Week Six, Part 2 - Konversation with Kaveny

Walking across campus before class, I catch up with my Contracts teacher, Professor Cathleen Kaveny. She’s short and pale-skinned, blonde hair cut like an undergrad, parted down the middle and curled under at the shoulders. A silk scarf is knotted around her neck.

For most 1L’s, law profs have a mystical quality about them. Big brains. Degrees from fabled schools. Handsome salaries. Most importantly, the ability to determine our futures by the grades they give.

"Hi, Cathy," I say. Since coming to Notre Dame Law School, I haven’t heard any student address a prof by first name. But, I figure, we’re outside the class and she’s about my age. Kaveny graduated from Princeton in 1984, then went to Yale University for her Master of Arts (1986), Master of Philosophy (1990), J.D. (1990) and Ph.D. (1991).

“Hello.” She seems to recognize me from Contracts, but doesn’t know my name.

Good, I think. Don’t want her to start calling on me!

I ask Cathy how she likes teaching. Last year she was an associate in health care law at a big firm in Boston, Ropes & Gray.

“So far it’s been good,” Cathy says. “How ‘bout you? Has your first year been stressful?”

I want to gripe (“I’m too dumb and a bit old”). Instead I mumble, “Okay, aside from a certain early morning class.”

She laughs. Her steps are small, so I slow down.

I ask what other subjects she’s teaching.

“Nothing else,” Cathy says. “My load is one-one. Plus, of course, research and writing.”

“Of course.”

“I'm committed to three articles by the end of the year,” Cathy says. “They're breaking us in easy."

“Us” refers to the cadre of rookie profs: the brilliant William K. Kelley (B.A. from Marquette; J.D. from Harvard; clerk for Judge Kenneth Starr and Supreme Court Justices Warren Burger and Antonin Scalia), Pat Schiltz (B.A. from St. Scholastica, J.D. from Harvard, also a Scalia clerkship), Elizabeth Schiltz (B.A. from Yale; J.D. from Columbia).

I tell Cathy I used to be a teacher.

"So, do you want to teach law someday?"

I laugh. It’s like asking the Little Leaguer at the end of the bench whether he wants to pitch in the big leagues. I say, “Only the top students do that."

"Not necessarily. There are former Supreme Court clerks who can't find jobs. A lot of it is luck and timing."

We’re at the door of the law school. Cathy pulls it open for herself and heads in first.

“What’d you teach?” she asks.

“Freshman Comp and an elective or two.”

“Where at?”

“My alma mater, Pillsbury College in Minnesota.”

Cathy shakes her head as if she’s never heard of it.

I mention that the namesake was George Pillsbury, a Minnesota businessman and philanthropist in the 1800's.

Cathy tells me that a latter-day Pillsbury, Charlie, was "floating around Yale" when she was a student there. I must looked confused because she adds, "The Doonesbury character."

I shake my head.

"Charlie Pillsbury was Gary Trudeau's roommate at Yale, and that's who he based the comic strip on."

“Oh!” I finally see the connection: Doonesbury-Pillsbury.

"Yale,” I say, changing the subject. “That's impressive."

"I was lucky," Cathy says. She too changes the subject, asking if I miss teaching.

"Not like I thought."

Cathy says she misses “studenthood.”

"You'll have to teach for a while,” I say, “‘cause you're maxed out on degrees."

Cathy laughs. "There's always med school."

* * *