Personal Statement Final Draft--look over?
Posted: Thu Jan 03, 2013 7:03 am
This is exactly 2 pages in Word. It has been EDITED to reflect changes from comments of the first two posters. Any other thoughts?
Breathing deeply, I begin to push away the worries in my mind. As the steady rhythm of the powwow drum washes over me, I feel my rapidly beating heart begin to slow. I study the dancers as they work intricate footsteps to the beat of the music. Finally, I feel at peace.
I’ve been seeking all my life for a place to belong. I am the child of a full-blooded member of the Cheyenne River Sioux Tribe from South Dakota—my father—who was adopted into a white family at an early age. I’ve always taken pride in being Native American, but I didn’t have any true cultural connections as a child. My father had spent many years ignoring his heritage in a quest to properly assimilate into “white” culture, so he had no desire to teach me about Native traditions.
As a sheltered high-school student, I attended a six-week summer camp for Native students, designed to provide extra high school credits for graduation. It exposed me to Native American culture in a way I’d never anticipated. That summer, I put away my childish ideals of being Native American. Instead, I saw what life seems like for many Native American youth today—a dead end world of drinking and joblessness, with few opportunities to succeed. That summer, I attended my first powwow. I discovered the depths of Native spirituality, and learned how some kids still fight to change their stereotypes, often without any help from the outside world.
In my early 20’s, I moved to the Nez Perce Reservation near Lewiston, Idaho, as part of an effort to find myself through embracing the Native side of my birthright. There, I continued to see the depressing portrayal of life for many Native Americans living on a reservation. I saw how things get done, or rather, are discussed endlessly but are never accomplished. I learned about the lack of positive role models for children on the reservation as I helped several smart girls ignore peer pressure and feel comfortable enjoying education. And I learned about the deep emotions felt by a number of Natives against “the white man,” stemming from their colonization hundreds of years ago, being placed in boarding schools as recently as the 1970s, and continuing today, with emotions rising most strongly when Native Americans are misunderstood or vilified by the courts. As someone of Native American heritage who was raised in the “white” world, I developed a rare ability to see the perspectives of both worlds, which became more obvious when I was witness to several preventable guilty verdicts that were handed to tribal members close to me. Tribal members were understandably upset and angry, but I was able to recognize what had happened: the judge didn’t have any understanding of tribal laws, nor had the public defender, so the ruling was based on county and state laws instead. Had a lawyer been present with an understanding of how tribal law worked with federal, state and county laws, the outcome might have been different.
Watching those myriad legal issues unfold was when I began to seek out my calling. With my upbringing in the “white” world, I realized I had the potential to be a leader and role model in the Native world and liaison for Natives in the “white” world. Then, I discovered that I enjoyed studying tribal bylaws and discussing tribal strategy with knowledgeable tribal members, because the interpretations and defenses would affect generations of indigenous people. It made me want to learn more, and I realized that I wanted to attend law school to become a lawyer for my people.
My goal is to be accepted as an asset into this culture I’ve inherited, and to be a resource to my people in preserving and improving our traditions. I hope I can find ways to bring jobs to reservations and protect treaty rights that are quickly eroding. I hope to be a connection in the gap between the white world and the Indian world. But most importantly, I want to improve conditions for those struggling to find their place in our culture. I want to help the child growing up on the reservation cultivate a desire to learn amidst poverty and alcoholism; stand up for the grandmother who fights daily to instill good morals in her descendants; and help the elders who do what they can to teach young people about Indian customs and history. Just as I honor this heritage every time I step into the ring of a powwow, I want to do more to pass on our legacy.
Native life is a different culture, one both ancient and modern. It’s where I belong, and it’s where I can make the most difference. Some people have tried to dissuade me from choosing a specialty before attending law school, advising that just getting through the first year will be a miracle. Certainly it will be, but I am fueled by goals that I am determined to accomplish. I choose to not only get into and finish law school, but to practice Native American law, be a role model for Native youth, and secure a more positive future for indigenous people everywhere.
Breathing deeply, I begin to push away the worries in my mind. As the steady rhythm of the powwow drum washes over me, I feel my rapidly beating heart begin to slow. I study the dancers as they work intricate footsteps to the beat of the music. Finally, I feel at peace.
I’ve been seeking all my life for a place to belong. I am the child of a full-blooded member of the Cheyenne River Sioux Tribe from South Dakota—my father—who was adopted into a white family at an early age. I’ve always taken pride in being Native American, but I didn’t have any true cultural connections as a child. My father had spent many years ignoring his heritage in a quest to properly assimilate into “white” culture, so he had no desire to teach me about Native traditions.
As a sheltered high-school student, I attended a six-week summer camp for Native students, designed to provide extra high school credits for graduation. It exposed me to Native American culture in a way I’d never anticipated. That summer, I put away my childish ideals of being Native American. Instead, I saw what life seems like for many Native American youth today—a dead end world of drinking and joblessness, with few opportunities to succeed. That summer, I attended my first powwow. I discovered the depths of Native spirituality, and learned how some kids still fight to change their stereotypes, often without any help from the outside world.
In my early 20’s, I moved to the Nez Perce Reservation near Lewiston, Idaho, as part of an effort to find myself through embracing the Native side of my birthright. There, I continued to see the depressing portrayal of life for many Native Americans living on a reservation. I saw how things get done, or rather, are discussed endlessly but are never accomplished. I learned about the lack of positive role models for children on the reservation as I helped several smart girls ignore peer pressure and feel comfortable enjoying education. And I learned about the deep emotions felt by a number of Natives against “the white man,” stemming from their colonization hundreds of years ago, being placed in boarding schools as recently as the 1970s, and continuing today, with emotions rising most strongly when Native Americans are misunderstood or vilified by the courts. As someone of Native American heritage who was raised in the “white” world, I developed a rare ability to see the perspectives of both worlds, which became more obvious when I was witness to several preventable guilty verdicts that were handed to tribal members close to me. Tribal members were understandably upset and angry, but I was able to recognize what had happened: the judge didn’t have any understanding of tribal laws, nor had the public defender, so the ruling was based on county and state laws instead. Had a lawyer been present with an understanding of how tribal law worked with federal, state and county laws, the outcome might have been different.
Watching those myriad legal issues unfold was when I began to seek out my calling. With my upbringing in the “white” world, I realized I had the potential to be a leader and role model in the Native world and liaison for Natives in the “white” world. Then, I discovered that I enjoyed studying tribal bylaws and discussing tribal strategy with knowledgeable tribal members, because the interpretations and defenses would affect generations of indigenous people. It made me want to learn more, and I realized that I wanted to attend law school to become a lawyer for my people.
My goal is to be accepted as an asset into this culture I’ve inherited, and to be a resource to my people in preserving and improving our traditions. I hope I can find ways to bring jobs to reservations and protect treaty rights that are quickly eroding. I hope to be a connection in the gap between the white world and the Indian world. But most importantly, I want to improve conditions for those struggling to find their place in our culture. I want to help the child growing up on the reservation cultivate a desire to learn amidst poverty and alcoholism; stand up for the grandmother who fights daily to instill good morals in her descendants; and help the elders who do what they can to teach young people about Indian customs and history. Just as I honor this heritage every time I step into the ring of a powwow, I want to do more to pass on our legacy.
Native life is a different culture, one both ancient and modern. It’s where I belong, and it’s where I can make the most difference. Some people have tried to dissuade me from choosing a specialty before attending law school, advising that just getting through the first year will be a miracle. Certainly it will be, but I am fueled by goals that I am determined to accomplish. I choose to not only get into and finish law school, but to practice Native American law, be a role model for Native youth, and secure a more positive future for indigenous people everywhere.