It’s funny how all the clichés about the cycle of death and birth suddenly seem a lot less trite when actually confronted with either of those two extremes. The death of Supreme Court Justice Antonin Scalia has inspired a lot of discussion about President Barack Obama’s legacy. Maybe it’s the nature of presidential politics, but the pundits have said relatively little about Scalia’s legacy. This is no criticism of Scalia — sudden heart attacks are notoriously difficult to plan for — but I can’t help but wonder if the conversation would be different if he had retired instead.
This “constitutional crisis” is going to bring out the worst of our not-so-presidential primaries. It’s already started. In a way, although far less extreme, it has me thinking about succession here, as the fourth-years prepare to depart and the third-years assume the throne.
At least this is one way to describe succession. Not so subtly hidden within the word, though, is a smaller one — success. But no one ever asks about a succession plan for “failure.”
I don’t know if you saw, but Lawn room acceptances came out last week. They are at once a compliment to the best and brightest our University can produce and a testament to the anti-democratic nature of U.Va. Per usual, this year’s selections highlights include Honor Committee members, UJC members, University Guides, Jefferson Society members and the odd double-major Commerce student thrown in for good measure. Stop me if you’ve heard this before.
This being said, all of the people I know who received Lawn rooms are immensely deserving. Maybe those institutions are rewarded year after year because they are cornerstones of the University, but maybe they aren’t. More importantly though, their selection says there is a path to success at this place, and the road is well trodden.
I’m guilty of it, too. I applied to Honor first year, because one cursory glance around the Lawn at Convocation told me it was what I needed to do to succeed. Luckily, I was rejected, absolving me of any cognitive dissonance which would prevent me from writing this incisive and witty article.
Still though, I wonder if this message is more dangerous than it seems. We’re told time and again college is part of our formative years — this is where we learn lessons to last a lifetime. With regard to success, the lesson we learn from U.Va. is there is one type and one way to achieve it. Want to be a creative type? Great, we had one of those once! Tina Fey, somewhere, is weeping.
On the other hand maybe this is all unnecessary handwringing. If the worst that can be said of this school is it funnels us into well-paying careers, then that’s a criticism we can live with. But next year it would be pretty great if the Lawn selections were reflective of the diversity of worthwhile ways to spend time here, even if they are against the succession plan.
Scalia, of all people, wrote before his death the Supreme Court should consider justices from outside the Ivies. He thought there were enough “tall building lawyers” and former appellate judges to go around. In a way I agree with the late justice. We intuitively understand the trappings of traditional success, Lawn room or not. Honor Chair will always be capitalized, after all. Next time, if we can, let’s look at the most hours spent volunteering, or the most plays directed or whatever. We have enough tall building Lawnies.