I intended to start this post with a snarky generalization about what each class is doing that prevents them from blogging. Then I realized: what do I call the 2Ls? Are they officially 3Ls? Does labeling them 3Ls mean I’ll have to accept the fact that I’ve now graduated and, as such, am no longer an apropos* contributor to the “Iowa Law Student Blog?” Well, damnit, Wieland hasn’t shut off my account; and because I enjoy avoiding the eventuality of life, we’ll leave that identity crisis for another day.

Dear Iowa Law students: you’ll always be 1Ls and 2Ls to me. And while that may sound like a pejorative statement, I assure you it’s not. I mean it affectionately, in the sense that the way in which I met you will stick with me. Because, when you’re supposed to be studying for the bar exam, you’ll look back fondly on your law school days. I know how it feels to be a 1L and have no idea what you’re expected to know, much less how to pen the answers to five essays in under three hours. To figure out what portions, of the 35 cases you were assigned on any given night, are important. As a 2L: to crank out a journal note in time for deadline. To finish a primary edit while simultaneously outlining for a closed-book exam. To face the realization that both your moot court brief and journal note are due on the same day, giving rise to the rebuttable presumption that one of the two will suck. So, which one should it be? Which endeavor should you throw under the bus for the other?

This is the dilemma faced by almost all law students: try to do well at everything; or focus your attention on one particular endeavor and attempt to be the best. It’s a crap shoot, and at some point you toss your cards in the air and hope when they land, you’ve got a full house.

Not unlike, as I’m finding, studying for the bar exam.

A facebook friend said it best (FACEBOOK!), when his status read: “[] is studying for 14 finals,” or something to that effect. I actually think that was a generous statement - the IL bar has 24 subjects we must memorize and be ready to recapitulate at a moment’s notice. Think about that: 24 areas of law, with a mere two months to memorize them. The “short” version of the required material is over 500 pages. The rest of the states are similar in their requirements. Sure, we’ve learned many of the basic concepts from class - but memorizing the prongs for every imaginable situation is an entirely different task. I’m sure any law student could say a contract must have consideration to be valid; but how many can prattle off the various requirements to fall under an exception to the holder-in-due-course rule? If you can, without the assistance of google, boldly recite the words that distinguish a fee simple determinable from a fee simple subject to condition precedent; perhaps now is the time to take one step forward. Listen, I love property law. It is my jam. And it still took me two full days to get through the material I need to know for the bar exam. Imagine how long it took me to get through secured transactions and federal taxation. Any area of law that invokes the term “security interest” pretty much makes me want to cry. It was a hot, sloppy mess, but damnit, I got through it.

Anyway, it all got me thinking about the notion that, given the career we’ve chosen, maybe we’re never comfortable. Every insurmountable task I faced in law school was followed by another task that made the prior challenge look like child’s play. It’s the reason why 2Ls tell 1Ls: “Just wait until 2L year”; and the reason why 3Ls tell 2Ls: “I WISH all I had to do was write a journal note and find a summer job.” It’s the reason why a fair majority of the 3Ls opined last semester: “Why is this the most stressful semester I’ve ever had? Shouldn’t I be relaxing because we’re done?!”

At the time, I thought the tendency to self-aggrandize was myopic, a product of The Law Student’s tendency to always feel as though we work harder than everyone else, including our peers. But I’m no longer certain that’s true. If it is, it would lend credence to the notion that a certain type of “person” goes to law school. I used to subscribe to that belief; but I no longer feel that’s accurate. Yes, there are a lot of “alphas” in law school. There are a lot of people who enjoyed being the most intelligent of their peers, and for many, it’s a shock to come to law school and find yourself clawing your way to the top (and ending up, despite your efforts, sitting despondently at the median). Studying for the bar has caused me to wonder if there isn’t some chaotic method to it all: the notion that you will never know what the court, or the client, or the partner has come to throw upon you. Perhaps it will be an area you know, and know well; you will look over the file and know in a matter of moments how you’ll respond. But perhaps not. You might have three days to learn all there is to know. To become an expert - or least not a certifiable idiot - in that particular area of law. You won’t think you can do it, but you will. You will get it done.

Perhaps it’s not the precise challenge that lies before you; easier than the last. Maybe it’s just a test of how you withstand the pressure. Can you still produce? Can you still take your little yellow and red legos and build something?

God knows, if you survived 2L year, you can make it through anything.

*”Apropos” is not an adjective, but it should be. Because I said so.

This was an effective procrastination tool. Now, back to bar prep.

Tim and I went on the same walk we did last night. These pictures are somewhat clearer, since it’s light out and I brought an actual camera, and you can see that the river is higher than last night. Point of reference: we went for our walk at 8:30 last night, and we went today at noon.

Also, we got stopped on the Benton Street bridge for man-on-the-street interviews with some news station, so if you see us on TV, please note that the reporter’s questions were pretty stupid. In retrospect, I wish I had answered the question, “Do you think Iowa City will split into two towns?” with, “Yes, and I will fight for the WEST!” or something equally Dwight Schrute-esque. Anyway.

Riverside Drive.

Riverside Drive, from the other side.

Benton Street bridge, looking north.

Again.

East end of the Benton Street bridge.

Capitol Street and Benton Street.

City Carton Recycling.

Bike trail.

Kind of a bad picture, but if you look, you can see that the water in background is up to the front door of Panchero’s.

After we had crossed the bridge, we notice two engineers monitoring the bridge.  Some other pedestrian stopped to ask about the condition of the bridge.  The engineers said that it would be closed down soon, probably, because there was a lot of creaking going on because the water was so high.

Tim and I walked down Benton across Riverside and the river to gawk at the floods. Here are some pictures, for those of you curious. (I apologize for the quality. I didn’t think to bring my actual camera, so these are from my phone.) Click to enlarge.

Earlier this morning, looking north from the fourth floor lounge balcony.

Another view. More pictures after the jump…

On the Benton Street bridge, looking north.

On the east end of the Benton Street Bridge.

East end of the Benton Street Bridge.

City Carton Recycling on Benton.

East side of the Benton Street bridge looking west. Sign says “Caution: Water on Trail.” Seriously?

On the Benton Street bridge, facing south.

24-hour McDonald’s at Benton and Riverside, closed and sandbagged.

Looking south on Riverside from Benton.

Gas station at Benton and Riverside.

They’re closed, in case the sandbags didn’t tell you.

Twin Image on Benton.

On a lighter note, Buckley the cat, enjoying our contingency plan in case the fridge goes out.

As I’m sure most of you have heard (if anyone’s still checking in here over the summer), Iowa City is experiencing some really horrible flooding right now.  I’m not going to go into scientific details; check any other Iowa-related website if you want to know accurate facts or river levels or flood plain maps.

Tim and I are working in the clinic this summer, so we reported for duty as usual this morning.  The BLB is pretty quiet in the summer, but this morning was even more quiet than usual.  Tim went to a meeting, I sat in my carrel getting some things out in the mail that needed to be sent.  We arrived around 8:45, and by 10:30 we were leaving.  Rumors came up that the Burlington Street bridge would be closing, then we all read the University flood blog which announced that everything would be closed for a week effective tomorrow.  Everyone remained fairly calm (though there was a little bit of urgency in the air) while we called our clients to reschedule meetings or cancel appointments.  

The canteen never opened; instead, they left a few sad-looking salads and pieces of fruit out in the cooler with a sign that said “FREE” on it.

The BLB is on fairly high ground and probably not vulnerable to flood damage.  I overheard snippets of conversation between faculty members; apparently, they are concerned about utilities going out in our building.

So, we left the clinic, went to the store and stocked up on water, flashlights, and candles.  As of right now, we still have power and everything, but better safe than sorry.  I went out to the Johnson County Fairgrounds to help at the emergency location of the animal shelter, but didn’t stay long as someone bringing in a donation announced that Riverside was going to be closed soon.  (On my way there, Riverside between Benton and Highway 6 was closed, so I had to go around.  Past the Arby’s, it was down to one lane with 2-3 inches of water on it.)

I’m hoping I’ll be able to get out there to help again soon, but for now I’m staying out of the way and off the roads.  Anyway, I hope everyone in Iowa City (and Cedar Rapids, and Des Moines, and everywhere else) is staying safe and dry.

The Real World beckons me with its dark and illustrious wings. I try to fight it, but its power is too great; my resistance is useless. It is time for me to go forth into the night.

My resistance is rendered ever more futile given the fact that I’m not technically a student anymore. The nefarious Powers That Be refuse to certify additional loans on my behalf. Alas, I cannot haunt the halls of the BLB any longer.

It’s time to take the bar, enter repayment, and most depressingly: act my age. But here are some parting thoughts:

Things I Will Miss About Law School (part I of an ongoing, non-exclusive list):

1. The Multicultural House. You don’t have to be friends with the boys at the Multi-C; or even have ever partied there; to appreciate what the Multi-C represents. While Iowa City knows this house merely by its geographical coordinates, somewhere along the line the rental unit was deemed the “the Multicultural House” in coy reference to both the racial diversity of its inhabitants (a Filipino, an African American, and a Caucasian); as well as the need of graduate and professional programs to define people along racial lines.

Without entering into a treatise about the implications of race for those entering the legal field; I will say this: the choice to have your race acknowledged as a defining characteristic of your identity should be left to that individual. I believe that should be the ultimate goal of diversity initiatives: not to require individuals to identify themselves in that manner; but rather, to honor and encourage the perspectives that different life experiences bring to the table. I have learned from my friends that often a ‘non-white’ (for lack of a more articulate expression) individual’s life experience is impacted by their race, much the same way that my life experience has been shaped by being both white and female. We should recognize the richness these life experiences adds to the discussion, without ever requiring an individual to feel pigeon-holed by which box they mark on the application.

That is all I have to say about that; mostly because I lack the interest or qualifications to say more. Well, at least in this forum.

But I digress. The Multi-C represents a group of guys who take life, but not themselves, seriously. And on those times that they do take themselves too seriously—well, we’re law students. If you are a law student who has never fallen prey to the tinges of self-indulgence, perhaps now is the time to take one step forward.

The Multi-C is always open for business. Day and night. Just this evening, I went to retrieve a bottle of whiskey I’d left during the graduation celebration. Walk right in; grab the whiskey; holler at the guys for a minute; move along. This communal atmosphere illustrates the aspect of Iowa Law that I’ve come to know and love.

Some of us are black; some of us are white; some of us are men; some of us are women. Some are older; some younger. Some of us are from metropolitan areas; some of us are from small, podunk towns with 300 residents. Some of us are conservative; some of us are liberal. Some of us dream of politics; some dream of corporate firms and million-dollar mergers; some dream of prosecuting felons; some dream of academia. Many of us fall into the shades of grey between all the categories by which society would like to define us. But at the end of the day, we’re all in this together.

Think that’s common to every law school? Think again. In fact, up-and-coming 3Ls, ask your co-workers this summer. And up-and-coming 2Ls: wait a year, and ask your co-workers next summer.

Ask them if they are accustomed to 3Ls sending them outlines. Ask them if a 2L or 3L has ever offered to teach them how to bluebook. Ask them if they’ve ever been to a law school party with more than 30 people. Ask them if the library is not quiet enough to study because people are too busy chatting outside their carrels. Ask them if they have a professor who memorizes the names and faces of every single student in his class of 90+, just to personalize the law school experience. Ask them if they’re comfortable asking a fellow student to read over their seminar paper for grammatical errors. Ask them if they felt free to request input on the topic for their Law Review note from their peers. Ask them if they have ever received class notes from someone, unsolicited, merely because someone noticed they’d been absent that day.

Go ahead, ask them.

Now, just for kicks, ask the attorneys you know if it’s their superiors; or rather, their peers on whom they rely most. Experiences will vary; but absent the partner-mentor, I think you’ll find that attorneys look to their peers the most for guidance. It’s not the head of Commercial Litigation who helped the 1st-year associate with that perplexing question about piercing the corporate veil of an limited liability company; but rather, the 3rd-year associate who completed a similar assignment a year ago.

I’ve met many law students from schools all across this country. Top tier schools, lower-tier schools—it doesn’t seem to matter much. I have yet to meet a single student who can convey the sense of community that Iowa Law creates. Maybe it’s the students, maybe it’s the faculty, maybe it’s the administration. I don’t pretend to know the proper ingredients. I only know that we are different. Perhaps we are not the only ones, but we are unique.

And when USNWR includes a ‘community index,’ perhaps I’ll pay attention to their rankings.

I get the feeling that most law students are closeted voracious readers. Why else would we willingly consume several thousands of pages of dry casebooks without pictures? So, one of the first things I’ve done with my summer is read a book that I’ve been wanting to get to for awhile. First off, in the interest of full disclosure, this is going to be probably a little biased and a little fangirly. I was introduced to Dan Savage several years ago when I worked on a project his brother (a professor) as an undergraduate. He writes a most excellent, and entertaining, sex column (linked supra), records an equally entertaining podcast weekly (download it free from iTunes), and has written several books. I’m a big fan.

The book I just finished, The Commitment: Love, Sex, Marriage, and My Family, is his most recent work.

The book focuses on Savage’s upcoming ten-year anniversary with his boyfriend, Terry, and their struggle to figure out how to commemorate the occasion. Along the way, the couple’s son, and Savage’s quirky but supportive family weigh in on the marriage-or-not issue. The couple’s story is interspersed with commentary on the larger gay marriage debate in America. The book is not (and never claims to be) a fair and balanced representation of both sides of the issue. The style is conversational, and admittedly sometimes even veers towards crazy liberal ranting. But Savage presents gay marriage (and gay adoption, and marriage in general, and family relationships in general) in a way that (to me, at least) seamlessly reconciles the conservative pro-family rhetoric with the argument for full marriage rights for same-sex couples.

I’m no expert book reviewer, and even though I’m a liberal I don’t usually go around yelling it from the rooftops. (I’m 24, and I still don’t know whether my mother is red or blue because politics is a personal matter in our family, thankyouverymuch.) But I feel compelled to blog about this because this is an issue that we will be lawyering in the years to come, and this book sets out exactly what’s at stake. It’s not just Goodridge and Hernandez on paper after reading this book; it’s Dan and Terry and D.J. and their dog Stinker. So, I wholeheartedly recommend this book, and if anyone wants to borrow it, I’m in Iowa City and willing to lend you my copy.

I almost forgot how much I hate Starbucks coffee. With a three-hour layover, I camped out at the very centrally located Dunkin Donuts in Terminal 3 and finally took the time to think about why Chicago O’Hare is one of my favorite places in our little corner of the world. Maybe my perception is a bit skewed since, for the first time in recent memory, I do not have to read a casebook or work on a write-on packet at the gate. Us Weekly, how I’ve missed you…but it’s so difficult to focus on Jamie Lynn’s baby shower when there are such ample opportunities for people watching…Not the usual fashion police duties (so unfair in an airport), but other activities like “Guess the Regional Accent” or “Make Friends with Boys in Army Camo.” Fill the last hour with a few paces down the concourse for exercise, until you smell Cinnabon and then promptly 180 (bikini season!). Here’s to you O’Hare, where the restrooms are a little cleaner and the recorded voice on the intercom is a little bit peppier. It’s been real.

And to the 3Ls: congrats on graduation. Here’s hoping you’re done with academia…but not with the Field House. To the rising 3Ls: congrats on making it this far. It will be fun to actually go to Law Night again. And to the new 2Ls: good luck with write-on! And fair winds and following seas for 2L year in general. She’s a cruel mistress. To everyone: safe travels this summer, wherever they take you.

While others were studying for finals, completing seminar papers, or finishing up office hours for the semester last Thursday, I was on a field trip with my mom’s second grade class in beautiful Peoria, Illinois (AKA greatest civilization known to mankind). We visited a dairy farm in rural Peoria County and witnessed the incredible amount of work that goes into providing our nation’s milk supply. Below are some random musings from the fieldtrip.

Aldo Leopold, author of “A Sand County Almanac” and widely considered the greatest American conservation writer to ever live, once wrote, “There are two spiritual dangers in not owning a farm. One is the danger of supposing breakfast comes from the grocery, and the other that heat comes from the furnace.” One of these dangers was on display as the farmer asked the kids where milk came from, and one of the children promptly responded, “the grocery store.”

To some children, the sight of a cat is much more interesting than that of a baby sheep, chickens, horses, or cows. Throughout the two hours we spent on the farm, several cats wandered around nearby. For around a half dozen kids, these felines must have been much more exotic than the myriad farm animals, as these children did not pay attention to one word the farmer said.

I’m going to interchange the terminology on a whim, but for the record: a baby bovine is a calf; a male bovine is a bull; a female bovine that has not given birth is a heifer; and a female bovine that has given birth is a cow. After giving birth, a cow can give milk for around 10 months, and must then become pregnant again. Once the cows are incapable of providing milk (usually after around 12 years), they are sold to businesses like McDonald’s for use as hamburger meat.

Milk cows are HUGE – each weighing around one ton, and each requiring 75 pounds of food daily. I once visited a mega hog farm and slaughter house in Beardstown, Illinois, and was surprised the pigs weighed 260 pounds each. I suppose using Babe the pig and that heifer from Rocko’s Modern Life as frames of reference was not very helpful.

Calves are HUGE too. Several calves were born around a week before the fieldtrip, and they were all bigger than the biggest full grown dog I’ve ever seen. Another interesting tidbit is that cows only have teeth on the bottom of their mouths. Because of this lack of upper teeth, you can stick your fingers in a calf’s mouth without getting them chomped off, and the calf will suck on the fingers in a vain attempt for milk. I goaded most of the kids into trying this, and of course they all ran around seemingly shocked that calf slobber got on their hands in the process.

The owners of the farm we visited work a ridiculous number of hours. They milk the cows every day at 5:00 AM and 5:00 PM. In addition, they feed the cows, shovel manure, feed the sheep, feed and groom the horses, feed the chickens, collect chicken eggs, mow acres of grass, raise children, and attend to everything else in life. As a result of all this required work, these people can never go on vacation or leave the farm even for a couple days. That’s dedication, and thank God they do the work because I don’t think many of us would be willing to accept the rigors of this lifestyle.

Last year, the University of Iowa Student Government split into two new and separate student governments: the undergraduates (UISG) and the graduate/professional students (ECGPS).  This means that now all of the student governments for each graduate school (such as Law, Dentistry, Medical, Graduate College, etc.) report to the ECGPS.  This covers all 9,000 graduate and professional students at the University.

The split, however, isn’t finished yet.  ECGPS is designing a process for allocating money to graduate and professional student organizations, and this includes all of the student organizations at the law school.  Nothing is final yet, but it appears that ECGPS will have a budget of around $150,000 per year.  In addition, ECGPS will need committed students to coordinate events across all the graduate schools.

In short, we need people to run this thing. 

There are three ad hoc committees officially opening up on the ECGPS.  Each one needs a chairperson, and the chair of each committee needs to be competent, energetic and ready to invest some time in building a student government from the ground up.  The goal is to turn each committee into a permanent body with its own set of bylaws, budget and possibly office space:

• Finance Committee - This committee will handle the roughly $150,000 ECGPS budget.  This will involve appropriating money to all the student organizations such as ISBA, EJF, OWLs, ISBA, and all similar groups and student councils at all the other graduate colleges.  We will work with this person to design budgeting rules and procedures from the ground up.  This is especially suitable for people interested in business or corporate law.
• Civic Engagement - This will require someone interested in coordinating philanthropy across the graduate and professional schools.  This would be the most open-ended job since nobody has every attempted to do this before.  Preferably, someone going into public interest careers will fill this position.  I think a law student would be especially suitable for this one, since our line of work puts us in a position to help a lot of people.  Also, the law school has invested heavily in community service over the past couple of years.
• Public Relations - This person will reach out to graduate and professional students.  Few students even know that they have a University student government, so we need someone to plan events, spread resources around, and oversee the website.  No technical web knowledge is necessary, as ECGPS has budgeted to pay for someone to actually build the site.  Preferably someone who can comfortably represent ECGPS to the public and to the press will fill this position.

If you want to get involved, you only need to be a graduate or professional student at the University of Iowa in good academic standing.  E-mail me at: steven-wieland@uiowa.edu.

“North Carolina’s ram mascot – Rameses XVII, who was 8 – died from wounds he received after he was head-butted by another ram. The other ram? His son Pablo, who is 3. Infection set in after Rameses had a horn broken off in the collision. Pablo now takes on the name Rameses XVIII and succeeds his father as the Tar Heels’ mascot.” Per Rivals. Kill your father, get his title. Truly chilling. No word on whether Pablo/Rameses XVIII then went after his mother in one way or another.

As I’d mentioned somewhere in a comment recently, the Iowa legislature caught the University off-guard by passing the smoking ban and making it effective a year ahead of when the University was planning to implement the same rule.  University administrators had wanted to fire up some programs to  help staff and students to kick the habit between now and then and to take a little longer working out how to enforce the smoking ban.  Fortunately, some of the programs are available now.  In case you didn’t read it, here’s an exerpt from an administration e-mail:

The UI offers a number of resources for faculty, staff and students who want to quit smoking.  For staff and faculty, UI Wellness offers smoking cessation services and reimbursement of up to $300 for nicotine replacement or prescription drugs to aid people in stopping smoking.  For students who smoke or chew tobacco, Health Iowa offers a free tobacco cessation program that includes counseling and access to various therapy products.

The ban kicks in this summer.  In related news, finals are ALMOST OVER!

I’ve noticed that since starting law school, I’ve laughed significantly less than I used to. I’m sure it’s attributable to many things, namely that the law isn’t inherently funny, and that for some, law school is the most miserable time of their lives, but in any case, I like laughing. And I don’t do enough of it.

Plus, if laughter really is the best medicine, maybe we’d all be a bit less cynical and argumentative if we enjoyed some good, hearty chuckles on a regular basis. But I often wonder if the genuine honesty of laughter and the cynicism of being a law student can be reconciled.

Last semester, amidst the pain and torture of writing my final draft of an appellate brief for LAWR II, I received an e-card from my dear friend, fsford. I was expecting it to be all “keep working hard, the pain is almost over, blah blah blah.” It was not.

When work feels overwhelming, remember that you’re going to die.

Well. How’s that for optimism? I loved it. I laughed so hard I could barely contain myself [in class, of course].

Curious about the source of such tongue-in-cheek humor, I clicked on the homepage, and discovered a zillion more e-cards, with similar but varying degrees of cynical humor. “I need a time billing code for not doing s***.” “I couldn’t get through Mondays without knowing you’re equally miserable.” “My true love is out there and they can go f*** themselves.” “You’re going to be a great MILF.” “If I ever were to shoot you, it would just be in the leg.”

At this point, I was noticeably giggling. In the middle of class. So I trolled the site and sent an e-card to almost everyone I knew. My parents received “I really doubt you’d understand my homework” and “Thanks for always thinking about me to the detriment of your own mental health.” My college friends got “Anytime you want to talk, feel free to leave me a voicemail message.” My friends with ridiculous love life woes received “I’m falling in love with you and would like to go on a second date.” You get the idea.

If I were to make a website that embodied my personality, it would be this one. Every thought I’ve ever had but either had to refrain from verbalizing or could only repeat to my closest friends (as to avoid judgment) is perfectly laid out via e-card, available for communication with the click of a button. Incredible.

(Alright, not every thought. Some of the e-cards are a bit inappropriate for my proper Iowa girl upbringing. But I bet someone out there feels comfortable enough with someone in his or her life to send a note to say “you never pee on me anymore.”)

I have someecards.com in my toolbar and I check it every day. And I laugh. Out loud. Every day. So if you need some tongue-in-cheek, pick-you-up-from-finals-depression humor, try this on for size. You might find yourself laughing a lot more than usual … maybe eventually sending “I only communicate via someecards.com” to someone.

“Remember that Cinco de Mayo is an important celebration for Mexicans everywhere except almost all of Mexico.”

I know we all have finals-addled brains right now, so here’s a helpful reminder: Mother’s Day is a week from tomorrow, May 11.  This gives you plenty of time to schedule a quick trip to Hallmark to pick up a card between Capanna and House of Aromas, address and mail the card, and have it arrive on time.  Even if you’re all anti-establishment and think it’s a stupid commercialized holiday, your mom probably doesn’t.  No money?  Send a free e-card.  (Bonus: since they’re free, you can also send them to grandmas, aunts, motherly neighbors, sorority pledge moms, single fathers who function as both mothers and fathers, pregnant friends, et cetera.)  See?  No excuses.  

I have a friend that is a Senior in High School and tonight is his Senior Prom. When most of us think of our High School Prom we think of good or funny things - - Like the blue tux that your friend wore, the crazy night you had with your friends out until 5am, or that special kiss you stole at the end of the night. My friend, unfortunately, will not have these fond memories (Believe it or not this post is law related) because of a few strict administrators at Neuqua Valley High School and a contract the school had with the Banquet Hall chosen for the night, Drury Lane in Oakbrook Terrace, Illinois.

So my friend’s group rented their Tuxes, the Limousine, the trip to Geneva the next day all planned out, just one thing missing, the tickets. The deadline for buying tickets was Wednesday. Every male in the group got their tickets on time except one, he forgot until Thursday morning. He went to buy them on Thursday thinking no big, really only 12 hours late, and they denied him the opportunity to purchase tickets to his High School Prom. The Administrators served my friend with, what Aurthur Bonfield likes to call, “The Writ of Tough Bananas.” To my understanding because of security concerns the school had to submit an approved list of attendees to the venue and if they changed that list it would create a breach of contract resulting in a set fee of somewhere around $500. My friend’s group doesn’t know what to do, how can they go without two of their friends?

How many times has something important gone way off your radar? As law students we like to think not many, but we’re human just like everyone else. Just the other day I accidentally forgot about a meeting and it was a well needed reminder during finals time that I am indeed NOT a robot. Regardless of our margin of human error, yeah, the kid screwed up, big time. Still, this won’t be one of those screw ups he’ll be likely to forget.

One of the things I’ve come to learn repeatedly here in law school is that there is a notion of justice and equity that runs through all disciplines of the law. Sometimes cases are decided in a way that makes them entirely inconsistent with the law, many times because it is just or equitable to go against the principals in a specific case. To law students preparing for finals, these cases drive us mad, but during the semester it’s a different story - to decide these cases consistent with the law feels wrong, like justice is not being served. This seems to be the case for my friend. It just doesn’t feel right to disallow a high school senior entry into his prom- separate him from the community he has striven to be a part of for four years. If he came to the door expecting to get in without a ticket and no complaints prior, this would be a different story, but with several days advance warning? This is just one of those cases that doesn’t sit right in my stomach.

The latest University of Iowa Governmental End of Session Summary is out, and it’s got some good news for students.

First, as a left-wing socialist nutjob, I’m happy to see that the Board of Regents is getting $41 million to hand out in teacher salary increases.  This is part of a larger appropriation for teacher increases at all education levels across the state.  Faculty salaries are a huge obstacle to attracting top-notch scholars and keeping reputation up.  In total, the University of Iowa will receive $258 million from Des Moines. 

Second, the state legislature has passed  a bill recommending that state universities publicize course material lists so that students can shop around for better textbook prices:

In order to promote consumer choice and lower the costs of textbooks in higher education, the general assembly intends that students enrolled in institutions of higher learning have access to appropriate textbook information prior to the start of classes, with adequate time to pursue alternative purchase avenues.

It goes on to recommend that the school post this information near campus bookstores and online, complete with ISBNs for easy comparison shopping.  It looks like the bill is just waiting for Governor Culver’s signature at the moment.

Third, public employees have more power to bargain with the state via a collective bargaining board.  Before, the scope of this body’s ability to negotiate was limited to certain enumerated topics, now nearly everything is on the table.  The act permits the board to negotiatiate ”Other terms and conditions of employment except” for a short list of items.