Where’s The Beef (on Rye)?

By James Lingwood (3L)
The economic meltdown has affected many people in different ways, but I think it is high time for someone to address the unique pains that law students have suffered as a result of the labourer’s attempt to purchase the American dream on credit.

Now I know others have tried to articulate what the downturn has meant for us: Pedantic stories of failed interviews for articles and summer positions are rife in our community; the LL.B. vs. J.D. debate sites the need to peddle our degrees in the U.S. market; debate and frustration over increased tuition and reduced course selection ring in my ears. All of these arguments, coupled with the fact that an absence of inflation has left our student debt-load free from depreciation, fail to hit on the true impact to the law student at U of A.

The true, and until now largely ignored, problem is the absence of free sandwiches. As I sit here, eating a radish dug up from my crisper, I reflect upon the earthly and spiritual satisfaction that a free sandwich can bring into the life of a student.

Arriving in 1st year was an unsettling experience. Unsure how to behave, I aspired to make the most of my education by attending the first guest lecture of the year. Arriving out of a sense of duty rather than interest I was greeted by the most affirming experience of my student life. Behold law student! Your choice of egg-salad, tuna, veggie, or beef awaits! It was magnificent, it was free and it was unasked for. In short, it was conceit in the form of sugar, carbs and protein.

It was at that moment that I knew I was a success. I was a soon-to-be-lawyer. I knew what it meant to bask in the opulence of my own status. No longer was I another of the unwashed masses. I had arrived.
This opinion of myself and my status was continually affirmed by the arrival of free food throughout the year – regardless of whether I even attended a lecture. Platters of vegetables, sandwiches and drinks arrived by servers and forces unseen. The gravy train made its destination the Gavel lounge at least once a week and to a starving student it was better than a leather chair, a cigar and a glass of sherry.

However, as we all know, this was not to be. The remains of my now finished radish stand as a poignant reminder of what we have lost.

But it is not for myself that I feel the most pain, for I have savoured the taste of unearned success. It is for the next generation that we must truly express our concern. The 1Ls have as much right to a serving of superiority in as any of us had and it is wrong to deny them such.

U of A, in all of your concern with deficits and budget constraints you’ve lost the values we all cherish. Think of the children. Bring back our victory platters.