The Education Issue

Hinton, who eventually found his way to the world of corporate compliance at GE and Google, couldn’t have fore­seen that he would one day be involved in a tech platform to report workplace misconduct in a brand-new way.

With these goals in mind, Professor Sugin spearheaded the creation of Fordham’s Office of Professionalism in 2017, shortly after becoming associate dean, putting the Law School at the forefront of a movement to expand the scope of professionalism education. Her goal: to fill in the gaps in traditional legal education and train students in historically neglected but essential capabilities. The Professionalism Office’s flagship programs focus on peer mentorship, student leadership, and community building.

The group has been busily revamping the curricula, which help more than 900 students a year soup up their communication, analytical, research, and writing skills, so they can hit the ground running once they graduate. “The reorganization allows us to look at the Law School’s mandatory skills training holistically and make connections where they weren’t explicit before,” says Strauss.

Two major initiatives, the REAL Scholars program and IDEAL, are meant to attract underrepresented students to the Law School and into the legal profession. With them, and other new programs, Fordham Law hopes to help shape a legal landscape that is more just and looks more like America.

“As I got older, there were fewer and fewer Black students in my classes,” Morrissey says. By the time he got to college, he was alone. “I’ve been [the only Black man in class] for years now, but it still hurts to see it and there’s still a level of frustration.”

Fordham Law has been working to ease that pain with several new programs meant to attract and welcome more underrepresented students. Yet too many law students of color across the country continue to find themselves the “onlys” in their sections—or one of just a few among a sea of white faces. “The American Bar Association did a [demographic] review of the legal profession and the numbers were quite abysmal,” says Kimathi Gordon-Somers, assistant dean of student affairs and diversity at Fordham Law.

“Then COVID hit,” says Professor Melnick, shaking his head.

By the end of spring break, he and every other professor, student, and most of the 1.3 million lawyers in America had become Zoom experts. Not only did remote meetings and classes become the norm, but video depositions, telephonic bail hearings, virtual trials, and court proceedings swept into the practice of law—which, historically, is not a field known for its rapid adoption of technology.

It didn’t seem as if law school would be in the cards for Stephen Cugliari, who was diagnosed with attention deficit hyperactivity disorder (ADHD) at age 5. “My family was absolutely whipsawed when I told them I wanted to apply—it’s the last option you’d expect for someone who has difficulty focusing,” recalls the 29-year-old.

“I was able to get through high school and even college, but law school was a whole different animal,” says Cugliari. “I had to focus for nearly two hours in lectures. I could barely concentrate for half that time, let alone take notes. Those things may come easily for some people, but it’s incredibly difficult for those of us with ADHD.”

The three students profiled on these pages, all Stein Scholars, are acquiring the legal skills to make an impact for the underserved, whether immigrants, workers, children, or anyone who is powerless. And while each one carved their own unique path in coming to Fordham, all are united in their goal of changing individual lives—and the world—for the better.

Like many parents, when the pandemic hit in March of 2020, Professor Joseph Landau, associate dean for academic affairs, and his husband found themselves suddenly confined at home in a New York City apartment with a highly energetic 2-year-old daughter. “School was closed, the playground was closed, and we needed to find a place where she could be outside,” says Professor Landau, who was teaching civil procedure to 1L students at the time.

That place turned out to be a 60-acre farm in a small town in North Carolina that had belonged to Landau’s late father-in-law. The couple bought a sight-unseen Chrysler Pacifica minivan, packed up their life, and hit the road. “We took everything we could think of, including our king-size bed, which we somehow fit on top of all the boxes,” says Landau. “Then we drove 12 hours through the night with our daughter—a city kid not used to cars—throwing up along the way. By the time we arrived, we were all exhausted.”