At the age of 12, I was exposed to our legal system when my aunt was fighting for custody of my cousins. I attended every court hearing, where I witnessed how my aunt's lack of financial resources forced her to represent herself at court appearances without proper counsel. Nervously sitting in every court hearing as my palms filled with sweat and my stomach with anxiety, the unfairness I witnessed—my aunt losing all four of her children—sparked my desire to pursue a career in the legal field as an attorney. Though I did not know what area of law I wanted to practice, I knew I wanted to help others like my aunt, who fell victim to an unfavorable court decision because of her meager earnings. Six years later, my seventeen-year-old cousin, Anthony, was murdered. His death filled me with so many emotions. I was angry and depressed, but most importantly, I wanted justice for his death. I lost someone I knew my entire life in the blink of an eye, someone I celebrated every birthday with and saw as my little brother. My cousin's death and the opportunity to attend preliminary court hearings for his case defined the area of law I want to practice. It made me realize I want to study criminal law and help families like mine seek justice for their loved ones. Despite how emotionally painful my cousin’s death was, it drove me to major in Legal Studies at American University (AU) as part of the 3-year Politics, Policy and Law Scholars Program. I became passionate about really understanding the law and legal procedures, hoping that one day I could be in a position to help others facing similar situations as mine. I thought prosecuting individuals for their wrongdoings, so long it was in a just and nonprejudicial manner, was the career I wanted to pursue. However, taking courses like “Survey of Criminal Justice,” “Justice Reform,” and “Justice and Public Policy'' exposed me to grave issues in our criminal justice system and the inequalities that immigrants who have been charged with a crime face. The courses at AU reminded me of my aunt’s experience with the courts and connected me back to my family, who emigrated from El Salvador. With the void of my cousin still in my heart and my education at AU corroborating my aunt's experiences, I realized that I wanted to tackle pervasive issues in immigration and criminal courts that disproportionately affect immigrants. Having found a connection between criminal and immigration law and coupling it with my immigrant family’s background encouraged me to intern with Capital Area Immigrants’ Rights Coalition (CAIR) to help detained immigrants with pro-bono legal representation. I volunteered with attorneys and worked on defending individuals with past criminal histories who faced immigration removal proceedings. At CAIR, I was empowered to be part of the solution to inequalities I am no stranger to. I began understanding public policy's critical role in creating laws that disproportionately impact immigrants in our criminal and immigration courtrooms. What struck me the most was that all the individuals we represented were not entitled to legal representation. A commonality among immigrants I have worked with is that many are forced to take plea deals that strip their legal status or make them deportable. These plea deals are misleading as they appear to bring favorable short-term consequences. In reality, they are a common tactic used by prosecuting attorneys to move the cases as fast as possible while bringing adverse long-term implications. If any of the immigrants I helped defend had the financial resources to hire a lawyer to defend themselves rigorously through their criminal and initial immigration proceedings, they would not have been forced to take unfair plea deals. If my aunt had the financial means to represent herself effectively, would she have lost her four children to her ex-husband? I recognized that representation mattered in the courtrooms, that regardless of the lack of financial resources, individuals should have the right to free of charge and effective counsel. Representation and true justice should not be limited to a society that can afford it. With an understanding of the implications criminal law may have on immigrants, I have found that representation in the courtroom is not enough to address the unfairness faced by thousands. As I represent underprivileged immigrants in court, I will continue to get involved with established organizations that shine light on the responsibilities of institutions and key policymakers to better understand how the intersection of law and policy affects immigrant communities dear to me. My experiences working with immigration attorneys and the limitations I’ve witnessed in the legal profession propelled me to focus on criminal-immigration law, where I will be vocal and introduce inclusive ideas to bring policies that serve underrepresented, marginalized, and targeted immigrant communities.