Would welcome comments/feedback Forum

[Anonymous User]

As a kid, I remember thinking that civil rights were mostly a done deal. Martin Luther King had a dream, Rosa Parks had refused to move to the back of the bus, and there was just not much to do after the spectacular successes of the 1950s and 1960s. It’s not surprising that I had this view. I was an African American millennial growing up in the 1990s where I could see the clear difference the civil rights movement made to my life compared to my parents’ and grandparents’ childhoods. Things were undoubtedly better in the 1990s than they were in the 1940s and 1960s. I reckoned that they were bound to get even better. Essentially, I didn’t think social or political progress was possible because everything that needed to be achieved had been achieved, and I certainly didn’t think that social or political progress would depend on my efforts. We had overcome.

Looking back, the most important political lesson I’ve learned since then is to eschew the lazy thinking that progress is inevitable and that the sacrifices of the past are enough to propel us endlessly into the future. There wasn’t any particular “Aha!” moment where this realization hit me. Rather, this was a slow realization arising from my general education and maturity. I witnessed post-9/11 “extraordinary renditions”; I read Howard Zinn; I watched programs I cared about be defunded; I struggled to find employment post-recession and to pay off my student loan debt; I went on road trips with friends and met people who lived and thought about the world in a different way than I did. At each point, I was open to new points of view and to the possibility that I was wrong. Eventually, I realized that history isn’t some steady march of progress, and we’re certainly not at some final resting place. Rather, social and political progress operate on a pendulum swinging back and forth; it’s up to living people to decide how much regression they’re willing to stand and what they’re willing to sacrifice for gains.

I appreciate these lessons even more after working as a paralegal for [redacted] and [redacted]. I have seen how necessary and important our work is for the clients we represent– clients who often lack the financial, social, and political capital that might otherwise protect their substantive and procedural rights without our work.

The importance of public interest law was recently re-emphasized to me by a letter [redacted] received from a prisoner. This particular correspondent was sentenced as a juvenile to life without parole. The prisoner represented himself in an appeal and he struggled to understand exactly what a certain pending case meant for him and how he should proceed in requesting relief from the courts. He had consulted “jail-house lawyers” but turned to us for guidance because there were gaps in their knowledge. He ended his letter by saying, "please understand that I'm not trying to be a burden to you or take you away from your work. But, since the… ruling I've had nothing but sleepless nights with the realization that I will die in jail.”

Beyond the heartbreaking despair of this letter, I was struck by the fact that this man wasn’t relying on his own attorney for guidance about how to proceed. He was relying on me, my supervisors, and a hodge-podge of prison consensus. The procedural posture of his case was extremely complicated and confused even experienced lawyers in my office. If he failed to submit even one basic but required filing with any one of several courts, he could lose his right to appeal and spend the rest of his life in prison. Despite these risks, it’s likely he had learned through hard experience that he was the only reliable counsel he could obtain and trust with such important filings. It starkly demonstrated to me how we as a society have a very tenuous commitment to due process and that poor and marginalized people in this country still face serious obstacles in obtaining just outcomes in court. In short, there is still plenty of important, worthwhile legal work to be done in this country.

I’m going to law school because, as someone who has greatly benefited from the past sacrifices of others, I have an obligation to do what I can to maintain the legal and political gains of past generations. I believe that now and in the future there will be opportunities for creative and determined public interest litigators to make a difference in the lives of everyday Americans. I believe that my experience as a paralegal will be invaluable both as an attorney and as a law student; I understand the stakes of public interest litigation and I have some familiarity with the obstacles litigators and their staffs face. I enter the profession not blindly optimistic or hopeful for the future. Rather, I enter the profession knowing that there will likely be bad breaks and setbacks for myself professionally and the clients I will eventually represent. Still, because so much depends on the willingness of thinking people to speak up and do what they can, I am obliged to try.

[AnonymousAlterEgoC]

I would replace the contractions with non contradictions and reread it for grammar.

It's quite good overall. I feel it may be a little too one dimensional. Specifically, I get a heavy dose of "Why I want to go to law school" and "Why I'll make a good lawyer" but very little personal detail other than that.

It's also kind of a subtle topic changer because it starts with race and ends with society's outcasts (well, proportionally race is certainly relevant).

Regarding race, I'm not expert, but it seems kind of boilerplate. Think about this: in a personal statement, you used your first paragraph to describe something that many (perhaps most? I wouldn't go as far as "most") will experience as they mature. That's not really all that personal. You'd be better off with an anecdote that shows how you experienced a change in thought, but I'm also mindful that you might benefit from something like a diversity statement and I'm referring to possibly the easiest topic to write a diversity statement on

[cheesy145]

I think this is a good start. Maybe consider starting with the story of the juvenile sentenced to life? I think that was very interesting and would hook the reader in. The first paragraph is good just not overly engaging. Also talk less about the history of social issues vs. Real issues and more about yourself personally.

[rion91]

Good story, but first paragraph is a bit boring. It doesn't say much about you. protip: every sentence should say something about or you. if it doesn't, the next should. You could realistically cut whole first paragraph

[Anonymous User]

Anon Op here. Thanks to everyone who took the time to read and comment. I got caught up in the craziness of score release and would be remiss if I didn't thank you all.

I agree about there not being enough of the personal in it. The problem is, I'm boring and not as interesting as my work (which I really love and enjoy). I'll try and fish out some anecdotes that get a little more personal. I like the idea of cutting the first para, now that I think about it. The problem though is that I had this whole diversity statement planned (half written) where I situate me and my family in the 90s post civil rights and how our obstacles were old obstacles but some of the tools we had are no longer available to families attempting to be middle class today. I liked the tie in, but it's tricky. I take the boring and impersonal criticism to heart and will keep this in mind in revising for the next draft.

I'll clean up the contractions too.

Thanks again, folks.