THE WELDON TIMES

A quarter of the way through the 21st century, we stand surrounded by slop. We are near-universally severed from the tangible creation of things. Instead, our productivity is abstracted to emails, spreadsheets, and Word documents. Most manufacturing of the things around us has been offshored, and, wherever it occurs, it is devoid of craft. This is our Faustian bargain for greater efficiency.

Like many others, I am stuck in a crippling doomscroll habit. After a long day, I find myself mindlessly swiping to see the next reel. Sometimes it’s an AFV-style fail compilation, other times it’s some glamorous travel vlog. But something has been changing up many of our feeds lately. Interrupting our disconnected scrolling are the faces of ordinary civilians experiencing unimaginable suffering through armed conflict. Accounts featuring everyday life in war-torn regions have

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.

Full version will be released soon. On August 18, 2025, the Dalhousie Board of Governors (BoG) notified the Dalhousie Faculty Association (DFA) that they were going to be locked out before faculty, librarians, instructors, and counsellors voted on the BoG’s latest offer.¹ This was the first time a U15 university locked out its faculty,² but it is part of a concerning trend of Canadian university lockouts that began in 2007.³ While universities are workplaces, they are also sp

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.

Over the past year, I’ve struggled with migraines, and by the summer, I had to seek the advice of a medical professional. I walked into my family doctor’s office, expecting to discuss potential medications or eyesight testing, but my doctor said the last thing I expected: I needed to come off my combined birth control pill – almost immediately – as migraines increase the risk of stroke to an unacceptable level.

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.

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.

Each year, law students across the country suit up, polish their resumes, and enter one of the most intense processes of their legal careers. This article offers steps and advice on how to make the most of your recruit process from those who have learned firsthand. 

Come with me to the Halifax Brewery Market Saturday morning. Farmers, bakers, florists, and crafters, painters, makers, chefs, and baristas – rain or shine, year after year – travel with their vans packed to the brim before dawn from The Valley and South Shore and set up on Lower Water Street to prepare displays that charm eyes and satiate curious tastes.

Few students know the Weldon Law Building’s namesake, but his legacy continues to echo through our halls through the Weldon Tradition of unselfish public service and, of course, The Weldon Times. The latter was founded in 1975 – or so we thought. Until last year, the thick fog of time enshrouded The Weldon Times’ beginning. A light pierced through, and that light was Doug Shatford. He reached out, we were dazzled, and he (quite humbly) allowed me to interview him on his ex

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.

You have really done it this time. After trash-talking beekeeping on social media again, you received a stern e-mail from Dean Harding summoning you to her office. Resigned to your fate, you close your eyes, take a deep breath, and softly open her door. If you don't complete this chess puzzle you could end up killed – or worse, expelled.

This summer, I had the opportunity to participate in the Queen’s International Law Program in the public international law stream. In this article, I will share some highlights and personal reflections on the program, from practical advice on entering the field of international law to insights into what it means to study it at a time when the system appears to be collapsing. 

Intrepid connoisseur, Nicole McLuhan, details her summer journey across the Halifax hot dog landscape. Ten dogs, all alike in company, In fair Halagonia, where we lay our scene, From ancient goal break to new glizzy-dom, Where hot dog stuff makes civil hands unclean.

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.

Law school is truly a journey, and we’re glad to be closing ours out with one last Tastefully Timed article. We hope you celebrate the highs and soften the lows with good food during your time at Weldon. Here’s our final recommendations for the moments and emotions you’ll experience over the next three (or more) years.

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...