“You and I, my dear friend, have been sent into life at a time when the greatest lawgivers of antiquity would have wished to live.”
– John Adams, in a letter to George Wythe (1776)
Early on, our William & Mary law school education was placed within the context of history. During the first week of class—affectionately referred to as “law camp”—we walked from the Wren Chapel down Duke of Gloucester Street, tracing the footsteps of scholars. My class sat in the Kimball Theater as Professor Douglas regaled us with tales of Jefferson, Wythe, Marshall, and Tucker. He spoke of great men debating laws, studying classics, and laying the foundation of a new country— America’s first citizen lawyers.
Quoting heavily from his work “The Jeffersonian Vision of Legal Education”, Douglas explained how Jefferson and his generation saw how well suited lawyers were to “exercise public virtue”. In preparation of their legal careers, not only did Wythe’s students participate in moot court, but they also held debates about government functions in the old colonial capitol. After such an introduction to our great expectations, we were eager to begin. Books in hand, heads held high, we walked into the entrance of the school past the bronze statues of Marshall and Wythe where it is inscribed: “Here we will form such characters as may be useful in the National Councils of our country.”
During the founding of this country, Alex DeTocqueville observed, “In America there are no nobles or literary men, and the people are apt to mistrust the wealthy; lawyers, consequently, form the highest political class.” As such, we have a tremendous responsibility to be statesman-lawyers. So many lawyers who have come before us have fought for those who have not had the privilege to make choices, for those who have not had these opportunities to serve. Women, such as Ruth Bader Ginsberg who graduated at the top of her class, were once faced with law firm interview sign-up sheets that said “men only”. As I reflect on America’s first generation of citizen lawyers, those men in Wythe’s classroom, those men now in bronze, I cannot help but think that we can be greater. We can build on their progress. Our generation will be asked, “When you die, will you have left the law better or worse than you found it?” If we are to be true citizen lawyers, we will make it better.
Excerpted from my final essay in W. Taylor Reveley III’s seminar on The Citizen Lawyer. I also had the privilege of interviewing Reveley, the college’s president, about the future of William & Mary during my last radio show (and, we videotaped ourselves dancing in the studio, which became a viral hit on campus).
P.S. Did I mention I graduated!?
