THE WELDON TIMES

Amber flashes rhythmically pulse as feet shuffle across a freshly painted crosswalk. Frigid air reaches through autumn jackets with piercing cold. Exhaust pours out into the street, bathed in red as brake mechanisms hold back the orderly lines of 3,500 lb metal machines. Looking to the stars, surely something – someone – in the universe is looking back.

I’m tired. Physically, emotionally, socially – tired. Tired is an understatement; I’m certifiably exhausted. At Schulich, I’ve developed an interesting quirk when it comes to stress: I don’t sleep. Other people can turn off their minds, and savour those coveted six to eight hours of unadulterated relaxation, while I lie in my bed, watching the clock as the seconds tick to minutes and minutes to hours.

For every particle, there exists a corresponding, mirrored antiparticle with the opposite quality and charge. Similarly, justice and injustice are binary moral notions: being “morally correct” implies a lack of moral culpability.

Among law students, or at least the people at Schulich that I study with, booking a basement library room is never just about studying. It always starts that way: textbooks out, laptops plugged into the nearest outlet, and someone suggesting that we "Lock in for the next four hours." Within five minutes, someone’s asking what the new Crumbl cookie lineup is this week.

Climate change, and humanity’s lack of preparation for it, is akin to the explosive release of energy when matter and antimatter meet. Though vital to the fabric of our universe, antimatter is volatile. When volatile forces meet inadequate systems, the result is disaster. Flooding, hurricanes, tornadoes, snowfalls, and wildfires are growing in intensity and frequency. When governments fail to adequately plan for these events, communities are left to fill in the gaps.

I remember the first time I spoke to a lawyer in my chosen area of practice; she referred to law school as being “the worst – everyone is competing with everyone else from Day 1." I walked into Weldon cautiously guarded, wondering if the stories I’d heard about textbooks being hidden in the stacks to prevent other students from accessing them and erroneous CANs being published intentionally were true.

In law school, coffee is more than a drink. It shapes our daily routine, particularly during exam seasons. The long morning lines and tables buzzing with laptops and casebooks at nearby cafés have become a familiar sight. Based on a small survey of 1L Schulich students, 73% of respondents drink coffee, and the majority (85%) consume no more than two cups per day. Affecting nearly three in four of our peers, coffee drinking is a common habit.

Dal, why are you locking out the DFA; refusing to negotiate with your unions; ignoring student needs and interests; claiming to have a deficit despite your massive ‘surpluses’? It would be funny to watch you stumble this hard if my future weren’t dependent on your success. So, let’s talk, for real, about what it means to be the first research-intensive university in Canada to lock out full-time faculty.

This piece was submitted anonymously as a handwritten letter, though the law school soon came to know the author colloquially as the "Saint." After deliberation, Doug Shatford moved forward with its first publication in volume 1, number 5 of The Weldon Times on April 4, 1973. Shatford decided to print the unedited, untranscribed version of the letter, but for accessibility purposes, this publication will feature a version transcribed to the best of my ability.

During my summer position in family law, I’ve heard more than one family lawyer half-jokingly say the best way to avoid the chaos is simple: “Don’t get married.” Romantic, I know.

A student reflects on grief during law school and how members of the Weldon community supported her in a manner previously unexperienced.

Early on, I decided, “I would never pursue law.”    That is what I would tell my mom anytime she floated the idea of me becoming a...

My mind always craved high-impact movement. This made things like cardio circuits, spin class, and Pilates a perfect fit. In these spaces, I was part of something bigger than myself. When I made space for movement, I found community.

When I was eight, university felt impossibly far away. As a kid, just a week felt like a year. But as the weeks turned into months, and months into years, my undergrad came and went in a flash. So much life happens between point A and point B, and yet we look back and wonder how things flew by so quickly. Even during undergrad, the idea of being a working lawyer felt like a lifetime away.

Climate change has been a sword of Damocles hanging over our heads for over 40 years now. The changes predicted in the late 1970s are materializing at home and in remote areas of the world. One of the most notably impacted regions is the Arctic. The melting of glaciers, disappearance of polar caps, and recession of perma-ice have wreaked havoc on the lives of animals and plants inhabiting the North. Unfortunately, new challenges have arisen.

Egbeyemi attempts to connect with a dearly departed friend who died by suicide, and he urges others to reach out for help.

I spent most of my first year in law school feeling like a fraud. I’d written a impassioned personal statement about imparting change on...

With leaves that looked almost spider-y and gentle white coned flowers – which are not flowers at all but specialized leaves called spathes.

Studying international law as a law student feels like playing a game of Uno where everyone insists on their own rules. Let's give it teeth.

It can be easy to settle into a monotonous routine. I want to challenge you to do something different at law school and in life.