“Imprisonment has become the response of first resort to far too many of our social problems,” Angela Davis once wrote. During my eight-week internship in adult probation at Springfield District Court, I witnessed what happens when we pause that reflex and instead choose accountability grounded in humanity. Sitting in courtrooms and reviewing case files thick with charges, I quickly learned that behind every record was a person whose story could never be captured by a docket number alone. Before my internship, I believed probation functioned primarily as surveillance, a system focused on identifying violations rather than supporting success. My experience challenged that assumption. I saw firsthand that effective probation is rooted in relationship-building, trust, and accountability. One probation officer I shadowed explained that for many probationers, their officer is the only person they feel safe confiding in. Behind closed doors, in confidential conversations, individuals were finally able to speak honestly about their struggles, fears, and goals. Witnessing this dynamic revealed to me the profound responsibility probation officers hold, not only to enforce conditions, but to serve as stable guides during one of the most vulnerable periods of a person’s life. This experience solidified my desire to pursue a career in adult probation. I recognize the necessity of accountability within the justice system, but I also understand that many individuals enter it through pathways shaped by poverty, limited opportunity, and unresolved trauma. Regardless of the offense, every person deserves a fair chance to reintegrate into society. Denying access to employment, housing, and basic rights long after a sentence has been served perpetuates cycles of injustice and undermines public safety. True justice, I have learned, is not achieved through permanent exclusion, it is achieved by creating meaningful opportunities for people to rebuild their lives. Pursuing this goal has required significant sacrifice. Throughout my college career, I have prioritized my education, earning a place on the Dean’s List for three consecutive semesters. At the same time, I have worked continuously as a work-study assistant for my local social services department to gain professional experience while easing the financial burden of tuition. I am paying for both my associate and bachelor’s degrees independently, which has required careful budgeting, long hours, and difficult choices. Balancing academic excellence with full-time work has often meant sacrificing rest, social time, and personal comfort. That sacrifice became painfully real after I tragically lost my best friend to suicide over the summer. In my grief, I questioned whether spending so much time working and studying had been worth it. I struggled with regret and emotional exhaustion, wondering if I had missed moments that could never be reclaimed. Yet even in that darkness, I found the strength to rebuild myself. I realized that I had worked too hard, sacrificed too much, and come too far to give up. My goal is to graduate debt-free, a dream that reflects both my independence and determination. My commitment to education, resilience through hardship, and dedication to service align with the values of the Kerry Kennedy Life Is Good Scholarship. This support would allow me to continue toward my goal of becoming a probation officer, someone who works to reduce recidivism by seeing the person beyond the docket number. As a strong Black woman entering a field where people like me are often misunderstood, I am committed to leading with empathy, resilience, and purpose. My sacrifices have shaped me into someone who is prepared not only to succeed, but to uplift others along the way.

“Christina, your dad is not coming.” Those words shaped my childhood, teaching me resilience and my mother’s unwavering love. Nearly every Friday, my sister and I waited on the steps until our mother scraped us off. My mother, Joanne, is a strong, compassionate Italian-American and the hardest-working person I know. I watched her do the work of two parents for four children. She never hid life’s challenges. We saw her struggle to pay bills, commute long hours, and balance exhaustion with care. We were last picked up from daycare, ate simple dinners, and relied on each other for homework. As a child, I longed for a “perfect” family, but I realized I already had the perfect mother: a living example of perseverance, independence, and unconditional love. My mother was a teen mom, raised by Italian immigrant grandparents, raising four children alone. My father was inconsistent, often failing to show. No matter how frequently he disappointed us, my mother was always there. She never let bitterness consume her, nor did she prevent him from being part of our lives. At home, she was often stressed after long workdays. We never bought toys on a whim or spent hours with friends. During COVID, she missed holidays to work overtime after being laid off, determined to restore our stability. At the time, I felt forgotten, but now I understand every late night and missed celebration was a sacrifice for our future. As a social worker, she took us to work, exposing us to people from all walks of life. She instilled empathy with a lesson she repeated: “You never know what’s going on in someone’s life.” When she lost her job during COVID-19, she adapted, working hospital nights, training clients, and teaching spin classes. Today, my mother continues to redefine resilience. Nearly fifty, she attends law school, won a bodybuilding competition, and works at Eversource, serving her community daily. Watching her pursue goals while empowering others has shaped my character and ambitions. I now participate in a work-study program with Enfield social services. I strive to treat everyone with the same understanding and kindness I witnessed. I hope to make a lasting difference in someone’s life, just as my mother does for many people. Her determination, compassion, and integrity molded me. From her, I learned that strength is quiet, empathy is power, and perseverance can rewrite any story. These lessons guide me as I pursue a career as an adult probation officer, where I can advocate for rehabilitation, fairness, and second chances. Watching her advocate for others showed me how one person’s belief can change lives. I want to bring that compassion and purpose into my work. Those Friday nights, once filled with disappointment, now remind me of the extraordinary woman who turned hardship into hope. Because of her, I want to dedicate my life to helping others rebuild theirs. Her resilience taught me to use challenges as fuel for change. I am determined to carry her strength into my education, career, and every life I touch.