are all pretending to be real adults who know what we are doing and why. So, during a time when that’s not only welcomed but required, you can bet law students are going all out. Sometimes that includes moving all your furniture out of your living room to create a strobe light dance floor like the denizens of Morris House, aka Paige, Pi, Jackson, and our own lovely Jon Peterson. Whether through hilarious donut-themed duo costumes[3] or several iterations of Olivia Rodrigo, you can bet people showed up hard on that first night. Other notable costumes include three Elles Woods, who jointly won the costume contest.

Much like all of us upon realizing that yes, law school is real, this is happening, the second night of the weekend[4] was more intense than the first. With at least three open pregames[5] leading up to a concurrent Bar Review and party hosted by the 3Ls of Thomson House, it was a lot. Did you know that law students stay up till 4 a.m. for something other than their memos? I know, I was surprised too. Featuring even more intense costumes like a Lizzie McGuire reference, the power couple of Night at the Museum, the hosts dressed as each other, and a Gimli/Legolas duo,[6] people were dressed UP. This party could only be described as a homage to the ragers in high school coming-of-age movies with actors in their mid-twenties: in other words, impressive.

The final night[7] featured a great pregame/party hosted at Alderman House by Lambda and including a fantastic performance by Torts Illustrated. The famous law school band were dressed to the nines as famous rockstars and musicians.[8] The party mixed frat basement with concert with a queer-friendly space to truly amazing results. The night ended with a fantastic house party held by the wonderful Skylar, Elizabeth, and Shivani that had the most unique drink decor of the weekend: everything from Jell-O shots to what I think was green jungle juice. Spooky.

As you can probably tell, I just wanted to use my article space this week to talk about my friends. If you’ve been reading any of my work this semester, you’ll have noticed I try to do that a lot. Here at the Law Weekly, we try to balance serious advocacy with good vibes. I try to max out those good vibes and I hope, dear readers, you’ve been doing the same this semester. I wanted to try to use Halloween as a send-off before hunkering down and joining all of you who’ve been outlining since July. You see, we will all be successful and do well on these exams. But I just wanted to use the space I get every week to just keep things lighthearted and fun. So, make sure to do that yourself at the end of this fun season before we truly get spooked by f***ls.

---

omk6cg@virginia.edu

[1] https://www.lawweekly.org/col/2021/9/22/socializing-should-be-a-4-credit-class

[2] By giving people a reason to leave the library.

[3] Shoutout Jon.

[4] Which, contrary to popular belief, is in fact Friday, not Saturday.

[5] Including one held by a Law Review member who put in as much effort in her decorations as her cite checks.

[6] Yes, our lovely Jon was part of this duo too.

[7] I hope none of you deviants went out on Sunday.

[8] Including a great Hannah Montana and a Beetlejuice reference.

All Chair's in Love and War: A Law School Chair Review

We can all agree that law school involves a lot of sitting and complaining. This article combines those two passions. Here is my definitive ranking of chairs around grounds, from best to worst.

 

Tony Hawk of chairs: First floor library (aka the Gunner Pit and the Gunner Dungeon behind it)

Ahh, the gunner pit chairs. They justify the clout shame of actually sitting in the pit. These are well worth their (I’m sure) astounding price tag. Put simply, the first floor library chairs are the gold standard: perfect swivel, back arch, and customizability. The best part is that you forget that you’re sitting in a chair. In all other seats, I find myself contemplating my position, criticizing the chair, acutely aware of my own age and deteriorating spinal health and questionable life choices. These chairs keep me feeling young and inspired. I’ve been tempted to take one for my home office, but then I remember I am an upstanding law student who would never steal and also that I don’t have a home office. 10/10 chairs.

The Most Chair-ished Seats in the Building. Photo Courtesy of UVA Law Instagram.

A solid option: Outside chairs

All things considered, these are alright. No cushion, and many lack armrests, but still somehow better than other competitors. Maybe I’m just too busy basking in the sun outside and making wary eye contact with aggressive squirrels to notice the seats’ shortcomings (I have my teak-y blinders on, if you will). 7/10.

All beauty, no brains: Red chairs on the library’s second floor

This is a begrudging third place because these are really not comfortable, though at least the aesthetic is solid. They give Legally Blonde, “I’m a productive law student” vibes. Ideal for aspiring law school TikTokers to film themselves studying. But the large hump at the top of each chair is meant for whom? Perhaps the Law School’s Chair Procurement Team is trying to force us to have good posture to counteract the perpetual Law Student Slouch. If so, they’ve gone too far. These deliver in appearance only what they do not in comfort, rendering an otherwise good floor of the library undesirable. 5/10.

An argument for shorter classes: Classroom chairs (except WB 104)

I may just be conflating being bored in class with being physically uncomfortable (highly possible), but I’m not a fan of most classroom chairs. They’re kind of garbage. Special shoutout to the old ones in Brown Hall classrooms. Those have that fun squeak, so everyone stares when you have to jostle yourself awake in Torts by moving around (not at all speaking from personal experience). I suppose the ones in Slaughter are a tad better, since at least they’re not connected to the tables. Still, my lumbar hurts. 4.5/10.

Literal room for improvement: Quiet ScoCo + east side of second floor Library

These are SO short, and for what reason? I didn’t realize having a long torso was a prerequisite to getting into UVA Law, but maybe it should be because asymmetrically elongated people are the only group these chairs can accommodate. I’m a person of reasonable height, and my elbows are at my neck when I try to type here. Makes these spots much more optimal for reading textbooks (ew) than for computer-based studying (i.e. texting on desktop iMessage). 3/10.

Honorable mentions:

Honorable mention to the very comfy chairs and footrests in the Brown Hall lounges. Also to the massage chairs in the Circulation Room.[1] Underutilized, probably because if you’re in one, you awkwardly have to face everyone coaxing the printers to work while you struggle to loosen up the knots caused by the aforementioned chairs.

Massage helping a student after a ruff day. Photo Courtesy of UVA Law Instagram.

In conclusion, I should probably just do some ab exercises and build some core strength so I don’t resemble a C while sitting. Still, I would appreciate it if the chairs we spend so much time in would help me out a bit.

---

mav3p@virginia.edu

[1] RIP, massage chairs of yore. –Eds. 

Prepared to Prosecute?

Michael Berdan ‘22
Opinions Editor

Emily Bazelon’s excellent book Charged: The New Movement to Transform American Prosecution and End Mass Incarceration describes the movement for so-called “progressive prosecution.” Progressive prosecutors purport to operate under a lower-incarceration ethos, choosing alternatives to incarceration, non-prosecution of certain cases (such as low-level drug offenses), and other means to try to steer the ship of the justice system toward less carceral shoals. Examples of this movement are Philadelphia’s Larry Krasner, San Francisco’s Chesa Boudin, and just out our back door, Jim Hingeley in Albemarle County. Bazelon is hopeful, if appropriately skeptical, regarding this movement. 

But we must admit that it is somewhat shocking that prosecutors have individual discretion over such tremendously consequential state action. The public tends to imagine our system of criminal prosecution as something of a machine or a process, where the law is applied mechanically and uniformly. But law students come to recognize that the law rarely applies uniformly, cleanly, or mechanically, and there is, in fact, quite a bit of flexibility in the rules for the exercise of discretion. Bazelon’s book, and progressive prosecution proponents, focus on this exercise of discretion as a critical hinge point between the out-of-control incarceration we’ve seen in the past several decades and a system that safeguards the public good without the enormous fiscal and human costs of over-incarceration. Indeed, between justice and injustice. 

I have seen only a glimpse of this as a third-party observer, when a friend of mine was arrested and charged, purportedly for throwing rocks at his ex-girlfriend's car. The only evidence was an inconsistent and highly coincidental statement from the alleged victim. My friend had an alibi - he was half an hour away at a friend’s home, all night. The prosecutor chose to charge my friend with terrorist threats and assault with a deadly weapon, and held him on enormous bail. My friend sat in jail, trying to get his absentee assigned counsel to speak to his alibi witness, to no avail. Finally, after ten months behind bars, he could no longer stand it, so he pled out to a felony on his record and was released on parole. 

A recent article by a trio of law professors sought to quantify the exercise of prosecutorial discretion across jurisdictions by presenting 500 prosecutors with a single set of facts and asking how they would handle it.1 The hypothetical involved a man who was having an emotional breakdown at a bus stop while holding a knife, culminating in him briefly grabbing a woman by the arm. No one was physically injured, and the man was arrested. The prosecutors’ answers varied wildly, from dismissing the case outright to seeking felony prosecution and significant jail time. Many respondents talked about teaching the individual a lesson or deterring future acts in vaguely paternalistic tones. A number of respondents mentioned the mental health concerns at play, but many indicated they would seek conviction and incarceration regardless. 

I can’t help but wonder how those of my colleagues intending to become prosecutors would respond to the hypothetical posed in the article or to my friend’s case. It dawns on me that a student can enter UVA Law at 21 or 22 years old, graduate at 24 or 25, and enter their first job, perhaps in a city and community entirely new to them, as a line prosecutor deciding whether individuals like my friend should be held in jail, marked for life with a felony conviction, incarcerated for months or years, or released without charges. They almost surely have never been incarcerated themselves, likely have never been arrested, and may never have known an incarcerated person or even visited a jail or prison. I wonder whether my prosecution-bound colleagues understand the tremendous weight of the discretion they’re about to be handed, or even if understanding is possible. 

Ninety-five percent of elected prosecutors in the United States are white, and seventy-five percent are white men.2 Are the future prosecutors among us reckoning with the fact that they are choosing a career that will have them incarcerating people of color at heavily disproportionate rates? Are they being required to do so by their legal education? A student could conceivably graduate and become a prosecutor, having 1L Criminal Law and Criminal Procedure as the only courses on the subject they have taken. They may have little or no understanding of disparities in race and economic class in the criminal justice system or the possibilities presented by the movements for progressive prosecution, alternatives to incarceration and policing, or prison abolition. Surely some of our criminal law professors are building some of these concepts into their curriculum,3 but an academic awareness is quite different from the grounded understanding that comes from having been incarcerated oneself or loving someone who is incarcerated. Do those among us who will soon be exercising the tremendous power of prosecutorial discretion truly understand what they’ll be doing? Do career prosecutors even get it? 

---

mwb4pk@virginia.edu

Fauxfield: Inside the Band

Clint Roscoe ‘23
Staff Editor


The drive over to Crozet on Friday morning was bright, sunny, and still a little crisp. A perfect day for debaucherous shenanigans at Charlottesville’s favorite old-house-turned-outdoor-pizza-bar. I was really glad I had packed and loaded up the whole drum kit the night before. Not because the weather had anything to do with that: it just always sucks, I just love sleeping in.

Since Torts Illustrated would be playing, and I’m the drummer, my experience was bound to be a little different than your average Fauxfielder, but I was super psyched for it. We finished getting set up and running a soundcheck right around the time they brought in the huge FAUXFIELD balloons (that took me an embarrassingly long time to figure out. I know we’re all bad at math; are we allowed to be bad at English, too?) I’m also pretty sure we tripped one of Crozet’s circuit breakers at some point – I was out grabbing more equipment when it happened, but that’s cool, right? I don’t know. I’m the only one of us that’s not wired up to anything, and that’s probably best for everyone involved. The last thing anyone needs is a drummer playing with electricity.

I had been a little worried about space before I got there, but as I unloaded the kit and started setting up equipment with the rest of the band, Crozet and their stage delivered. It was like that little magic bag from Harry Potter – doesn’t look that big, but did it fit two PAs, extra guitars and pedals, microphones, an entire drum kit, and six people? Yes. Yes it did. I didn’t think anything could contain the sheer rocking power of our guitarists – Davin Laskin ’22, Ethan Treacy ’23, and our bassist, Kelli McQuillan ’23. Nor did I expect there to be room for our vocalist Marc Kilani ’22 and guest vocalist Rachel Wunderli to belt out some Papa Roach and Paramore, but I’m very happy to have been proven wrong on all counts.

We finished the first half of the set as the sun began to set and the darty turned into a normal party. This was exciting, because the second half had “Enter Sandman” in it, which is my favorite song because, as I said before, I love sleeping. That would have to wait until later, though, because we cranked the PAs a bit and had an even bigger blast with the rest of the set – judging by the copious amount of beer flowing and the dancing of the crowd, I hope you all did too. By the time the last notes of “I Want It That Way” faded out, I was more than a little exhausted, very stoked to have played another gig, and mostly impressed with myself for not falling backwards over Crozet’s railing. (That has to have happened to someone at some point, right? Maybe the balcony at Trin? The whole Corner feels like a premises liability hypo waiting to happen.)

For how tucked into a corner[1] it is, I was very impressed by how easy it was to load everything into and out of Crozet’s staging area; they obviously do this a lot and it shows. We packed everything out as quickly as we had come in – many thanks to the extra hands that helped us – and joined the rest of the school in the exodus to one of the many afterparties that would, in true UVA fashion, inevitably end up back on the Corner.

Before Friday, 1Ls and 2Ls alike had been asking me what Fauxfield was for about a month, and it kept feeling like I was making up the answer because I was just repeating what I had heard about it. The blind leading the blind, so to speak. I’m sure I’m not alone among the 2L class in feeling like that a lot over the last couple months. Institutional knowledge has had an interesting relationship with the pandemic – the blurred outlines[2] of normally annual events are still there, but their exact details are a little fuzzy. Lucky for us, I think it keeps working out. I don’t know exactly what Fauxfield’s past looked like, and that’s okay. Because THIS Fauxfield rained Jell-O shots, pizza, balloons, and the sick tones of Davin’s guitar blasting out the main riff from “Sweet Child O’ Mine,” and that was pretty awesome.

Lastly, I’ve got to give a big thank you to everyone who attended and helped facilitate Fauxfield. I’m immensely glad to have an opportunity to play the drums again, especially around so many wonderful people. I know I speak for the entire band when I say we all had a fantastic time, and we can’t wait to get back out there. See you all at the next big gig.

[1] Ba-dum *tsch*

[2] Apologies for using this word so close to November.

Fauxfield: A 3L's Perspective

Phil Tonseth ‘23
Editor-in-Chief

Darty, the colloquial phrase for a day party, is the base theme for Fauxfield. To the casual observer, Fauxfield is nothing more than law students enjoying pizza, refreshments, and quality bands all day long. However, after taking a year off, Fauxfield is both the Alpha and Omega for UVA Law in the fall, establishing the line of demarcation between summer and winter. It signals the transition from a carefree first few months of class, football tailgates, and Thursday nights spent at Carter Mountain getting the perfect picture for “the ’gram,” to the impending doom of finals season for 1Ls, cuffing season for everyone else, and sweater weather. Filled with debauchery, I invite you to join along and experience the journey of Fauxfield from a 3L’s perspective.

6:03 – Alarm goes off. I already regret how this day is starting.

6:24 – Eating a Granny Smith apple, followed by blue raspberry fireworks-flavored pre-workout for breakfast, continuing my bad ideas to start the day.

6:57 – A doggo at The Gym™ let me pet him. Plus, I got some face licks. My day will only go downhill from here.

Undetermined time – I did work out during this intermission. I also took a lot of breaks, a few gym selfies, and shopped for some new Lululemon workout gear.

9:04 – Time for breakfast. Nothing says “let’s get this bread” like 2 sausage biscuits, 4 hashbrowns, and a 20 ounce tallboy of Bud Light.

10:01 – Walk in to get a haircut. The Jersey Shore bois almost knew how to do it right: Gym, T(ake time to get a haircut)an, and laundry, eventually.

10:46 – My man spent 45 minutes on my hair. It feels quaffed, fresh, and I even got a free beard trim. Crozet doesn’t know what it has coming.

11:28 – I will be late to the pregame/birthday party. I forgot to meal prep my lunch and my mirror looked too good to walk away.

12:14 – The utmost and best shoutout goes to Ariell Branson. I have never seen a pong shot go over the table, hit an uneven brick beyond the playing surface, and bounce back into the cup. I thought my day had peaked when I was licked by a doggo, but it just got better.

12:16 – I was told my crop top wasn’t short enough. I apologized to my fans; I won’t be caught slipping like that again.

1: 14 – I’ve been told there will be a balloon fort at Fauxfield. I was already excited for the endless pizza, but the surprises from this day just keep getting better.

1:15 – Reports are false. There are balloons, but solely to spell out “Fauxfield.” I expected more.

1:50 – Roni Courtney, one of the amazing organizers of the event, desperately tells the pregame to go to Crozet now. It seems as though she’s there alone; she shan’t suffer like this.

2:07 – Literally nobody else is here except four 3L boys who showed up already. I’m not sure which group suffered the bigger social faux pas here.

2:10 – Free pizza is being served. Good thing I wore my stretchy pants today.

2:48 – Nate Wunderli introduced me to his family attending Fauxfield from out of town. While his brother was cool, his sister rocked it out on stage and gave Paramore’s Hayley Williams a run for her money. Props to a talented family.

2:49 – I just swatted Nate Wunderli’s drink onto the ground, thinking I could just hit the bee on the rim instead. Good thing we got two free drink tickets, here’s my last one bud.

3:30 – I move upstairs. Too many cool kids are dancing on the balcony, and I want to join.

3:32 – The bartenders upstairs set up two pong tables. Maybe the balcony will wait.

4:45 – I had way too many pong partners to thank, but victory sure tastes sweet. Apologies to Kelli Finnegan and Craig Campbell for taking so many L’s. Better luck next time.

5:00 – I think this is when Torts Illustrated started. While I’m watching from the balcony, they have the place rocking.

No idea – I’m leaving Crozet. You’d think I’d be tired and dehydrated after starting to celebrate Fauxfield ~9 hours ago, but to another party here I go.

8:12 – I find myself playing King’s Cup, but praise the sweet soul of Chris Leveroni for bringing me a glass of water.

8:59 – Call me old, but it’s almost my bedtime. Time to summon the uber.

9:17 – My cat is giving me a disapproving look. She smells this morning’s doggo and is only offering not to claw me for double her normal treats. I’m bad at negotiating.

10:01 – Not sure how I lost 40 minutes on my phone instead of sleeping, especially when I don’t even TikTok, but it’s officially time for bed. Food for thought for next year’s advertisers of Fauxfield: by day-drinking so early, we can all still go to bed at a reasonable time.

 ---

pjt5hm@virginia.edu

Law School Guide to Cuffing Season

Jonathan Peterson ‘23
Satire Editor & Photographer


            Merriam-Webster defines “cuffing season” as “a period of time where single people begin looking for short term partnerships to pass the colder months of the year.” These “colder months” are typically viewed as beginning in October and ending around Valentine’s Day. Suffice to say, we’re in the thick of it. And if you have yet to find your short-term love, time may be running out.

            However, fear not, all ye bachelors and bachelorettes, for I am here to pave the way towards five blissful months of snuggles which slowly reveal that the two of you are decidedly incompatible. But that’s okay. I’m not here to show you how to find the one. I’m only here to show you how to find a one.

            The first question you’re probably asking is “where do I even start?” Good question. First, you must decide what pool of people best suit your cuffing season needs. And I’m here, once and only once in my life, to vouch for Darden. Think about it for a second. If you’ve read my Tips for 1Ls, you may have realized that my suggestion that you date within the law school was in jest. This especially applies to cuffing season. Like Apple, cuffing season makes heavy use of planned obsolescence. And when the now-obsolete investment has emotions, friends, and a family, it may be better not to have to engage with them at every Bar Review, in the halls, and, if you’re a 1L, for the next three years. But Darden? They might as well be from the moon.

            Still, you may be asking, why Darden? Why not look to the Med School or perhaps try to find a nursing student?[1] As one who is familiar with the Socratic method, let me ask you a question in response: Why look for a partner during cuffing season at all? According to the Merriam-Webster dictionary, there is only one real answer: to find a warm body. And what good is a warm body who is as busy or busier than you? This is the true power of Darden—their availability. Unlike other graduate students, your Darden hunny will be there for you when you leave for class, when you get back from class, after a difficult cold call, and really any time they’re not at North Grounds’ gym or “networking.”

            So, you have your starting point. What’s next? You’re going to have to go it alone for a bit, as I cannot select a Darden student for you.[2] However, once you’ve made your selection, I can start giving tips again.

            First: don’t be open and honest. You’re in it for the long haul. You’re waiting for a ring. You’re definitely not planning on ending things within a month of Valentine’s Day. The reason for this farce is quite simple—you need someone on call for those chilly nights in Pav,[3] and to get someone on call, you need commitment. Admittedly, some of you might have moral qualms about this—fear not. Your morals would probably be warranted if you were planning a law student’s obsolescence.[4] The morals would certainly be warranted for a med student or a nurse, people who will go on to do actual good in this world. However, the simple beauty of Darden students rears its well-groomed head once again. It is an a priori fact that we need not engage in moral reasoning in relation to our Darden compatriots.

            Second: pick your shows well. We all know you’ll be watching Netflix, Hulu, HBO, whatever floats your boat, with your Darden cuddle buddy. But be sure to be selective. There’s nothing worse than being on season four of Friends with your partner when cuffing season ends, and you move on to greener pastures. Keep the shows short and sweet, so that when the fateful day rolls around, you can pull the plug on the same night as the finale of whatever show you chose. This will serve two purposes—not only are you not stuck with a half-watched, memory-filled series, but your ex-partner gets let down softer thanks to the feeling of finality and satisfaction that accompanies finishing a show.

            Third, and final: don’t get attached. If you’ve listened to my advice thus far, you should be good on this front, namely because you’ll be with someone from Darden. However, this doesn’t mean you’re free and clear just yet. Those pesky little feelings of caring for someone emotionally can always crop up, whether you like it or not, and you have to be on guard.

            There you have it. If you’ve read diligently and briefed this article, your chances of success this cuffing season will be astronomical. If not, good luck to you. Perhaps you’ll be the one fading into obsolescence this coming February.

[1] Don’t even mention undergrads to me. They’re off the table (and probably on an elevated surface).

[2] However, if you’re seeking individualized help, please reach out to me at jtp4bw@virginia.edu. We can always set a time to workshop your options.

[3] If you’re in Ivy, you better be making use of those fireplaces for cuffing season.

[4] Be nice to the public service people.

Fall Break: What We Did Instead of Outlining

Sai Kulkarni ‘23
Culture Editor


Unlike a few other members of this distinguished paper, I did not happen to skip my Thursday classes. I only used the traditional length of break. Very surprising and an off-brand move for me, I know.[1] But during my brief sojourn from the wonderful town of Charlottesville, I happened to stop in the big city before making my way back home. The real heart of the south and the fastest-growing city in America.[2] I’m talking Raleigh, North Carolina. I went down there to visit my best friends who are now engaged. Aside from the existential dread and the knowledge that I need to grow up soon, I managed to tour the local eateries and cultural hotspots while there. That town boasts an amazing mixed food scene. I sampled some South American and Southern American fusion that made me wonder why no one had made me try something like that before. Dipped ice cream and custard helped drown the aforementioned dread. I even managed to find my way into a speakeasy that blasted oldies, boasted remarkably expensive libations, and had people dressed up fancier than an underground fake Barrister’s Ball event. We finished up my time there by going to a nice local brunch spot where I further drowned my happiness[3] in cinnamon rolls. I spent the next few days at home in Florida where I got to spend time with my newly retired parents. In sum, I spent my entire break with people in a new place in life and realized that I haven’t changed in a year and a half. Clearly, I thrived over fall break.

Nathan Wunderli ‘22
Sports Editor


Over the break, I was able to experience nature in many forms. First, I took a trip to Luray, Virginia, where I visited the largest caverns in the Eastern United States. My review of the caverns is mixed. If you’ve never experienced cave viewing before, it is definitely something you should try. It is unbelievable what nature can createthrough geologic processes. While I have nothing bad to say about the caverns themselves, which are spectacular, the commercialization of the caverns takes away a lot of the mystery and thought-provoking tone caves usually inspire. The man-made walkways, extensive lighting, guardrails, and man-made wishing well at the end almost made it seem like man is trying one-up what Mother Nature already completed to natural, rugged perfection. There was also the employee who kept trying to tell us what he thought the cave structures look like: “that one looks like a dog,” or “that one looks like a dragon.” Nice guy, but dude, I’m not a 6-year-old at Disneyland looking for Mickey Mouse. We also had to deal with a claustrophobic lady, who made it a point to tell us how claustrophobic she is feeling, and that she is making a beeline for the exits, before she seemingly forgets her ailments and stops every five minutes to take pictures.

            The Rescue Zoo, also located in Luray, offers another paradigm of man and nature. While trying to decide if these animals are better off in the zoo, in nature, or wherever they were “rescued” from is too fact-intensive and subjective for me to wrap my head around, the entertainment value of the zoo was undeniable. While the number and type of animals were less than a typical, large commercial zoo, the liveliness of the animals made up for it. One monkey even thought it was funny to throw a piece of food at me, which I took as a token of friendship.

            Shenandoah is the most natural of the spots I visited. Being able to look out in the distance and see only rolling hills, perched on a rock formation that provides a glimpse of Shenandoah’s mightier past as one of the highest formations in the world, never disappoints. I also visited Walnut Creek Park and Ragged Mountain. While I went there to mountain bike, they are also great hiking trails not too far from Charlottesville around a fun lake. Walnut Creek is a great spot for a picnic, to relax, or to take a swim. Ragged Mountain provides a similar opportunity close by to hike, enjoy great views, and relax, but does not allow swimming.

Jonathan Peterson ‘23
Satire Editor & Photographer

 

While last year’s fall break substitute of apples was certainly appreciated, I must admit, it did not compare to a real fall break. This year, some friends and I made the four-and-a-half-hour drive down to Lake Norman, about thirty minutes outside of Charlotte, North Carolina. The trip consisted of, in the main, activities. The house was equipped with ping-pong, a dart board, a cornhole set, two kayaks, and two stand-up paddleboards. While some of us were weighted down with cite checks, and others with grading contracts exams, these obligations never brought spirits down.

            Ping pong competition was furious: late-arrival Graham Buck ’24 clearly outclassed Megan Phansalkar ’23 and myself, although I personally attribute this to his young, limber 1L joints, and a brain unsullied by the ins-and-outs of property rights.

            A heated pong tournament also took place, with an unprecedented run by the last-place seed to oust the first-place seed in the finals. In short, Alexandra Kasper ’23 and I took home the win in glorious fashion.

            The two pong winners also had a notable island experience; after making the grueling (for me) paddle out to a distant island, we spotted a black bear from a considerable distance. Rightfully fearing our pong-playing abilities, the bear fled on sight.

            Finally, perhaps the most memorable experience was a murder mystery game, conducted in similar fashion to NBC’s hit The Office. Paige Kennett ’23 and Jeffrey Horn ’23 surprised us all with the mysterious death of Deputy Drinkwater. Ultimately, the killer was Dewdrop Pinn, played to perfection by Kasper, and rooted out by Casey Coalburner, played by Horn.

 

Julia D’Rozario ‘24
Staff Editor

 

            Last Saturday, October 16, I was lucky enough to have the opportunity to see All Time Low live at The Ritz in Raleigh. Like many current twenty-somethings, I spent the ages of eleven to thirteen listening exclusively to boybands with Hot Topic merch— think Fall Out Boy,[4] Panic! at the Disco, My Chemical Romance… Enter All Time Low. There were entire months of middle school during which I listened exclusively to ‘Damned If I Do (Ya), Damned If I Don’t’.[5]  Needless to say, I’ve been beyond excited for this concert.

            The venue was great. Given the times, I was more than a little nervous about going to a concert; but The Ritz took every precaution to ensure a safe experience. Every concertgoer was required to show proof of vaccination or a negative COVID test in order to get in, everyone was wearing a mask, and the venue was roomy enough to give breathing room to those of us who haven’t yet reacclimated to the squishiness of a mosh pit.

            There were two openers, Meet Me @ The Altar and Nothing, Nowhere. Both are relatively new bands signed by Fueled by Ramen[6] — the label of a huge number of iconic musicians, including many alternative rock and pop punk artists. Neither opener struck me as reminiscent of All Time Low’s sound, but both are definitely worth checking out. Meet Me @ The Altar is a pop punk group in the truest sense, with heavy guitar and bass, heavy drums, a badass sound and amazing energy.[7] Nothing, Nowhere is harder to fit into a single genre; Wikipedia describes their sound as ‘emo rap’, ‘trap’ and ‘indie rock’, which seems about right to me. Their music is an interesting combination of dark and upbeat, with trap-music beats over minor-key melodies.

            By the time All Time Low came on, everyone was properly hyped. The very second the band stepped on stage, girls and boys (read: adults, in our mid-twenties) across the venue reverted to their pre-teen selves, screaming and jumping at the very sight of the members.[8]  Their setlist was great, but that wasn’t really the point; I went largely for the sentimentality— for the sake of my inner thirteen-year-old. They played a lot of music from their newest album, ‘Wake Up, Sunshine’, which I really love. But the highlights of the night were when they played their older music— the music that appealed to middle school nostalgia. I might have teared up a little during ‘Weightless.’

It was good to relive my teenage angst for a night— back to adulthood and civil procedure!

---

omk6cg@virginia.edu
nw7cz@virginia.edu
jtp4bw@virginia.edu
jkd2dd@virginia.edu

[1] I blame Julia Grant ’23. She guilt-tripped me by talking about the “importance of classes” and “the value of academic achievement” and “saving your absences for when you are actually sick.” Smh. Where’s blind support when you need it?

[2] People there mention this a lot. Seriously.

[3] Yes, it was happiness for my best friends and nothing else.

[4] Fall Out Boy— where emo music meets lawyering: check out “I’m Like a Lawyer with the Way I’m Always Trying to Get You Off” and “Our Lawyer Made Us Change the Name of This Song So We Wouldn’t Get Sued.”

[5] On my lime green iPod Mini.

[6] To name just a few bands: Paramore, Twenty One Pilots, and Panic! at the Disco are actively signed to the label. Alumni include Fall Out Boy and 3OH!3.

[7] The cherry on top is that the group is made up of women of color— a particularly underrepresented group in pop punk.

[8] I, like many others at the concert, have been fostering a decade-long crush on Alex Gaskarth.

LIST Kicks Off October with Tech Event Lineup

Rachel Martin ‘23
Columns Editor

 

The Law, Innovation, Security, and Technology (LIST) student group started October off strong with a list of technology-focused events, with more on the horizon. Read on for coverage of their “Intro to Tech Law” and “Privacy and Democracy in Technology” events, and mark your calendars for their upcoming event on global supply chain issues, “The Tab on FABs: Semiconductor Supply Chain Security,” taking place next Monday (October 25) at noon in the Purcell Reading Room.

 

Intro to Tech Law

LIST’s “Intro to Tech Law” event took place on October 5. As illustrated by the lineup of speakers, “tech law” encompasses a wide range of practice areas: Kirk Nahra, partner at WilmerHale, works primarily on privacy, security, and regulatory matters in the healthcare sector; Samantha Kosarzycki, associate at Troutman Pepper, does transactional work with technology and life sciences companies; Joseph Mutschelknaus, director in Sterne Kessler’s Electronics Practice group, does patent application, litigation, and licensing work; and Charlie Wood, associate at Cooley, works on cybersecurity litigation and white collar investigations. As such, whatever kind of work you’re interested in, chances are you can find a tech law angle to it.

            Tech law encompasses a host of exciting, rapidly evolving areas to be working in, and with a few exceptions (such as patent prosecution), it usually does not require a STEM background. “Literally no one on the planet was a privacy lawyer in 1987 when I got out of law school,” Nahra noted, and with the constant development of new technologies like facial recognition, even a junior associate can very quickly become a leading expert on something. In fact, sometimes technical laypersons are better at the important task of translating technical terms into language other non-experts like regulators can understand. Wood qualified that a technical background can be useful for some positions, however, and one at the very least needs an interest in the relevant areas and a willingness to learn. How does one get up to speed in an unfamiliar area? “I buy a couple of graduate-level textbooks in the area and read them,” Mutschelknaus said.

            There are many reasons to go into tech law. Mutschelknaus is passionate about working with startups, Nahra enjoys seeing his clients in the news and people’s daily lives, Kosarzycki enjoys the fast pace, and Wood enjoys diving deep into matters and building relationships with clients. Andrew Nell ’23, president of LIST, had this to add: “[Tech law] is a field in flux … [this] means you have a chance to shape the legal architecture that could govern our space for generations to come.” Nell also extended this invitation: “I had no idea tech law would become my passion when I came to UVA . . . . find something you love, find people who are doing it, and find out how you can become a part of that community ... I invite anyone in the law school who has any interest in this space to join us in the future.”

 

Privacy and Technology in Democracy

On October 14, LIST, the American Constitution Society (ACS), and the Law School’s new LawTech Center joined together to co-sponsor an event on privacy and democracy in the age of technology. The speakers were Professor Danielle Citron, director of the LawTech center; Megan Gray, principal at Gray Matters Law & Policy and former DuckDuckGo general counsel and FTC attorney; and Rachel Levinson-Waldman, deputy director of the Brennan Center for Justice’s Liberty & National Security Program and former trial attorney in the DOJ Civil Rights Division.

            With the events of January 6 and the ongoing Facebook debacle, online moderation and privacy are major topics of conversation. Much of this discussion has focused on 47 U.S.C. § 230. Originally enacted as part of the Communications Decency Act, § 230 shields online platforms like Facebook, Twitter, and Reddit from liability for what users post to their sites and for any “good faith” content moderation they do undertake. This lack of liability is a double-edged sword: it enables Twitter to avoid cracking down on protesters in Cairo, but also allows things like revenge porn sites, which are pretty much all based in the United States, Professor Citron explained. Gray noted that it also incentivizes the amplification of viral content that increases user engagement, which includes not only toxic hate speech and harmful conspiracy theories like “Stop the Steal,” but also movements like “Me Too” that we may want to encourage.

            Is there a way to reform § 230? Ultimately, it may be a matter of what tradeoffs one is willing to accept. Professor Citron advocated for conditioning platform immunity on the platforms engaging in responsible content moderation of clear instances of illegality causing serious harm, such as online stalking, child predation, and threats. She argued that, among other problems, failing to moderate such content actually reduces free speech by driving disadvantaged people offline. Gray, however, thought that more moderation would inevitably lead to companies being overcautious about filtering and “throwing the baby out with the bathwater,” and she would rather “take the ‘Stop the Steals’ with the ‘Me Toos.’” She also expressed concern that the extra costs of moderation would shut smaller players out of the market, which would ultimately make things worse. Professor Citron did not share this concern, arguing that what is “reasonable” moderation could vary based on the size of the platform. She also took the position that this is just a cost of business that must be internalized, saying that she was not going to “cry a river [over] startups with poor business models,” noting that many startups actually have quite a bit of outside funding.

            Rather than fighting about moderation, though, perhaps we should be more worried about other aspects of online speech. Levinson-Waldman spoke on privacy issues relating to police searches of social media, with more information than ever about our lives online. Professor Citron and Gray both expressed concern at the level of tracking private companies, which are not affected by the  Fifth Amendment, employ as part of targeted advertising. Gray advocated for the banning of “surveillance advertising” and more enforcement of antitrust laws. She suggested that this would actually help ameliorate some of the concerns about moderation, noting that if people had more options, companies would be pressured to create more positive environments. “The theme in all this is ‘money is power’. . . money and power trump everything” Gray said, and until we can address how the big advertising companies make their money, we will not be able to get to the root of the problem.

---

rdm9yn@virginia.edu

John Mulaney Doesn't Pull Punches, Especially Against Himself

Stan Birch ‘22
Managing Editor

A month ago when we booked the tickets, I was in the dark about the rollercoaster of a year John Mulaney had just lived through. Reader, to say I was surprised when I was brought up to speed by a classmate would be a massive understatement. I was floored. In the blink of an eye for me,[1] a show to see a great comic had now become a chance to see one of two things: someone crash and burn or someone rise from the ashes. What I got was completely unexpected and even better than I could have imagined. I got both.[2]

The line in front of the Kimmel Center in Philadelphia spanned several blocks out two doors, and the crowd was lively. The end of the line involved proof of vaccination with an ID and then a trip to will-call. I noticed a large number of ticket-holders under the age of sixteen, and had questions for the parents that were leading them to seats. This was one of the first shows back for a recently recovered addict, after all. Maybe the show wouldn’t focus too much on drug use or recovery.[3]

The next step to get to my seat invoked a flashback to the second time I took the LSAT. I dropped my phone in a Yondr bag and they sealed it tight. I watched many people panic about not being attached to their phone for two hours, but I personally breathed a sigh of relief. If you’ve been to a concert or a show in the last decade, you’ve watched part of that event through your own phone screen or the screen of the 6’2” guy in front of you who filmed the entire thing.[4] For the artists, the absence of phones allows them to be honest, experimental, and comfortable connecting to an audience. This was necessary for the show to come.

The Academy of Music itself is a stunning venue and added an extra element to my first comedy show back after 2020. The lights dimmed and Seaton Smith came out onto stage to open. Immediately launching into edgy and enjoyable material, Smith perfectly primed the audience for punchlines to come. With a very distinct presentation that appeared simultaneously at-ease but anxious, Smith tackled topic after topic while delicately walking the razor's edge of going too far. Then it was time for the main act.

John Mulaney strutted out onto stage in a very familiar manner, greeted the audience, acknowledged the year he had just lived through, and then began to artfully drag us all alongside him through his supposed fall. He opened up about the challenges he’s faced, the true level of his addiction, his road to recovery, and even his upcoming child.[5] In the hopes that there is an upcoming special in his future, I’ll avoid divulging much of his material here. However, if you thought that his return to the stage would be a Sack-Lunch-Bunch reprise, you would be very mistaken. He talked with members of the audience who had been through treatment and pulled no punches against himself. Mulaney shocked audience members with how bad his addiction was. Asking as an “amateur-drug-trafficker,” he still wants to know what civilians use Venmo for.[6] I regret not buying a t-shirt, but after the comedian bluntly admitted it would be nice if everyone bought one since “for some reason his assets were being accounted for and divided,” the line was literally out the door.

Talking us from his drug-induced high to his withdrawal-induced low with such intimacy and openness, what the audience saw in front of them was someone truly rising from the ashes. The night of his star-studded intervention he may have been “cocaine skinny with a fresh haircut,” but I think Mulaney looks healthier and happier than ever before.

At the end of the day, I’m just glad to see the son of a Northwestern Law Professor and a Skadden M&A Partner doing anything but pursuing a J.D.

Mulaney is back.

[1] But several grueling months for the comedian.

[2] John, if by some sick twist of fate you’re reading this, please take my sarcastic jokes as an audition to write with you and just pretend I was left off of that same email chain as Nick Kroll.

[3] Oh, just wait.

[4] Reader, if this is you, please tell me when you ever watched that 46 minutes of footage all the way through. Separately, if you have ever done this on an iPad, I invite you to frisbee it into the nearest body of water.

[5] In a decision that can only be described as classy, he only mentioned his upcoming child once, keeping the focus of the evening on his own “endeavors.”

[6] Did you know that you can max out your Venmo, Cashapp, and PayPal accounts monthly? Mulaney knows.

Yesterday’s Forgotten News: The Tale of Sergeant Stubby

Will Holt ‘23
Reviews Editor


Perhaps due to dogs’ ascendant status in modern society, few folks today appreciate the true working heritage of their slobbery, four-legged friends. To note some examples, Corgis served as valiant cattle-herders and, according to local legend, as steeds for Welsh fairies; the English translation of the German word Dachshund is “badger dog;” and the ancestors of today’s greyhounds hunted hare, gazelle, and other speedy game thousands of years ago. But while such facts often prove surprising to the uninformed, they raise few moral questions. People often are appalled to learn, however, the precarious roles canines played in past wars (such inhumanity proves incomprehensible to us, the most enlightened generation of all). Unfortunately, our ignorance results in the foreclosure of these iron pups’ legacy, a phenomenon which is particularly pronounced in our memory of the Great War, one of America’s most poorly understood conflicts.

            With the exception of horses and mules, of which millions died on the Western Front alone, few, if any, other animal species played a more important role in World War I than the common dog, Canis lupus familiaris. Dogs served as messengers, carried supplies, offered their noses in aid of search and rescue, and brought comfort to countless men of all nations. Some armies even employed canines in combat roles: the Belgians, for instance, used mastiffs to tow machine guns, often while under fire, through the narrow village streets and boggy lowlands of Flanders. It is not a terrible exaggeration to say that each of these humble beasts contributed as much to the ultimate defeat of the Teutonic horde as any trooper’s mount. Such giants’ combat careers, however, were relatively short; those who survived the furious campaigns of 1914 usually faced obsolescence when the lines ossified into the mundanity of trench warfare. Yet, other canines continued to make their presence known, perhaps the most noteworthy example of which being a little Yankee dog who is known to history as Sergeant Stubby.

            Born on an unknown date in 1916, the pup who would become known as Stubby lived the first months of his life as a rover on the streets of New Haven, Connecticut. As one may have expected, the then nameless dog’s military career began in rather unremarkable style. Noticed skulking about Yale University by U.S. Army recruits training on campus, he eventually befriended one James Conroy, a Corporal in the 102d Infantry Regiment. It was Conroy who named the creature “Stubby” (a fitting reference to the pup’s underdeveloped tail) and taught him tricks to provide a source of amusement in camp. Ultimately, it was these little gimmicks that bought Stubby his ticket to France (Conroy’s superior approved the idea only after the dog rendered him a salute with his tiny paw). France, however, soon proved to be a world apart from the Atlantic’s western shores, and all of the 102d’s men and beasts faced previously unimaginable hardships.

Sergeant Stubby.jpg

            Arriving in the Fall of 1917 as a part of the 26th Infantry Division, the 102d was one of the first American units to see frontline service in World War I. Stubby, along with the rest of the Regiment, first saw combat on February 5, 1918 and he suffered his first wounds two months later while accompanying an attack near St. Mihiel. Stubby, unlike many others, offered no excuses and, after a convalescence where he also served as a much appreciated distraction for his fellow patients, promptly returned to his unit. Participating in that summer’s decisive battles, the pup again required medical treatment, this time after an exposure to mustard gas. Upon recovering, however, he learned to use his keen olfactory sense to detect gas and alert his companions to its presence, granting them precious additional seconds to affix their protective equipment. Stubby also exploited his small size and nimble feet to navigate the hazards of no-man’s-land in search of wounded men who otherwise could have spent hours or days alone and exposed. Perhaps most remarkably, Stubby used his doggy intuition to identify a German infiltrator and then detained him until human help could arrive to secure the capture. For his heroism on that occasion, the unit’s commander symbolically promoted Stubby to the rank of Sergeant. By the time of the Armistice, the little soldier had participated in seventeen battles and had thrice been wounded in action.

            Sergeant Stubby, once a simple New Haven street dog, returned stateside to a hero’s welcome. He marched in victory parades, appeared in vaudeville performances to the amusement of many an audience, and received personal decoration from General John “Black Jack” Pershing, commander of the American Expeditionary Force. Stubby even met three presidents during his post-war career as an animal ambassador: Woodrow Wilson, Warren Harding, and Calvin Coolidge. As should be of interest to my fellow law students, while James Conroy attended Georgetown University Law Center, Sergeant Stubby became one of the Hoyas’ first mascots, appearing on the field during halftimes to the raucous joy of every attendee.

            Sergeant Stubby passed away on March 16, 1926, and although his legacy has since faded, all who knew him remembered his indomitable spirit, unshakeable enthusiasm, and all around good boy energy. Furthermore, his record in combat stands tall even amongst mankind’s heroes of the Great War. Perhaps there remains work that Stubby, or rather what remains of his memory, can accomplish. Maybe the forgotten news of his exploits can yet inspire a new generation to consider the War from a different perspective. Perhaps we beings of the twenty-first century will come to enshrine it as a conflict during which nations laid upon the altar not only the dearest of youths, but the best of animalkind as well.

---

wjh4ew@virginia.edu

If We Must, We Should Trade Fall Break for Apples

Anonymous Contributor

 

The COVID-19 pandemic has placed significant and varied pressures on everyone over the past year and a half.

Governments, businesses, and schools had to make hard decisions about what to support and what to cut. People had to adapt to survive. These pressures even impacted our University’s administration.

UVA suffered financial hardship. Last fall, the COVID-19 testing tubes had openings that were spacious spit targets. Later, the University supplied smaller tubes, obviously to save money on plastic.

The University faced logistical struggles as well. For example, the Law School lost its fall break last year. According to the Internet Archive, as of April 24, 2020, fall break was scheduled for October 12-14. But by July 13, 2020, the fall break mysteriously went missing.

Students struggled too. Many students struggled with isolation. More accurately, many students struggled to stay in isolation. Luckily, the University provided a vehicle for vigilant, safety-concerned students to anonymously report these noncompliant embarrassments to the school.

The pandemic exacerbated the disproportionately-high rate of mental health issues among law students. I will not lie; I had my share of issues last year. I appreciated all of the University’s efforts to help ease these problems. Yet, nothing did more for my mental health last year than learning that on October 8, 2020, the University got us fresh apples for ABA Law Student Mental Health Day.

Last year, I heard rumors that the University was forced to choose between two initiatives for student mental health— either fall break or apples. Assuming these rumors are true, I can proudly say that the University made the right choice with the apples. It single-handedly fixed my mental health problems, and the general reception of the gesture was much like mine.

I implore the University administration, please do whatever you can to get more apples. Apples truly are the ultimate solution to the pressures of law school, generally, and pandemic law school specifically. I write anonymously because I am positive that I represent the entire student body on this issue.

If this year as well, a decision must be made between keeping fall break or getting apples, please do the right thing: cancel fall break and get those apples. You can always use the tried and true mantra “Because COVID;” we will understand and forgive you.

To summarize, the Law School did not have a fall break last year. We didn’t need it then, and we don’t need it now. If push comes to shove, we should once again trade fall break for apples as the perfect mental health solution.

---

editor@lawweekly.org

CARE: Careers in Child Advocacy Panel

Julia D’Rozario ‘24
Staff Editor

 

Last Tuesday, September 28, Child Advocacy Research and Education (CARE) hosted a career panel for those  interested in pursuing careers in child advocacy. The panel was moderated by Professor Crystal Shin, Director of the UVA Law Holistic Juvenile Defense Clinic, and featured three brilliant panelists: Michael Favale, Legislative and Policy Director at the Virginia Department of Juvenile Justice; Kate Duvall, President and CEO of Piedmont Court Appointed Special Advocates; and Amy Walters, Attorney at the Legal Aid Justice Center (LAJC) and Instructor in the UVA Law Youth Advocacy Clinic.

What does a career in child advocacy look like?

            What struck me most from the panel is how diverse child advocacy really is. Issues affecting children intersect with the most pressing issues affecting society today: racial justice, disability rights, education rights, and policing, to name just a few. The panelists, despite their varied areas of work, echoed the sentiment that there is no “typical day” at work. There is no one-size-fits-all description of child advocacy! It could be a personal client experience—working closely with individual families, or changing the life of a child in need in an abuse case. It could be policy work—participating in legislative processes, reviewing procedures and regulations to make change on a large scale. It could also be working for the state, for a nonprofit organization, or in education.

Why child advocacy?

            Despite the range of legal work and possible career paths available to those with an interest in child advocacy, one thing is clear: child advocacy is rewarding. Children are inherently vulnerable; advocating for them matters. The opportunity to be a voice for the vulnerable, and to connect with and be of service to the community was a source of motivation for all three panelists. As Mr. Favale eloquently put it, “the mission is helping the kids. I keep that as my North Star.”

What if I plan to work at a firm, but still want to get involved with child advocacy?

            Child advocacy work is certainly possible for students with plans to start their careers in a law firm and eventually transition into public interest. The panelists emphasized that your career trajectory doesn’t have to be linear, and that it is possible to transition into child advocacy from other areas of work. For all students interested in a career in child advocacy, especially students with plans to eventually move from a firm job to a child advocacy job, the panelists suggested showing your interest in child advocacy on your resume. Get involved—join clinics, volunteer, and get practical experience wherever possible.

            Even for students who plan to establish careers and remain in law firms, child advocacy work is within reach. You can do pro bono work within a law firm. LAJC, for example, often works with law firms  and has law firm attorneys taking on cases and serving as board members. You can volunteer as a lawyer, and even as a student; CASA has roughly 900 programs across the country, and accepts volunteers from all professional backgrounds and levels of experience. When applying for jobs, do your research! Ask about pro bono opportunities in firm interviews, and choose firms that align as much as possible with your desire to get involved with advocacy work.

            CARE is open to students with all levels of interest in child advocacy. Whether you want to pursue a career in the field or just want to learn more about how you can become a voice for children, CARE welcomes you!

 

To learn more about careers and volunteer opportunities in child advocacy, reach out to the panelists:

Kate Duvall, President and CEO of Piedmont CASA: kduvall@pcasa.org

Amy Walters, Attorney at LAJC and Instructor in the Youth Advocacy Clinic: amyw@justice4all.org

 ---

jkd2dd@virginia.edu

Social Dancin' in C-Ville

Nate Wunderli’ 22
Sports Editor


One of the first things I looked for when I came to Charlottesville was a dance club. My first-time social dancing was when I was 21, when a friend brought me to a country swing club. I had no clue what I was doing. I did one or two moves my friend taught me, then had to rely on my conversation skills to make up for my lack of moves. Still, I had a fun time, and met a bunch of new people despite my clumsiness on the dance floor.

            Fast forward a year, and I was hooked. Social dancing, while still a great outlet to meet people, became something I liked to do regardless of how many cute girls showed up that night. It started to become natural: the spacing, moving with the rhythm of the music, using momentum to my advantage to lead my partner. Instead of just doing moves I had committed to memory, I became able to improvise and come up with new moves on the fly, sometimes accidentally. It was creative, athletic, rhythmic, and a natural way to connect with friends and total strangers.

            Such was the inspiration for starting a dance night here in Charlottesville. As a 1L, I frequented a bar at IX Park near downtown and went Latin dancing regularly. It rarely attracted the student population, however, and paled in comparison to my undergrad where several hundred students would show up to dance every Thursday and Saturday. While my goal was to find a place willing to host on a weekend night, the forever reliable Crozet Pizza was kind enough to let me host a country swing dance night on a Wednesday.

            I was a little nervous that I would get there to teach the lessons beforehand and have nobody to teach, but fortunately by the time I arrived (10 minutes late due to detour traffic) there was already a sizable number of people ready and willing to dance. Lauren Johnson ’22 and I taught a few moves, and then let people do their thing. I took music requests, sometimes quite peculiar ones,[1] and continued to teach moves throughout the night to different groups. Big thanks to everyone that showed up, and remember, you’re never too old to learn how to dance!

---

nw7cz@virginia.edu

[1] Did not expect to play the EDM hit Purple Hat at a Country Swing party.

UVA Football Does Not Disappoint

Dana Lake ‘23
Production Editor


Disappointment, much like negligence, has several elements. For 1Ls preparing for their Torts midterms, a negligence claim requires both the establishment of a duty and a breach of that duty before you can get into causation and damages. Similarly, disappointment must have an established base expectation and then a breach of that expectation before your feelings can be hurt. My feelings were not hurt this last Friday at the UVA home football game against Wake Forest because I had zero expectations that the team could fail in meeting.

            To be clear, this is a ringing endorsement for home football games. The real joy of rooting for a team you know is going to lose is that there are only upsides. The game will probably play out just as you predict, with an early touchdown to give the people hope followed by a slog of sacks and penalties — but there is always the small chance you will be totally, wonderfully surprised. We were not surprised Friday night, but maybe we will be next time. Either way, the tickets are free and the stadium doesn’t even require a reservation. You really just show up and walk in. Scott Stadium is centrally located, within easy walking distance of both the Law School and the Corner. With a barrier to entry so low, even the most enthusiastic of pre-gamers can manage to last till halftime.

If you are the guy in the cowboy hat and Cubs jersey at this college football game please reach out to us. We want to know more about the decisons that led to this moment. Photo Courtesy of Dana Lake '23.

If you are the guy in the cowboy hat and Cubs jersey at this college football game please reach out to us. We want to know more about the decisons that led to this moment. Photo Courtesy of Dana Lake '23.

People who watch football (or any sport really) know a televised game is the superior way to watch if you want to know what is actually going on. With the TV comes announcers, and replays, and helpful lines drawn all over the field. What TV can’t capture is the feeling of being one in a thousand, all of you sharing for this one evening the same indulgent fondness for the hundreds of people who make these games possible. Beyond the players, coaches, and trainers are the band, the cheerleaders, the grounds crew — dozens of teams who go through the sincere effort to prepare the best show they can for you. While it is easy to dismiss a bad play at home as carelessness, in the stadium it is impossible to feel that way. These people care so much. When you’re there in person, they make you care too.

            Besides the UVA football traditions recently highlighted in our September 15 edition, there are many high points of a home game that can only be experienced in person. Those include watching unsupervised middle schoolers mill about in the student section with inebriated undergrads, but also the opportunity to stand for two hours on a steep grassy incline. If you grew up or went to school in the SEC, there is even a hauntingly familiar chopping motion the crowd occasionally breaks into. Going to a home game and wandering over to the Corner afterward is as much a Law School tradition as any of the others — you probably won’t need season tickets, but making it out to at least one game a season is worth it.

            Your next chance to join in a home game is October 16th for homecoming against Duke.

---

dl9uh@virginia.edu

Outdoors at UVA Law: Kayak Trip

Jonathan Peterson ‘23
Satire Editor & Photographer

 

This weekend, Outdoors at Virginia Law (OVAL) went on its first outing of the semester—a 7.5-mile kayaking/canoeing trip down the Jackson River. However, this trip was not without its challenges. In the middle of the week, the James River, the originally planned route, was blasted with about six inches of rain. Twin River Outfitters, the company who supplied the boats and paddles, deemed the route too unsafe to continue, and the trip looked doomed. However, thanks to the wonderful guidance and planning skills of John Schutte, ’22, one of OVAL’s trip coordinators, the outing was kept alive. In what I can only imagine was some of the best behind-closed-doors negotiating done in UVA Law history, Schutte came out on top, and the trip could continue. However, the change of location would prove too steep a challenge for two unnamed would-be attendees who arrived, perfectly on time, at the wrong river Saturday morning.[1]

            While the trials of this trip did not end here for some,[2] after this substantial hiccup, things moved forward without a hitch. All told, sixteen students attended the trip, resulting in fourteen kayaks and one canoe setting out just downstream of Moomaw Lake at around 11:45 a.m. Saturday. The trip began with a hurried, yet comprehensive, list of the dangers we might encounter on the river, only two of which stood out: strainers[3] and the paper mill. Strainers are trees which have fallen to create underwater obstacles which, in worst-case scenarios, can result in a drowned paddler. The paper mill is exactly what it sounds like: a paper mill. The only risk was missing our takeout point and eventually becoming both a case in a torts textbook, as well as the paper it was printed on. Luckily, neither obstacle posed any issue.The weather was chilly upon arrival, but the sun soon joined us on the trip. The temperature stayed pleasantly in the 70s—all-in-all it could not have been better weather. It was the first time on the water for one paddler; others were seasoned veterans, with some even paddling back upstream at times to get more of the sweet release from law school that the outdoors provides.

(Almost) All of the trip members assembled after a successful day on the river. Photo Courtesy of Jonathan Peterson '23.

(Almost) All of the trip members assembled after a successful day on the river. Photo Courtesy of Jonathan Peterson '23.

The stretch of river meandered through a forest, the name of which I do not know, which at times abutted private properties. The river was almost entirely empty—outside of our group we saw just two other boats, both fishing vessels, one of which contained a trip-member’s high school ex-boyfriend, which was a beautiful and natural occurrence. Generally, trees framed the outer edges of the river, however, at times, we were blessed with cliffs rising as high as two hundred feet above us, accompanied by intrusive thoughts of what it would be like to do a cannonball from the ridges into the river.[4] Unfortunately, wildlife was generally absent save some geese, ducks, and tiny snails I found on the bottom of a rock.

            The river itself was lovely. Relatively low water levels brought us a steady stream[5] of low-intensity rapids and, at times, butt massages,[6] which certainly kept things interesting. Longer, deeper channels left time for trip members to leisurely float, paddle backwards down the river, or for the less-mature among us, participate in some friendly boat-ramming. One particular rapid comes to mind. Situated on the outside bend of the river, five boats decided to tackle it at once, which resulted in my unfortunate kayak being pushed directly through a veritable river wave, dumping water into my boat, and leaving my underprepared self soaking wet and without a change of clothes.

            However, for this author, the highlight of the trip was a dog. Bojangles was hefty, inquisitive, talkative, and out of control. His owner was feeding bread to ducks on the side of the river—a relationship she has painstakingly developed over time. Bojangles, like his namesake, seems to love poultry. Barking and heaving himself to his feet, he waddled slowly down the river, with the owner’s young daughter instructed to not “let Bojangles get in the water and chase those ducks!” Bojangles, however, is not a lawful dog. Slowly and without grace, he descended into the stream to chase his lifelong foes. I was more worried about Bojangles’ safety than the ducks, as I was unsure if a dog of his great stature would be able to haul himself back out of the river. Unfortunately, it is unclear how this river drama ended, as we paddled onward, barks and cries of “Bojangles, NO!” faded into the distance behind us.

            All in all, the trip was a complete success. Everyone was safe, people smarter than me used sunscreen, and, as far as I know, all sixteen members avoided being turned into paper. Keep an eye out for pictures (and videos) from the trip—they will be posted on our Instagram page @uvaoval. And we hope to see all of you out on the next trip!

---

jtp4bw@virginia.edu

[1] Rest assured, they had a magical river/hike date together, which involved dogs, ten miles of walking, and a black snake ominously backing into the hollow of a tree. We missed them dearly.

[2] This was more of a personal issue, however. Let’s just say a trip to Boylan after Friday’s game left OVAL’s president running a little late to the D3 parking lot and severely lacking in preparation Saturday morning.

[3] Upon spotting a strainer, the author of this article exclaimed “strainer? I hardly know ‘er!” Clearly, I inspire confidence on the river.

[4] Certain death.

[5] In case this pun is missed I’m pointing it out. Pun intended.

[6] From rocks scraping the bottoms of kayaks in low water.

A Lost Generation of Alumni

Michael Berdan ‘22
Opinions Editor

 

I have never been school-spirited. In high school, I never identified as a Viking. In college, I never wore Cougar regalia or learned the fight songs. When I was admitted to UVA Law, though, I felt different. I chose UVA Law for a number of reasons, but one major one was the culture and purported ethos of the school. The Honor Code, the generosity and openness of students toward applicants, and the enthusiasm of the alumni made an impression on me. So, immediately after being admitted, I bought shirts for myself, my wife, my two kids, and my parents. Even my in-laws now own UVA Law apparel. I spoke effusively about the school online during 1L, spoke on student life panels for admits and applicants during 2L, and applied to be an ambassador. I will practice in Richmond after graduation, and I was excited to return to Charlottesville over the coming years for events and fundraisers at the Law School, and to donate regularly to support future students and endeavors on North Grounds. Notice, however, that I speak of these feelings in past tense. It appears many others do, too.

The pandemic has sent spider-web cracks through so many aspects of our lives that we will still be finding them years from now. The development of children (and adults) has been shaken in ways that will be studied for decades. Personal, academic, and professional lives have changed course in many ways, some transformative, some imperceptible. It is well understood that none of us got the full law school experience we envisioned as 0Ls, and that is okay, because it was unavoidable. But that has consequences. The connection that students typically form to UVA Law during their three years here appears not to have happened as readily or as deeply for many among the Zoom School of Law generation.

One would expect the administration to be on high alert about this, and to be proactive and accommodating toward students in order to nurture that trust and connection in the hope that it will last beyond graduation. So far, that hasn’t happened, and the administration’s handling of COVID-19 protocol this year has further alienated students. “I was really enthusiastic about the school,” says Melissa Privette ’22, “but that enthusiasm has waned after they made the decision not to have virtual options this year. It seems as if students’ comfort hasn’t been prioritized. Given their response this year, I don’t see myself being a very engaged or active alumna.”

Nick Turnier ’22 says he feels “like the school is doing things at us, not with us. The administration’s response whenever we want something is that it’s beyond their control, but not once have I felt them say, ‘but we’ll advocate for that for you.’” Turnier noted that “at least as a 1L, I felt like if something important came up they might at least listen in earnest,” but he cited the administration’s response to Lambda’s request for inclusive bathrooms as a negative turning point for him. Ultimately, he said, “they had a really good chance with this pandemic to make us feel like they really had our backs, but they completely blew it.” Turnier also says he will not be donating to the school as an alumnus.

Other students still retain a love for our school, even through frustration. “I’m still passionate about UVA, but the administration's handling of COVID, specifically in not giving us a remote attendance option, has lessened that passion," comments Kevin Schascheck ’22. He says that consequently, he expects any donations he makes to the Law School will be directed only toward particular groups, such as Lambda, rather than to more general Law School fundraising channels. Kiera Callahan ’22, who is President of Advocates for Disability Rights, says she has had “fabulous academic experiences at UVA,” but has been disappointed by the administration’s handling of COVID-19, particularly the delays relative to other schools and the lack of transparency. The “snide remarks from a subset of the student population about those who were vulnerable” further inhibited Callahan’s bond with the school, and she notes that all these experiences will affect how she views the school when she joins the alumni.

Our school prides itself on an active, vigorous, and loyal alumni base, which supposedly donates at higher rates than that of other schools. That alumni base is kept healthy by satisfied and connected students graduating year after year. But the COVID-affected classes—2022 in particular—did not have the same chance to form such connections, and many members are not on track to depart from North Grounds as fully satisfied graduates. When the fundraising calls from the Law School Foundation start coming soon after graduation, the answer from many students will be identical to the answers the administration gave in response to requests for remote attendance flexibility, Law-School specific COVID-19 data, or a clear attendance policy: “No.”

---

mwb4pk@virginia.edu