I think everyone was in a bit of a funk this AALS. 2019 was hard on everyone. That mostly isn’t the fault of AALS.
For those not in the know, the American Association of Law Schools (AALS) Annual Meeting takes place in early January. This year it was in Washington, D.C. Many people I spoke with felt a little off. Hey, look at me, vying to be a TV journalist by using the phrase “some people are saying!”
Maybe it was the hotel. The Marriott Wardman Park Hotel, a place known in the legal academic community as “the meat market hotel,” is a bit run down. The hotel’s two towers brings back memories of having to run back and forth for job interviews, for those enough lucky enough to have had them. I personally passed by the room where my alma mater “interviewed” me as a courtesy before moving on to their serious candidates (my room was three doors down). During a prior stay here, I fixed my toilet, which was running all night. And the picture in my room looked like something from “Stranger Things.” Marriott Marquis next D.C. time, AALS?
Perhaps it is Iran. We were all set — and excited — to talk about impeachment, and now the topic of conversation has pivoted to war powers. As I wrote in a tweet: “I feel a grave disturbance in the force. It is as if a thousand law professors working on impeachment law review articles suddenly shifted to writing about war powers.”
Perhaps it was the whole “why is my professor at a conference drinking and living large while I’m waiting on my damn grades?” feeling. It is a legitimate grievance. I see less schlepping of exams to and from the conference every year, though. By the way, I want to assure students that most professors get how serious grades are. We may joke to relieve tension, but we are serious about them.
A lot of people were not feeling well.
There were discussions about the one-sidedness of some panels. I’m sympathetic to these arguments. I don’t think panels should be cheerleading sections. Nor should it be football, with two opposing sides clashing. The world is more nuanced than binary opposition, something lost in the current political climate. (And even if it were football, who’s the ref?) Regardless, this is something that does need some work, AALS Sections. Then again, if most law professors come from the same schools, can you really do anything about it?
I could focus on all of this as I have in the past, but I am striving to be more positive this year. I want to focus on what I enjoy about AALS. Why I keep going every year, apart from my perpetual drive to annoy the staff with my hijacking of the #AALS2020 hashtag.
- I go because I love to see my friends. There are people I only see once or twice a year. That I never speak to but for these conferences. We could speak beyond that, but we all have our habits. It is nice to see friendly faces and catch up with friends.
- I love to meet new people. Every year, I make it a point to meet new people from #LawTwitter. People ARE different on twitter than they are in person. They are more nuanced. They are human. People whose tweets sometimes make me cringe I actually like in person.
- I love to learn. Sometimes that means going to panels, but, damn, a lot of learning happens in the halls. I’ve pick up article ideas, given a few, made connections to facilitate research, and otherwise feel inspired hearing what other people are working on.
- I love that the supportive environments that weren’t always there are helping to make the conference more welcoming. The Pretenure Faculty of Color Workshop is growing. There is an Affinity Group for Law Professors with Disabilities & Their Allies.
- I love the exhibition hall. I have friends who work there: People I look forward to seeing every year. People who make AALS fun. The people who work the exhibition hall are very hard-working people. Sure, they provide a base for the rest of us where we can pick up coffee and cookies, but they are fun to talk to. And I learn from them, too.
- I love talking to deans at AALS. Sure, I get accused of sucking up to them, but I actually learn different perspectives from them. I used to think that anyone who wanted to be a dean was insane. Now, I understand the sense of purpose they hold. A sense of duty. Also, of course, I love to tweet thanks about job offers I’ve never received. Yet.
- I love to observe. Sometimes, I’m a huge introvert and don’t want to talk to anyone. But at the conference, I can observe. The discussion at the bar. A kind professor who helps someone. I see more humanity in law professors than the world gives them credit for.
- Karaoke. Kidding. There was no way I was going to that. Regardless, it should happen every year. Make it so.
- Receptions. Yes, I complain there are too many and not evenly distributed across days, but I love to meet people from new law schools. I like to see how the receptions reflect the schools. Receptions are life’s way of having casual conversations among people who might not be socially adept.
Sure, I have in the past pushed that AALS needs to make some changes. And I still believe that, for its own survival, it needs to still change. I nudge because I care. But there are things beyond its control, and things I don’t want to change. The list above are things I like about AALS that I don’t want to change, even if I don’t go to karaoke.
Academia can be, and is often, isolating. And the AALS could be more inclusive, a bit less hierarchical, and less cliquey. That’s what the new year is for: Aspirational goals, right?
See you next year, AALS. I apologize in advance for my tweets.
LawProfBlawg is an anonymous professor at a top 100 law school. You can see more of his musings here. He is way funnier on social media, he claims. Please follow him on Twitter (@lawprofblawg) or Facebook. Email him at lawprofblawg@gmail.com.