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[CHATTER] [MUSIC - EDWARD ELGAR, "POMP AND CIRCUMSTANCE]
[APPLAUSE, CHEERING]
[APPLAUSE]
EDUARDO M. PENALVER: Please be seated. Good afternoon law school faculty and administration, family and friends, members of Cornell Law School's class of 2018.
[APPLAUSE]
I'm Eduardo Penalver, the Allen R. Tessler Dean of the law school. Today's a very special day for our graduates, but it's also a special day for the families of our graduates, particularly for their parents who've supported them throughout their lives and right up to this important day.
[CHEERING, APPLAUSE]
Financially, emotionally, financially.
[LAUGHTER]
Before we begin, I invite our graduates to take a moment to offer their parents a round of applause in gratitude for everything that they've done to make this day possible.
[APPLAUSE]
Let's also take a brief moment to remember parents and family who are no longer with us. Thank you.
I remember when the JD class of 2018 arrived in Ithaca as eager 1L's. The three years have gone by so quickly. It seems like just yesterday that you were the ones complaining about the superlative e-mails.
[LAUGHTER]
Isn't there a 3L listserv, Ms. Duncan? Mr. Wilson?
[CHEERING]
The circle of academic life. Here we are, three years later, celebrating your successful completion of this rigorous course of study. Honed by countless hours of arduous training, your minds are now superbly equipped to grapple with the most intractable legal puzzles. What are the boundaries of legally protected speech? What is the scope of personal jurisdiction in the internet age? And of course, a question I first posed to you during orientation nearly three years ago, is a burrito a sandwich?
[LAUGHTER]
Let's dwell on that last one for a moment. In New York state, where sandwiches are subject to the sales tax, the New York Department of Taxation and Finance states that sandwiches include cold and hot sandwiches of every kind, weather made on bread, on bagels, on rolls, in pitas, in wraps, or otherwise. Applying this broad definition, New York specifically includes burritos on its authoritative list of taxable sandwiches.
In contrast, the Department of Agriculture, the USDA, defines a sandwich as requiring two slices of bread. Now why might the USDA favor such a narrow definition of sandwiches? Perhaps because the Food and Drug Administration is responsible for regulating sandwiches, and so a restrictive definition on the scope of the definition of sandwiches increases the USDA has jurisdiction. The USDA's two-slice definition of sandwiches leads to the somewhat odd state of affairs in which the FDA regulates closed-face sandwiches, but the USDA regulates open-faced sandwiches-- and burritos.
But it was a 2006 state court case that really brought the burrito sandwich controversy to the public's attention. In negotiating its lease with the White City Shopping Center in Shrewsbury, Massachusetts, a Panera franchise insisted that the shopping center not rent out any space to other sandwich-selling businesses. After agreeing to that restriction, the shopping center rented a storefront to Qdoba, a Mexican fast casual chain.
And the Panera franchise sued, claiming that the shopping center had violated the no sandwich provision because Qdoba sells a lot of burritos. The judge turned to Webster's Dictionary, which defines sandwiches as two thin slices of bread, usually buttered, with a thin layer spread between them. And on the basis of this, I think, somewhat bizarre definition, the judge ruled that burritos are definitely not sandwiches and that the lease had not been violated.
Now the judge might instead have asked what the parties were trying to accomplish when they entered into their lease. No doubt the Panera franchise wanted to avoid local competition, and the shopping center owners certainly understood this. Burritos and sandwiches are substitutes for one another in the market for quick meals you can eat with your hands. In fact, in a different case, the US Patent and Trademark Office had found just that. Sandwiches and burritos are conceptually similar, it said. Both are composed of a flour-based exterior containing a filling, such as meat or cheese. And both move in the same channels of trade and are offered to the same classes of consumers.
So perhaps the court in the Panera case could have treated burritos as sandwiches after all. But even if this is what the parties intended, the judge might have concluded that these sorts of anti-competitive lease provisions harm consumer choices and so should be narrowly construed, as the judge did by adhering to the two-slice definition of a sandwich.
We could take this discussion even further. One law professor commenting on the Panera case has suggested that the judge was exhibiting implicit ethnic bias when he excluded burritos from the sandwich category.
[LAUGHTER]
He was othering the burrito. All these important questions from the humble question, whether a burrito is a sandwich. Yes, parents, this is what we've been doing to your children's minds--
[LAUGHTER]
--for the past three years.
[APPLAUSE]
You may have noticed a change. In all seriousness, what we've been up to is teaching them to be lawyers. And a good lawyer can move from seemingly mundane questions, like the culinary taxonomy of the burrito, to broad questions of public policy, like the analysis of competitive markets or implicit bias. And it's easy to poke fun at lawyers penchant for parsing, but our tendency towards casuistry reflects a serious and important commitment.
Embedded within the heroic efforts of courts and administrative agencies to correctly classify the burrito according to its sandwich-like qualities is a recognition of the bedrock axiom of justice that, as Aristotle said, "like cases should be treated as like." And this commitment to equal justice lies at the foundation of the rule of law. It's the most distilled expression of the notion that legal decisions must be rational. They must be susceptible to explanation, to justification.
Of course, we can-- and do-- disagree about what equal justice entails, about what differences are meaningful, about which explanations hold water. Indeed, disputes about the concrete meaning of equal justice are among our society's most divisive. In the context of race, for example, does equal justice mean formal equal treatment, as Chief Justice Roberts argued when he asserted that to stop discrimination on the basis of race, we must stop discriminating on the basis of race. Or does equal justice instead require, as Justice Sotomayor argued several years later, that we must speak openly and candidly on the subject of race, acknowledging the racial differences that remain embedded in our many legal institutions and social practices and acting to correct them?
Our disagreements about these questions are meaningful, and the answers matter. They make a difference in people's lives. But these disagreements should not obscure what we all share, or at least ought to share, especially as lawyers-- a belief in the requirement of equal justice and the rule of law. The community of those who share that belief is broad and diverse, to be sure.
Some would say that this community is so broad, that this commitment to equal justice is so thin, so devoid of substantive content, that it's a triviality. But surveying the state of affairs in the world today, we can see that the commitment to equal justice and the rule of law is far from universal. These days, affirming the rule of law, the rule of reason, in contrast to the rule of whim or impulse does not feel trivial.
The legendary Cornell historian Carl Becker once insisted that the most important purpose of this university was to maintain and promote the humane and rational values which are essential to the preservation of democratic society and of civilization as we understand it. Cornell's founders wisely understood that the study of law had a vital role to play in achieving this mission.
From the beginning, Cornell University's first president and co-founder Andrew Dickson White wanted Cornell to have a law school. And he wanted this law school to produce a different kind of lawyer, lawyers who were, in his words, "well-trained, large-minded, and morally-based." There's never been a more urgent need for such lawyers. And just as A.D. White hoped, today, 130 years after our first convocation, Cornell Law School continues to produce a different kind of lawyer.
The Cornell difference is rooted in the unique qualities of this law school-- our small size and-- we can admit it-- our somewhat isolated location, and our exceptional diversity. Racial and gender diversity, to be sure, but also diversity of life experience and viewpoint. And the diverse mosaic that is Cornell Law School today reflects the founding vision of Ezra Cornell and A.D. White to create a truly modern democratic university, where the most highly-prized instruction would be available to anyone regardless of sex or color.
Because of our diversity and because of our strong sense of community that is fostered by our small size and by our out-of-the-way location, Cornell is a law school where people learn to respect and care for one another, despite differences and disagreements. At a time when so many people have retreated into filter bubbles full of those who think just like them, Cornell Law School is a place where the Federalist Society and the American Constitution Society chapters can get together and co-sponsor a fascinating discussion of civil forfeiture over sandwiches from Chipotle.
[LAUGHTER]
Cornell Law School is a strong and tightly-knit family. That's not to say that we always agree or get along. No family does. But our bonds to one another are ultimately stronger than our differences and our mistakes. And those bonds are the reasons that the imprint of your time here in Ithaca will remain with you long after this important day There would give the Cornell lawyer her trademark decency. And those bonds will continue to pull you together over the course of your careers. Class of 2018, I could not be more proud to call you Cornell lawyers. Congratulations.
[APPLAUSE]
Now as is our custom, we'll be hearing from two of our graduates this afternoon, both of them elected by their peers to speak with us today. One represents the Juris Doctor class, and the second represents our Master of Laws program. We'll also hear from a member of our faculty, also selected by this year's graduating students. Speaking first will be our JD graduate John Ready.
[APPLAUSE]
John was an undergraduate at Columbia University, where he majored in mathematics. During his time at Cornell Law School, he has served as the executive editor of Volume 103 of the Cornell Law Review. John is a classically trained guitarist. And in fact, he won the award for best live musical performance at this year's cabaret. A native of upstate New York, he's also a passionate ice hockey player. This fall, John plans to join Simpson, Thatcher, and Bartlett in New York City. Please join me in welcoming John Ready.
[APPLAUSE]
JOHN READY: Thank you, DP. Thank you to the faculty and staff. And welcome family, friends, mothers, fathers, brothers, sisters, sons, daughters, husbands, wives, and fiances to Cornell. None of us would be here without you.
[APPLAUSE]
Class of 2018, we did it! Each one of you did it! And if I've learned one thing after three years, you do not want to start a war with us. Ain't that right.
[CHEERING]
But I have one question, and it's a question I find myself pondering more often than I care to admit. What comes next? What comes next? For some of you, the answer is easy. There's a reception after the ceremony, and you're going straight to the bar. I'll see you there.
[LAUGHTER]
Others dwell on a less welcoming bar, one they will spend the coming months studying for. I'll also see you there. Or perhaps you can give a long term answer. I'm going to clerk. I'm joining a firm. I'm working for the government. But my question is getting at something deeper. And if I could go a little further, I'd submit that none of us have the answer. I certainly don't.
We law students, and lawyers even, tend to have all our contingencies mapped out. In one L, we each expected to ace finals, win moot court, join law review, polish our interview skills for the white-shoe firms. But for how many of us did it work out the way we planned? Life is too much a series of intersecting lives and incidents to be fully within our control. If life were capable of being boiled down into an infallible algorithm, we could predict with certainty the prudence and outcome of every move long before we made it. Alas, life is not, and so we cannot. "Ecclesiastes 9:11 Time and chance happen to us all." I don't know what comes next.
Now for some good news. Law school has made us comfortable with uncertainty. Facing these many grades of maybe, we learn to be humble about what we know, confident about what's possible, and less afraid of things that just don't matter. So where does that leave us? Should we sit back and let life's undertow sweep us out into the uncertain future? In the words of the late professor Lynn Stout-- and say it with me if you had her for BusOrgs-- the answer is not no, but hell no. Repose is not our destiny. Professor Dorf, we will not stagnate. For even Odysseus, after finally arriving home, was prophesied to leave Ithaca for shores unknown.
As to how we should navigate our uncertain future, I'll share with you a little [INAUDIBLE] for meditation after the bar. Crossing the stage today and entering your future life in the law, be not two feet walking on ahead into the rest of your life, be a head walking on two feet questioning what comes next. A head walking on two feet, not simply two feet walking on ahead.
I know what you're thinking, what the heck is this dude talking about? Allow me to explain. First, know that true north moves, and the path forward is not always a straight line. Fix a finish line, fix one path, and you'll find that if you walk as fast as possible and look at nothing but your shoes, you will arrive much more quickly than if you had looked around. Straying from the path does not have to be a bad thing. We are large. We contain multitudes. We contradict ourselves. And we can still do good.
Second, beware the doldrums. Trivial, mindless tasks offer an escape from ever having to think and to remind yourself of the important questions. You'll never have to make the conscious choices Professor Bigoness spoke of in her Anne Lukingbeal Award speech.
Third, remember that while a corporation has no conscience, a corporation of conscientious men and women is a corporation with a conscience. The oaths we take to uphold our centuries-old institutions have value only as much as we recognize the history of liberty has largely been the history observing their safeguard. Forming a good conscience is the first step.
Finally, bet on yourself. You can effect change through these institutions. Why would young John Kennedy and Barack Obama abandon the Senate in favor of a bruising long shot bid at the White House? Each dreamed of bigger things and was willing to bet on themselves. None were paralyzed by a fear of failure. None were content to bask in the comfort of their current position. Nor were they so drunk with confidence that they overlooked the dangers of overreaching.
There are few realities that do not begin in dreams. In the end, it's not whether our choices are as clear or logical as 2 plus 2 equals 4, but whether they were made for the right reasons. You will struggle. You will suffer. And you will face bitterness. But just like Captain Ahab after the whale finally got the best of him, you'll find your top most grief and your top most joy are buried deep in the same place. And the good you accomplish there will be long overdue. Class of 2018, I cannot wait to witness all you have yet to accomplish. I cannot wait to see what comes next. Congratulations.
[APPLAUSE]
EDUARDO M. PENALVER: Thank you, John. It's now my pleasure to introduce our LLM speaker Marcel Nadal Michelman.
[APPLAUSE]
Marcel received his Bachelor of Law degree from the Pontifical Catholic University in Sao Paolo, Brazil. Since then, he has earned specializations in intellectual property, music, and entertainment law, as well as business law from several other Brazilian universities. Like our JD speaker, Marcel is also a talented musician, although his medium is jazz. In 2016, he received a Master of Arts administration degree from New York University, where he wrote his thesis on the relevance of unions in the development of the performing arts. At Cornell, he's continued his focus on intellectual property sports and entertainment law. He's also worked as an interpreter for Cornell's farm worker and immigration clinics. Please join me in welcoming Marcel Nadal Michelman.
[APPLAUSE]
MARCEL NADAL MICHELMAN: Good afternoon, everyone. Just would like to say first that I never had the opportunity of meeting John, who just spoke before me. And I know what you're talking about, and I hope you see why. So dear LLMs, JDs, JSDs, and faculty friends from Cornell Law School, it is a thrill and honor to speak on behalf of my beloved LLM class of 2018 during the ceremony.
I first graduated from law school in the year of 1998. At that time, 20 years ago, right after I returned my cap and gown, my father asked me a question. Guess what, John. My father asked me, and now what's next?
[LAUGHTER]
My immediate answer at that time was, let's get some legal work done. Today, my father is here. And I'm pretty sure that right after I return this cap and gown into law school, he's going to ask me the same question that haunted me for so many years-- and now what's next? My father gave me my first job in his own law firm. Afterwards, I moved my practice to major law firms, to multinational corporations, and got my own law practice handling intellectual property entertainment law matters for musicians and artists.
Over the last 20 years, I was amazed to learn that [INAUDIBLE] of law, government, corporations, law also allows you to work in so many different areas that we haven't even dreamed while attending the law school, from representing a full orchestra in national labor matters against a local union to be invited by a TV star client to participate in an HBO series as an actor. I mean, I don't put this in my resume, but I just recently discovered that here in the US the series is also available by HBO Latino channel by the name of El Nogocio. Season two, episode 8, in case you're wondering, if you want to watch it.
[LAUGHTER]
Anyway. Still, I always wanted to study abroad and live abroad, a dream that I have postponed for so many years. So giving up a well-established life, I decided to give it a try and entered the brand new chapters of the book of my life that led me to be here right in front of you at this moment.
Such change required me to say yes to the unknown. "Everything in the world began with a yes," said the great Ukrainian-Brazilian writer Clarice Lispector. We are all here because of a sequence of yeses. Because our parents, they said yes to each other. Because Cornell said yes to us. And because all of us decided to say yes and embrace a career in law.
For us LLMs who already have a career in law in our home countries, we say yes to the challenge of trying to learn, in just 10 months, a totally new system of laws, statutes, new ways of writing, speaking, and how to use a totally different rational to argue cases and legal issues. In our LLM class, we have attorneys from numerous nationalities. We have judges. We have public defenders. We have doctors. Members of the government with solid careers. Professionals who said yes for a new challenge that would add something unique in their lives and elevate their experiences personally and professionally.
Ithaca and Cornell allowed me incredible experiences, such as witnessing snowflakes during the spring, watching a hockey and an American football game for the first time-- I still don't get the rules-- my first moot court in the US, my first attempt to try to understand the common law system that I read so much about in my civil law classes in Brazil.
As some of you may know, I also experienced an unfortunate diagnosis of cancer in early February. For three months, I wasn't even really sure if I would be here to offer you this speech. We recently received with heavy hearts the news about Professor Lynn Stout passing away last month because of cancer. Not only her, but also parents from other friends in the law school woefully faced the same problem. In my case, I went to surgery, and I waited for the exam results. Perfect combination of fear, panic, and anxiety. In April, the results came in. Did it work? The doctor said, yes, you're cured.
[APPLAUSE, CHEERING]
Thank you. I don't have words to describe how thankful I am for the support I received from Dean Houghton, Dean Miner, Professor Liivak, Professor Weyble, Sebok, Professor James Dabney and Beth Lyon. Not to mention my family in Brazil, my wife, and friends from all over the world, and also my beloved LLM family.
For the first time, I came to realize that life can be brief here than we can possibly imagine. Becoming a survivor was not the plot change I was expecting in my story. Still, this experience had drastically changed my perception of what's next. Being diagnosed with cancer at 42 made me rethink the question that I once heard from my father in my first graduation 20 years ago-- and now what's next? This time besides getting some legal work done, I would enjoy opportunities that life has put right in front of me, things that could have never been done without my beloved LLM and Cornell friends.
So once I return this cap and gown into law school, I want to visit my friends from Africa, a place I always wanted to visit--
[CHEERING]
--and never did. I want to visit my friends from India and try some real gulab jamun. I want to go to a Japanese court room and ask, [SPEAKING IN JAPANESE]-- who is the judge in charge? Maybe Taka might appear with his camera around his neck and take a picture from everybody in the courtroom. I want to visit Berlin so our one and only doctor in law, Homan Kovalik, might be able to explain to me where there is the German sense of humor comes from.
[LAUGHTER]
I want to go to Greece and visit Stella, and try to figure out a way to make the British return parts of the Parthenon to the Greeks, solving a property problem that lasted for centuries. I want to go to Scotland with Poppy and busker with her on the streets of Glasgow and make some incredible live music for an impromptu audience of strangers. Maybe try the crazy bhangra dance in Pakistan with Shabeen and my friend Ibrahim. I want to rediscover Latin America, Europe. Visit Mongolia, Kazakhstan, Korea, Thailand, Taiwan, China.
China. It's going to take some time for me to visit all my Chinese friends in China. But most of all while in China, I want to challenge the president of the LLM Association Ming Li for a table tennis match. And maybe, who knows, if I win, I can become like a national hero. You never know. But after all, my friends, the best things in life are not things.
In the meantime, I intend to have a lot of legal work done, and always look forward and face the unexpected with my head up, like we lawyers are trained to do. The only certainty that we have is that there will be uncertainty. And about that, I'd like to quote one of my favorite songs from the singer and songwriter Benjamin Scheuer. He says, "It's not how long the rain falls, or how hard the wind blows, or how deep is the snow in the road, nor the balance we fake when we feel the ground shake, and we think that our world will explode. It's the help that we give. It's the love that we live. It's our pride in the friendships we form. It's the courage we show facing things we don't know. It's the way that we weather the storm."
[NON-ENGLISH SPEECH]
Thank you very much.
[APPLAUSE, CHEERING]
EDUARDO M. PENALVER: Obrigado, Marcel. It's now my great pleasure to introduce today's faculty's speaker, Professor Saule Omarova.
[APPLAUSE, CHEERING]
Professor Omarova joined the Cornell Law School faculty in 2014. Before coming to Cornell, she taught previously at the University of North Carolina School of Law. Professor Omarova received her undergraduate degree at Moscow State University in the former Soviet Union. She went on to earn her PhD from the University of Wisconsin and her JD from the Northwestern University School of Law, now known as Pritzker. After law school, she practiced law for several years in the financial institutions group at the law firm of Davis, Polk, and Wardwell.
In 2006 until 2007, she served at the US Department of Treasury as a special advisor for regulatory policy to the undersecretary for domestic finance. Her scholarship focuses on the regulation of financial institutions, banking law, international finance, and corporate finance. Along with Professor Bob Hockett, she is the co-director of the program on law and regulation of financial institutions and markets within the Cornell Law School's Jack G. Clarke Institute for the Study and Practice of Business Law. Please join me in welcoming Professor Saule Omarova.
[APPLAUSE]
SAULE OMAROVA: Well it's hard to follow Marcel's speech, but I'll do my best. Dear Cornell Law School class of 2018, guests, family, and friends, from the bottom of my heart, and on behalf of all of my colleagues on the Cornell Law School faculty, congratulations.
[APPLAUSE]
It is my great honor to address you today. I'm genuinely touched and humbled by the fact that the class of 2018 has chosen me to deliver a few words of wisdom and inspiration on this momentous and happy day. Thank you so very much.
[APPLAUSE]
Of course, with this great privilege comes great responsibility. I spent many an hour thinking about what I wanted you to hear and remember as you are stepping into the world as the newly-minted next generation of Cornell lawyers in the best sense. I'm not big on celebratory event speeches, partly because it's difficult to avoid cliches and making them. And my students should know how I feel about cliches. It's also difficult because it's so easy to get overwhelmed with emotion, partly because graduations are always such bittersweet events, and because your class is truly very special to me.
Many of you I had a pleasure of teaching. Financial institutions, corporate finance, securities regulation, all those fun Shakespearean drama kind of courses. That was fun. Some of you I came to know as my student advisees. You will always be special to me. And then there are a few whom I met only when they crashed my class dinner parties at The Nines.
[LAUGHTER]
You know who you are.
[LAUGHTER]
So at one of those class dinners, one of you asked me a question that kind of startled me. You asked, so, professor, what's your story? And at the time, I didn't answer that question. But the question kind of stuck with me. Maybe because it hit on a very important truth, that each one of us has a story and is a story. So the fact that I'm standing here in front of you today as your convocation speaker is itself quite a remarkable story, given how improbable it is.
I grew up in a small provincial town in Kazakhstan, at the time, part of the Soviet Union, far behind the Iron Curtain-- if you even remember what that was. To me, the only tangible America was my father's scratched up vinyl record of Louis Armstrong and Ella Fitzgerald singing Hello, Dolly. Beyond that, America might as well have been a different planet, barely real and completely out of reach. And so were many other things in life, it seemed. I can't even tell you how many times I've been told by many different people in many different situations what I could and could not do, could and could not achieve, could and could not aim for. And they always sounded so self-assured and all-knowing, and they all were wrong.
So the point of my story for you, the class of 2018, is that nothing is impossible. Nothing should be impossible for you. The most improbable dreams can become true, can become reality, if you put your mind to it, work hard, and believe in yourself and in one another. So don't let anyone, anyone, tell you that you shouldn't bother trying because you either wouldn't get it or couldn't make it, or simply because it's not your place to do so. Do bother. Keep trying. Keep learning. Ask your questions. Find your answers. Most importantly, do your homework and own the results. Of course, my hope is that the results you seek will be worth pursuing. It would be a pity to waste one's energy, talent, life on pursuit of small-minded and self-centered goals.
As graduates of one of the world's great universities, you are uniquely blessed. Use the power that this privileged position gives you wisely and responsibly. Use it in a way that will leave the world as you leave this law school-- better for having had you part of it. We've given you the knowledge you need to do that. We have taught you how to understand and apply a wide array of general legal principles and technical legal rules, how to analyze and interpret statutory language and court decisions, how to write legal briefs, and negotiate business contracts. You've put in a lot of work, though I must say, I'm sure that some of you could have done more in that respect.
[LAUGHTER]
You know who you are.
[LAUGHTER]
Anyway, now you're finally ready to join the profession, this time not as our students, but as our colleagues. From now on, you will be making the law that we will be teaching here to your successors, just as your predecessors made some of the law that we've taught you. It's now up to you to carry on this multi-generational project.
It isn't going to be easy. Ours is a difficult and demanding profession. We lawyers are not simply paid help to our clients. We are their counselors and advisors. We are also the officers of the court and guardians, custodians, of the law. We use our professional expertise not simply to make a living, but to uphold the rule of law, pursue justice, and protect our society's core values. This is never an easy task. It's an especially difficult one at a time when professional expertise itself is treated with suspicion and distrust.
But don't let that discourage you. Believe in your mission and in yourselves. We know that you are up to that challenge. Because if we didn't know that, we wouldn't let you graduate. And we will be watching you. That's a promise. We'll be following your news, now from afar. We'll be celebrating your successes. And we will always welcome you back at Myron Taylor Hall, your Cornell home. So go out there, make your mark, make the world better, and make us all proud. Good luck.
[APPLAUSE]
EDUARDO M. PENALVER: Thank you, Professor Omarova. As impressive as all of our speakers have been this afternoon, we now come to what I suspect will be the highlight for most of you, the formal recognition of our graduates. At this time, I will turn the proceedings over to our Dean of Students Markeisha Miner.
[APPLAUSE]
MARKEISHA J. MINER: Thank you, Dean Penalver. We will begin this afternoon with our candidates for the degree of Doctor of the Science of Law.
[READING NAMES]
The following are the candidates for the degree of Master of Laws.
[READING NAMES]
Take your time.
[READING NAMES]
[APPLAUSE]
The following are the candidates for the degree of Master of Laws in Law Technology and Entrepreneurship.
[APPLAUSE]
[READING NAMES]
The following are the degree candidates for Juris Doctor and Master of Laws in International and Comparative Law.
[READING NAMES]
[APPLAUSE]
The following are the candidates for the degree of Juris Doctor.
[READING NAMES]
Please join me in congratulating the Cornell Law School class of 2018.
[APPLAUSE]
EDUARDO M. PENALVER: You can stay standing. Congratulations to all of you. Before we conclude, let's take a moment to thank Linda Majeroni for all of her work planning this event.
[APPLAUSE]
And actually, let's thank all the staff, all the staff who volunteered to be here today.
[APPLAUSE]
Before we conclude, I'm pleased to present two of our JD graduates, Rebecca Duncan and Grant Gile, who will lead us in singing the Alma Mater. And they will be accompanied by members of the Cornell University Wind Symphony under the direction of Dr. James Spinazzola. Please remain standing for the singing of the Alma Mater. The words appear on the last page of your program. Once we conclude the Alma Mater, please remain standing while the faculty recesses out of the arena. And then please join us back at the law school for a reception honoring our graduates.
[MUSIC - "FAR ABOVE CAYUGA'S WATERS"]
ALL: (SINGING) Far above Cayuga's waters, with its waves of blue, stands our noble Alma Mater, glorious to view. Lift the chorus, speed it onward, loud her praises tell. Hail to thee, our Alma Mater. Hail, all hail, Cornell. Far above the busy humming of the bustling town, reared against the arch of Heaven, looks she proudly down. Lift the chorus, speed it onward, loud her praises tell. Hail to thee, our Alma Mater. Hail, all hail, Cornell.
[CHEERING, APPLAUSE]
[SYMPHONY CONTINUES PLAYING]
Cornell Law School honors the Class of 2018 at its convocation ceremony May 12 in Newman Arena, Bartels Hall.
