LSAT: 168
GPA: 3.6 (Top-10 Liberal Arts)
Non-URM
TFA
Applying to: UPenn, UVA, Duke, Northwestern, Michigan, Cornell, Vanderbilt, GULC (and maybe some of the T6 just because)
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I spent the first eight years of my life in a blurry world. I did not realize it at the time; it was all I knew. I watched movies through squinted eyes and pressed books against my face just so I could see the words on the page. While this seemed normal to me, because I had never known anything else, my parents grew concerned and scheduled an appointment with the eye doctor. It turned out that my vision was deteriorating. I came home that day with a new pair of wireframe glasses that, figuratively as well as literally, improved my outlook on life and shaped who I would become as an adult.
Although glasses cleared up much of what I saw around me, in other ways they caused me to struggle with the idea of perspective. I had lived my entire life believing the leaves on the trees looked one way, only to find out I had a fraction of the understanding that others had. As if poor vision was not burdensome enough, I felt embarrassed by my obliviousness. My brother—who still boasts of his better-than-perfect eyesight—had all the same experiences as me, but processed them differently. I began to wonder, “Did every individual see things in his or her own way? Did anything exist in a universal, unbiased state outside of one’s individual perspective?” These were difficult questions for an eight-year-old to ask, let alone answer.
I did not realize it at the time, but this revelation shaped my attitude towards future experiences. I began to think less in terms of absolute truths and more in terms of individual viewpoints. This led me to become more inquisitive, posing hypotheticals and offering unconventional explanations in class. Most importantly, I developed an appreciation for listening to those around me. Instead of fearing what was different—an all too common mindset in middle school—I embraced the eclectic offerings of those around me. My peers saw the world in their own unique way, and listening to them broadened my perspective as well.
I tried assessing situations from different vantage points and took pride in the fact that I could find value in other people’s perspectives. I developed an almost arrogant sense of self-confidence, fearlessly seeking leadership roles and fighting for causes that affected a diverse group of people. I was successful in the vast majority of my endeavors throughout high school and college, which, like a gambler on a hot streak, gave me a false sense of invincibility.
This hot streak ended during my junior year at XXXXXXX College, a liberal arts college affiliated with the XXXXXXX Church for nearly two hundred years. When the school formed a committee to find a new President of the college, a disgruntled alumnus noted that the college charter required the President to be a practicing member of the XXXXXXX Church. He brought forth the issue to the Board of Trustees, claiming that the bylaw was both antiquated and not representative of the inclusive community the school strives to be.
When the Board of Trustees announced that they did not find “sufficient support for any particular change,” I was surprised, disappointed, and sure that the Board was not adequately listening to the opinions of the greater community. I launched a campaign entitled “Sufficient Support,” complete with a website that offered students, alumni, parents, staff, and faculty a place to submit their stories about how they valued inclusivity. Students could sign petitions, share statistics, and conveniently send emails directly to the Board of Trustees. The purpose of this campaign was to demonstrate that there was sufficient support for change— support that the Board could see.
The campaign disrupted the complacency of XXXXXXX's relationship with the Church. It resulted in official statements in support of change from the student body, the faculty, and the alumni board. A respected professor of religion and elder of the XXXXXXX Church wrote an article arguing that the inclusive nature of XXXXXXXism would be more apparent in changing the bylaw than in keeping it. Local news outlets picked up our mission and the number of signatures exceeded one thousand.
Despite the overwhelming support from the people I saw on a daily basis, I had become a target for the more conservative and vocal members of the community who felt I was attempting to secularize, and therefore ruin, the school. Mentors of mine criticized me and told me to abandon the idea. I received letters and emails threatening me and demanding that I cease the “demoralization of XXXXXXX.” “If you don’t like it here,” one wrote, “why don’t you just get the hell out.” The truth was that I loved this school as much as anyone did, and that the community had already changed; nine out of ten students were not XXXXXXX. From my perspective, the Board had sent an insulting message: that although non-XXXXXXXs were allowed in their community, they were not worthy of leading it.
As of now, the bylaw has not changed. In that sense, the campaign was not successful. However, in starting this conversation, I was able to convey my perspective to other factions of the XXXXXXX Community. The Board created a permanent committee to continue the discussion of religious affiliation, allotting two spots for student representatives. Board members came to visit and thanked me for giving them the opportunity to discuss important issues with students. The largely secular student body does not often engage with the more religious Board of Trustees. If I had taken the threats seriously and given up on Sufficient Support, this would not have happened.
More importantly, I gained a valuable perspective from those fighting to keep the bylaw intact. While I did not agree with their view, talking with them made me see the merit in their reasoning. In that sense, I had gotten ahead of myself, and had not taken the time to fully understand the institution I was going up against.
It’s easy to forget that we spend each day looking at the world through a filter. Whether it is from our experiences, our biases, or our overly curved corneas, we see things from our own narrow perspective. Just like a new pair of glasses, an appreciation for others’ perspectives can allow us to recognize the limits of our reality. My goal has been, and will continue to be, to seek other viewpoints, understand their merit, and formulate a more holistic view. Important issues are not as clear-cut as they might seem, and a more complete understanding of a problem can lead to a more plausible solution.
