A local poet, upon graduating law school, sent this verse to his erstwhile professors:
Dear Professors* [names, but not footnotes, elided]**
‘Twas the night ‘fore commencement and all the school’s halls
were mute in anticipation of students’ impending footfalls
carrying them down the aisle, up and across to the podium
where with a handshake they will shake off the three years’ opprobrium,
and then with the other hand seize the long-sought certificate
representing the years’ efforts and dear-bought terrific debt,
mastery of -- or at least exposure to -- certain bodies of law,
balancing the history, the text, the traditions and foofaraw.
Now to tie on the blindfold! To unsheathe the bright sword!
To swing the dread scales by choosing right law or right word!
So, on the cusp of credential, and more jobs (not yet, not me!)And signed it,
My potential and I thank you for all that you’ve taught me.
Sincerely, with gratitude, attitude, and a dash of aplomb,[redacted]
your (continuing) student and aspiring colleague.
* Other honorifics, e.g., “the honorable,” titles, e.g., “dean,” and modifiers, e.g., “adjunct,” or “associate,” omitted – I write as student.
** Arrangement in alphabetical order “utterly lacks originality” (499 U.S. 340, 364) and signifies nothing else in this case than an easy way to make sure I got you all on the list.