TJ Crowson Memorial Scholarship

I overslept again, delaying the inevitable moment of departure one second at a time. The plan, disrupted by tardiness, aimed for a swift farewell at the bus station. Amidst tearful goodbyes, I was overwhelmed by the weight of separation from my loved ones as well as my home country of Georgia. As my mother and I embarked on our journey to the United States, the quiet realization that the worst lay ahead at the Mexico-US border was slowly starting to sink in. To make the voyage less painful, I was advised to treat it like a movie. I was in the audience, as a fourteen-year-old girl pleaded with border patrol to declare asylum; as she was denied a legal procedure at multiple ports of entry; as she spent five days in a cell with women, and their children, some not even a-year-old who endured a similar path. Five days, but a lifetime of injustice. During our asylum interview, the officer immediately told us we would be transferred to another detention center. After asking how long we would have to stay there, he told us "a few days." Days turned into weeks, and weeks turned into months during our time at the South Texas Family Residential Center. Every night at the facility a security guard would drop off notices to the residents’ rooms. One night we got a notice from what was referred to as "El Centro de Abogados," the center where you could go to speak with a volunteer attorney. The attorneys all worked for the CARA Project, a pro bono organization dedicated to helping detained migrants and reforming the immigration system. The next day, my mother and I stepped into a room full of busy, ambitious, yet burnt-out lawyers trying to assist an overwhelming number of detainees. Our appointed attorney went over the process with us: interviews, hearings, right to an interpreter, and the expected timeline. "Do you have any questions?" He asked. "We were told we would only be here for a few days," I said anxiously. "That is a lie," he responded reluctantly. In a place built by dishonesty and injustice, it was refreshing to see people committed to transparency and compassion. Over time the CARA project attorneys ensured we had proper resources and representation throughout the whole journey. As draining as their job likely was, it was temporary. They were working to close the detention center, they were working to be jobless. My education in the legal field is galvanized by millions of immigrants, who have been exploited, crucified, and discarded in similar ways. My education is for their justice, as I am among the few lucky ones who made it to the self-proclaimed “land of opportunities.” The land built by the underpaid, backbreaking labor of second-class citizens. What I have learned from my mother, along with other inspiring refugee women and legal practitioners, is when you’re lucky it is your duty to give back and uplift the communities that sheltered you, and whose name you proudly carry. I am Liza Tsertsvadze, a Georgian-American asylum-seeker, and my broader understanding of legal studies and international affairs will forever be used to alleviate the suffering of my namesake.

As a kid, I was often told that I'd "make a great lawyer". I always took this as a compliment, but as I've grown, I've learned it actually meant "Wow this little kid is argumentative and loud." Even though I understand now that this compliment was slightly backhanded, I'll take it. Law is an honorable profession. I spent many years as a child, as so many of us have, and while I was a child I developed a passion for politics. I would go to protests with my family during Moral Mondays, a protest movement led by Rev. William Barber here in Raleigh, NC. These protests were focused on injustices in our state like gerrymandering and voter suppression. As a child, I didn't fully understand what we were protesting, but as a I grew, so did my interest and understanding. The more I understood, the more opinionated I got, which only contributed to being called a "little lawyer." As I continued to be told I'd "make a good lawyer", and continued to learn more about politics, specifically criminal justice, I began seriously consider law as a career. The Constitution guarantees a right to a defense, among many other rights for the accused. While many who don't understand the legal system seem to resent this fact, anyone who thinks about this issue will realize how necessary it is. It is incredibly easy for a government (especially one that now has the power of modern technology) to oppress and subjugate its citizens through flimsy prosecutions and abusive police tactics, which we saw in the Jim Crow South, the USSR, China, and modern Russia, among other despotic states. Any democratic system that would like to survive needs a strong legal system, and that means that defendants must have a strong defense and an expert counsel who can lead them through the complexities of the law, or else anyone can be imprisoned. If criminals can be imprisoned without a fair trial, so can innocent people. Without a good public defender, many defendants from poor and marginalized communities would have no way of defending themselves from poorly thought-out prosecutions, extreme or unnecessary punishment, or even false imprisonment. This is why I aspire to be a public defender (despite my family's slight disappointment that I'll only be a lawyer, not a lawyer, and also very wealthy). Public defenders and criminal defense attorneys more broadly, who are widely maligned in media like Law and Order and other police procedurals as obstructing the justice that law enforcement so benevolently seeks, are actually vital to the preservation and defense of justice. I'd set my sights on a career as a lawyer long before the Dobbs decision a few years back, but as our extremist Supreme Court has made that decision and so many other extreme positions law, it's been made more and more clear. Legislators don't truly make the law anymore in this country, lawyers do. Judges, make laws, while congresspeople argue on cable TV. It's now more vital than ever that good lawyers who believe in real justice and freedom are present and stand up to fight for what's right. I hope that when I complete my education, I'm able to improve our world by ensuring that even poor people and minorities in Southeast Raleigh can get the same good defense in court as the wealthy of Oakwood could. I hope that, if the call ever came, I could use my skills to defend what's right and just in the world, and protect our most sacred rights.

The town of Aurora, North Carolina, holds a special place in my heart. Nestled amidst picturesque landscapes, it has been home to generations of families and hardworking individuals who have weathered both challenges and triumphs. However, the negligent mining practices of the phosphate company have left scars on this once-thriving community. Through my pursuit of a legal education, I am committed to being a beacon of change, empowering Aurora to rebuild, thrive, and attract investment for a brighter future. As I embark on my journey in law, my primary goal is to address the aftermath of these negligent mining practices. I envision a comprehensive legal strategy aimed at holding the phosphate company accountable for its actions. By engaging in environmental advocacy and litigation, I will seek justice for the people of Aurora who have endured the consequences of reckless industrial practices. Through legal channels, I will advocate for stricter regulations, compensation for damages, and the implementation of sustainable mining practices to prevent further harm. Beyond the courtroom, I am determined to be a catalyst for community empowerment and transformation. Collaborating with local residents, stakeholders, and experts, I will initiate educational campaigns to raise awareness about environmental rights and the potential economic benefits of responsible industrial practices. By fostering a sense of collective ownership, I aspire to empower the people of Aurora to actively participate in shaping the future of their town. Aurora's potential for revitalization lies not only in rectifying past wrongs but also in diversifying its economic landscape. Through strategic legal advocacy, I will attract the attention of potential investors who are committed to ethical and sustainable business practices. By negotiating partnerships and incentives for eco-friendly industries, I aim to transform Aurora into an attractive destination for responsible capital investment. This infusion of resources will create new job opportunities, stimulate local businesses, and drive economic growth. To ensure the success of this ambitious endeavor, I plan to collaborate closely with local government officials, environmental organizations, and economic development agencies. By leveraging my legal expertise and forging partnerships, I will create a united front dedicated to the revival of Aurora. Through town hall meetings, workshops, and community engagement initiatives, I will empower the residents to actively participate in the revitalization process and contribute their valuable insights. In conclusion, my education in law is not just a personal pursuit; it is a means to a greater end – the rejuvenation of Aurora, North Carolina. By holding accountable those responsible for the town's decline, raising awareness about environmental rights, and attracting responsible investment, I am committed to leading the charge towards a brighter future for Aurora. Together, we can rewrite the narrative of Aurora from a desolate town to a thriving hub of opportunity and hope.