Matt Fitzwater-Stevens
DSC00040
This is Blackacre, the courtyard at the heart of Vanderbilt Law School. Completely invisible to the outside world, the courtyard can be entered only from within. It bears the standard name for a real estate parcel in a property law problem, much like "Joe Blow" is the name for any old schmuck.
Blackacre symbolizes the very real determination of Vandy Law students not to let their grinding work gut their friendships or their essential humanity. It is not unusual at other schools for roommates to sabotage each other's work, or for students to hide journals that are vital for a class project. That simply did not happen when I was at Vandy. People shared notes, and there even was an outline pool.
Blackacre's symbolism stems from a longstanding tradition: Every Friday evening, after classes are done, the Vanderbilt Bar Association rolls out the kegs and cranks up the music. Doors to the courtyard are thrown open, and the party begins. Professors and students mingle over beers, under the gracious trees of the courtyard.
As the administration planned its gut-rehab and massive additions, the students had many requests and suggestions. But, they made one thing abundantly clear: Keep Blackacre. Wisely, the dean listened.
DSC00040
This is Blackacre, the courtyard at the heart of Vanderbilt Law School. Completely invisible to the outside world, the courtyard can be entered only from within. It bears the standard name for a real estate parcel in a property law problem, much like "Joe Blow" is the name for any old schmuck.
Blackacre symbolizes the very real determination of Vandy Law students not to let their grinding work gut their friendships or their essential humanity. It is not unusual at other schools for roommates to sabotage each other's work, or for students to hide journals that are vital for a class project. That simply did not happen when I was at Vandy. People shared notes, and there even was an outline pool.
Blackacre's symbolism stems from a longstanding tradition: Every Friday evening, after classes are done, the Vanderbilt Bar Association rolls out the kegs and cranks up the music. Doors to the courtyard are thrown open, and the party begins. Professors and students mingle over beers, under the gracious trees of the courtyard.
As the administration planned its gut-rehab and massive additions, the students had many requests and suggestions. But, they made one thing abundantly clear: Keep Blackacre. Wisely, the dean listened.