Fenno - search results

As the longest-serving member of the Harvard Law School student body, I am happy to offer a few words of advice to incoming 1Ls....

Let me begin by saying that the “free press” in this country is a sham, and The Record is no exception. I recently submitted...

About the author: Fenno is a long-time contributor to the Record, recently returned from hiatus. A perpetual Harvard Law student, Fenno never ages, graduates,...

Note: This series is fictional. The First-Year’s Guide to the Law School has this to say on the subject of Thanksgiving break: They say that time...

Note: This serial is fictional.  Fenno skipped out of class, his step light. He had finished his 1L classes. The past year was suddenly a blur:...

Note: This serial is fictional.  As the summer neared, Fenno could barely focus on his studies. His section was abuzz with a new puzzle, even more...

Note: This serial is fictional.  Fenno returned from Spring Break with a sense of dread. He had frittered it away enjoying the comforts of home: the...

Note: This serial is fictional. "Look, man, I really need your help," the Prisoner of Concord pleaded. Fenno tried to remain unswayed. Prison Legal Assistance Project...

Note: This serial is fictional. Fenno had entered law school with so many dreams. As a 0L, he had basked in them, colorful and different, each...

Note: This serial is fictional.  The first person Fenno told about his LP was an OCS advisor. It struck him that his confidant was not a...

Note: This serial is fictional. Fenno's heart stopped when he saw it. The "LP" next to "Torts" was tiny, yet it seared him. A thousand thoughts...

Note: This serial is fictional.  "You will all fail on January 26." The words had appeared mysteriously on the white board beside Fenno's room in...

Fenno stood on a long, narrow dock flanked by the tranquil, turquoise waters of the Gulf of Thailand. How could it be, he thought, that he was leaving behind serene Ko Samui for the snows of Cambridge? He took a whiff of the Gulf's sweet, salty air, trying to forget the images of sooty slush that kept returning to him as he recalled what had led to this moment: the end of his semester in paradise, and his return to the spiritually moribund corridors of America's runner-up law school.

IT WAS the last day of class, and students seemed alert: the sound of keyboards being tapped echoed through the classroom like digital rain beating on its desks. Fenno looked to his left, where one student was engrossed in eight simultaneous GChat conversations (and even an MSN Messenger chat with someone in Europe) and then to his right, where someone was furiously composing last minute emails to the owners of several cramped New York apartments he was scrolling through on craigslist.

FENNO WAS WOKEN up by the annoying ping on his laptop. "dude, did u register yet?" some annoying former section-mate was inquiring via GChat. The sun, high in the sky, shone through Fenno's blinds, intensified in the refraction of the empty gin bottles lining his windowsills, and stung his sleep-deprived eyes.