At an early age, my mother instilled in me an unquenchable desire to use my privilege, where it exists, to empower the powerless. I did not grow up with wealth, and at times, I floated between single parent households; many of my peers did the same. I was raised in Richmond, Virginia which is most renowned for being the capital of the Confederate South. The legacy of slavery and racism permeated through each of my experiences as an adolescent. I had a front row seat in witnessing how various systems operate against those with similarly marginalized identities. I, myself, was delayed entry into gifted programs which were predominantly white, and I was bussed to my specialty center high school to avoid attending a school with minimal funding allocations due to the low socioeconomic makeup of my predominantly Black neighborhood. I knew since elementary school that I would pursue a career in law to advocate for equitable resources and opportunities for marginalized communities like mine. In undergrad I felt the same social isolation I felt in Richmond. I quickly got involved with several campus organizations, including the Black Student Union (BSU), with hopes of finding community and an opportunity to finally use my voice to enact change. By sophomore year, I served as Black Student Union President to combat the social isolation experienced by minoritized groups on campus. In the final years of my undergraduate experience, I worked with the Elon Administration to research and implement more equitable policies, and to embed intercultural competency education into the curriculum. As one of four student ambassadors on the Elon Strategic Planning Committee, I have anchored my advocacy for the underrepresented communities of Elon in the narratives of student experiences and in the hope for a better experience for future students from marginalized backgrounds. Through my leadership roles and while applying for the Harry S. Truman Scholarship, I discerned that my experiences, passions, skills, and goals lie at the intersection of advocacy and action. My passion for working to solve complex issues drives my desire to pursue a career in law. Likewise, the aspiration of working in law has anchored many of my undergraduate experiences in student leadership. As a law student, I have been more intentional about curating a law school experience that better fits my learning style and passions. Through my participation in the David J. Epstein Program for Public Interest Law & Policy (PILP), the Critical Race Studies (CRS) Program, and the Queer and Trans People of Color Collective (QTPOCC), I found community with like-minded law school students who are equally driven by structural change. Last summer, I served as a law clerk for the Equal Justice Society (EJS), where I conducted legal and social science research in support of impact litigation cases challenging structural racism in schools and local governing bodies. This semester, I am participating in an externship program with the Center for Public Research & Leadership (CPRL) at Columbia Law School to shape education policy and impact educational outcomes for minoritized students. These experiences have empowered me to use my voice and experiences in a legal field that regularly de-emphasizes the need for diversity of thought. I aim to use my legal education to amplify the voices of those with even more severe experiences with oppression. As I continue on this journey, I am better positioning myself to become a relentless, innovative and tactful legal advocate. I am motivated and inspired both by what lies ahead in my legal journey, and by the opportunities I hope to create for others through working towards a more equitable society.

At an early age, my mother instilled in me an unquenchable desire to use my privilege, where it exists, to empower the powerless. I did not grow up with wealth, and at times, I floated between single parent households; many of my peers did the same. I was raised in Richmond, Virginia which is most renowned for being the capital of the Confederate South. The legacy of slavery and racism permeated through each of my experiences as an adolescent. I had a front row seat in witnessing how various systems operate against those with similarly marginalized identities. I, myself, was delayed entry into gifted programs which were predominantly white, and I was bussed to my specialty center high school to avoid attending a school with minimal funding allocations due to the low socioeconomic makeup of my predominantly Black neighborhood. I knew since elementary school that I would pursue a career in law to advocate for equitable resources and opportunities for marginalized communities like mine. In undergrad I felt the same social isolation I felt in Richmond. I quickly got involved with several campus organizations, including the Black Student Union, with hopes of finding community and an opportunity to finally use my voice to enact change. By sophomore year, I served as Black Student Union President to combat the social isolation experienced by minoritized groups on campus. In the final years of my undergraduate experience, I worked with the Elon Administration to research and implement more equitable policies, and to embed intercultural competency education into the curriculum. As one of four student ambassadors on the Elon Strategic Planning Committee, I have anchored my advocacy for the underrepresented communities of Elon in the narratives of student experiences and in the hope for a better experience for future students from marginalized backgrounds. Through my leadership roles and while applying for the Harry S. Truman Scholarship, I discerned that my experiences, passions, skills, and goals lie at the intersection of advocacy and action. My passion for working to solve complex issues drives my desire to pursue a career in law. Likewise, the aspiration of working in law has anchored many of my undergraduate experiences in student leadership. As a law student, I have been more intentional about curating a law school experience that better fits my learning style and passions. Through my participation in the David J. Epstein Program for Public Interest Law & Policy, the Critical Race Studies Program, and the Queer and Trans People of Color Collective, I found community with like-minded law school students who are equally driven by structural change. Last summer, I served as a law clerk for the Equal Justice Society, where I conducted legal and social science research in support of impact litigation cases challenging structural racism in schools and local governing bodies. This semester, I am participating in an externship program with the Center for Public Research & Leadership at Columbia Law School to shape education policy and impact educational outcomes for minoritized students. These experiences have empowered me to use my voice and experiences in a legal field that regularly de-emphasizes the need for diversity of thought. I aim to use my legal education to amplify the voices of those with even more severe experiences with oppression. As I continue on this journey, I am better positioning myself to become a relentless, innovative and tactful legal advocate. I am motivated and inspired both by what lies ahead in my legal journey, and by the opportunities I hope to create for others through working towards a more equitable society.

I believe that dogs’ emotional intelligence can be superior to humans. When I was in the fifth grade, my mother bought our family a puppy, who we named Shadow. I expected Shadow’s presence to be a joyful one, filled with playfulness and glee. I was wrong. Shadow became my biggest responsibility through high school. My sisters rarely helped to walk, feed, or bathe him, so my mother and I took on most responsibilities tied to Shadow. I grew to enjoy taking care of another living being. When I felt lost, knowing that Shadow depended on me brought gravity. In return, Shadow comforted me. On my lowest days where I’d cry into my hands on the kitchen floor, Shadow sat at my feet with his head in my lap. I had very few friends in middle and high school; Shadow was my most reliable friend. My mother used to joke that Shadow was the younger brother she could never give me. To a degree, he was. When I left for undergrad, Shadow grew closer to my younger sister, who had no choice but to absorb the responsibilities I once had. The more time I spent away from home, the further Shadow grew from me. When I moved to Los Angeles for law school, I knew that Shadow would forget me. However, when I visited home for the winter holiday that year, Shadow could not contain his excitement. Knowing that my “younger brother” still loved me meant the world to a young, lost law student. This past year, my partner and I decided to get a dog of our own. We bought our Rhodesian Ridgeback, Zola, when she was just three months old. Taking care of Zola has proven to me how great of a father I will be. I’ve learned how to be patient and adjust to the needs of my dog. Unlike Shadow, who simply learned our routine and adapted, Zola required a separate routine to which we had to adapt. She is extremely smart and communicates well, but I had to pay close attention to what she was communicating in order to understand her needs. I’ve learned to accept her quirks, even those that create more work– when Zola gets too excited, she pees no matter where she is– and to appreciate her uniqueness. I’m learning that this is a skill that, when mastered, can be transformative for me as a partner, a parent, and as a lawyer in the future. When I moved to New York City as part of an externship program at Columbia, Zola soon followed. Before she, and subsequently my partner, arrived, I felt more alone than ever. I was very depressed and struggled to connect with my surroundings. Zola’s arrival brought actual tears of joy. Cuddling with her that night felt like a baptism, washing away my pains and being born anew. Though it still required time to feel comfortable here, Zola’s presence has made a significant difference in my experience. I love dogs because dogs love unashamedly. They bring comfort when you need it, and they always know when you need it most. Dogs require A LOT of patience; they go through moods and phases just as humans do. I have found that learning to love dogs properly teaches me how to love humans properly. If possible, I aspire to always have a dog in my life because they keep me grounded.