Throughout my legal career, I hope to be able to serve justice on a broad scale. As basic as it sounds, it is truly my biggest motivation for entering the field, and I cannot think of anything else that would push me to pursue international law. Being the first in my family to attend law school in the United States, and coming from a country where I am treated as a second class citizen, I am passionate about an equal application of justice across borders. To begin with, I come from a place where my family has never been recognized as full citizens, despite them being native to the land. Even having a U.S. citizenship, I am unable to fly into my country directly and must instead go through checkpoints and longer roads specific to my ethnicity. Seeing this in the summers since childhood has served as a continuous reminder of the privileges many allow to go unrecognized. In other words, this has undoubtedly made me hyper aware of the prevalence of injustice around the world, and as a result gave me an increased sense of urgency to act upon when choosing my career. Being a woman in a Middle Eastern family has also unfortunately influenced me. First, it was witnessing female family friends who turned down full rides for no reason other than the shame of moving out single. Then, it was working two jobs in high school because my father was not willing to pay my application fees. Finally, it was attending community college for that same reason. I began to understand the importance of the independence that my mother told me she wished for. I became passionate about self sustainability after seeing a dependent situation trap so many women I love. While that aspect of my identity now drives me to do more, that was not always the case. I once allowed this to dampen my spark when it came to academics and my general aspirations. After looking at my transcript for just a few minutes, one can see significant progress from my transfer credits when I first began college, and my last few semesters. With that evidence, I can safely say that my ability to witness wrongdoings and injustice, and use them as motivation rather than as long-term setbacks, is the strength I need and now know I possess to allow me to serve justice on a broad scale. I now have obtained my B.A. at just 19 with nothing less than a 4.0 since I transferred from community college. I have made the President’s list every semester, and managed to get an internship in the House of Representatives this past spring, despite being told that my career should always come second, and being asked about marriage more frequently than my tangible accomplishments. I continue to be passionate about justice for all and aspire to be someone who can help the world work towards that.

Over the past few semesters, I have been able to make extreme academic progress. From starting my undergraduate journey as a mediocre student at community college, to now finishing my last semester on Capitol Hill, I can safely say that my approach to my education has changed for the better. Next semester, I will become the first in my family to attend law school in the United States. Coming from a country where I am treated as a second class citizen, I am excited to be able to get closer to pursuing what I am most passionate about: an equal application of justice across borders. First I should start with what's most important. I am Palestinian, meaning I am from a place where my family has never been recognized as full citizens, despite being native to the land. Even having a U.S. citizenship, I am unable to fly into my country directly and must instead go through checkpoints and longer roads specific to my ethnicity. Seeing this in the summers since childhood has served as a continuous reminder of the privileges many in the states may allow to go unrecognized. In other words, my experiences back home have undoubtedly made me hyper aware of the prevalence of injustice around the world, and as a result gave me an increased sense of urgency to act upon when choosing my career. Being a woman in a Middle Eastern family has also unfortunately positively influenced me, as paradoxical as it sounds. First, I witnessed female family friends turning down full rides for no reason other than the shame of moving out single. Then, I worked two jobs in high school and attended community college because my father was not willing to pay my application fees. As unpleasant as these moments in my life may have been, they allowed me to understand the importance of the independence that my mother told me she wished for. I became passionate about self sustainability after seeing a dependent situation trap so many women I love. While that aspect of my identity now drives me to do more, that was not always the case. I once allowed this to dampen my spark when it came to academics and my general aspirations. After looking at my transcript for just a few minutes, one can see significant progress between my transfer credits when I first began college, and my last few semesters. With that evidence, I am finally able to explain how this has positively impacted me. My ability to witness wrongdoings and injustice, and use them as motivation rather than as long-term setbacks, is the strength I need and now know I possess to allow me to serve justice on a broad scale. I now have obtained my B.A. at just 19 with nothing less than a 4.0 since I transferred from community college. I have made the President’s list every semester, and managed to get an internship in the House of Representatives this past spring, despite being told that my career should always come second, and being asked about marriage more frequently than my tangible accomplishments. I continue to be passionate about justice for all and aspire to be someone who can help the world work towards that. I hope you can consider me a good candidate for this scholarship, as it would truly help guarantee that I would have the resources necessary to follow through with my passions, and that I would be able to help others like me as a result. Thank you for your time and consideration.

My choice to go into public policy is a unique outcome of my background. Growing up in Texas as a Palestinian American woman, I feel comfortable saying I have witnessed injustice in this field in many forms. However, my understanding of said injustice has deepened further throughout my years of undergraduate studies. Learning about power dynamics and biases in court and law in general has made me more confident in my ability to work around them. Being a woman in a Middle Eastern family has undoubtedly influenced me. First, it was witnessing female family friends who turned down full rides for no reason other than the shame of moving out single. Then, it was working two jobs in high school because my father was not willing to pay my application fees. I began to understand the importance of the independence that my mother told me she wished for. I became passionate about self-sustainability after seeing a dependent situation trap so many I love. Public policy has failed me quite a few times. In Texas, that failure takes the form of decisions regarding welfare and bodily autonomy. In Palestine, it’s something I have to experience every time I drive up to the border and go through checkpoints, or have a 1 hour drive turned 3 because certain ethnicities are banned from certain roads, or when I watch all the men in my family get interrogated before prayer, or finally when I hear and see combat boots in my place of worship on what I thought was a regular day. It is for these countless witnesses and experiences growing up that I feel very passionate about public policy and the protections it’s meant to ensure, especially at the international level. Going into undergrad for international studies, I noticed a recurring theme. Despite the countless conferences, conventions, discussions, declarations, policies, or protocols, it almost seems as though policies exist in an educated, yet isolated world that assumes a declaration of what should be done will change what occurs on a daily basis. Unfortunately, the most thought-provoking question that could be asked in most of my classes was: what measures have been taken to ensure this will be implemented? For that reason, I hope to be able to enter international law and be able to keep in mind the application of theories and laws when analyzing or criticizing them. Finally, minoring in economics was something I was hesitant to do, but it has brought to my attention more aspects of public policy that are crucial to consider. For instance, behavioral economics taught me about how the biases of individuals can cascade down to the government, giving me a better understanding of how that might lead to injustice. This broader understanding of biases combined with my background of witnessing injustice has made me very passionate about public policy and its potential to improve. From here, I only hope that I can put my foot in the world of public policy for the better.

My name is Aya Abuhijleh, and I am a senior at the University of North Texas. I am currently applying to law school and just got accepted into American University's Washington College of Law. There are many ways in which my identity as a Palestinian has affected my educational and career goals, so I will start from the beginning. Growing up, my family moved around a lot. I was born in the United States to a Nabulsi father and Khalili mother. Shortly after I was born, we moved to Kuwait and then the UAE because my father feared the loss of my sister and I's Arab identity. However, after 5 years in the UAE, we had to come back to the US because of difficulties finding a job for my father, who was not an Emirati National. After moving back to the US at the age of 7, I continued my education while my father sought out jobs in the Arab world. As you can guess by my university name, things didn't go as planned, and we are still here. Growing up in Texas, I quickly found out that many of my peers and teachers did not support liberation as my friends did overseas. The isolation, arguments, and frustration that grew from my identity as a Palestinian in a conservative state fueled my desire to advocate for justice. This desire was especially amplified by my father, who's family fell victim to the Nakba, and who always stressed the importance of education for Palestinians. He always made sure we visited the West Bank when we could, and my mother made sure I maintained my Palestinian ID and paperwork, regardless of the checkpoints or inconveniences it caused me to endure. My visits always kept my identity as a strong reminder of my purpose. Even as things have escalated recently, many of my relatives refuse to leave Palestine, feeling strongly about their connection to the land. It is for that reason that I feel I must act with Palestine in mind to justify and account for mine and my parents' displacement. Going into college, I decided to major in international studies. Throughout my years of undergrad, I noticed a recurring theme. Despite the countless conferences, conventions, declarations, policies, or protocols discussed in my international relations classes, it almost felt as though those policies existed in the isolated world of education, rather than one where their implications could be seen and experienced by those they were meant to aid. At the end of my undergraduate years, I got an internship, which I am currently almost done with. I am working in the US House of Representatives, and it has been an interesting journey considering my heritage. It is such an odd feeling to witness the creation of Zionist policies, and then go back home and see their implementation, all while hearing about the American values of freedom, liberty, and justice. I am also in the process of applying to law schools for international law. I feel very passionately about ending the contradiction that exists between policy and reality around the world. Although it may have never been part of the plan for me to stay in the US, I believe it is one of the few places where I have the power to make change and take larger strides towards liberation. Every day, just by interacting with people who may have never heard a Palestinian voice, I gain more support for real justice. In general, I hope to be able to enter either foreign diplomacy or international law after law school. My identity as a Palestinian has not only impacted my journey, but it has been the reason I am still pursuing it. The existence of my heritage serves as a daily reminder of the privilege I have to be able to attend school, pursue my career, or even just live. I hope to be able to use that privilege for a greater cause for the rest of my life.