As the son of a criminal investigator, I have always been interested in justice and dreamed of becoming a lawyer, which I eventually did become in my hometown – Hong Kong – after years of studying and training. However, my excitement was short-lived, as I soon found myself embroiled in a political turmoil that tested my determination to do justice and resist derogations of our rights and freedoms. Hong Kong used to be one of the places in Asia with the most freedom, but those freedom has been derogated at an unparalleled rate since its people protested a bill about to be passed by its legislature in 2019 that would put their right to a fair trial in jeopardy. Millions took to the street every week that year, despite the police repeatedly arresting tens of thousands of protesters violently and depriving them of the right to legal representation. Infuriated by the administration's flagrant disregard for fundamental rights, I decided to utilize my legal expertise and volunteered to advise the protesters. Moonlighting as a volunteer for arrested protesters required working late into the night and early morning after a full day of work. Every time, I waited at the police station for hours before I could interview the arrestees, a tactic officers used to frustrate my work. They would neglect their protocol, refuse to show their badges, and claim that there was no room available for interviewing. When I was finally allowed to meet the arrestees, they all had given statements without legal representation and told me the same story: they were detained in an ice-cold room, prevented from contacting their lawyers, and verbally harassed by officers to coerce their statements. Facing fervent resistance from its people, the administration declared an emergency and used emergency power in an unprecedented manner – evicting opposition from the legislature and enacting a 100%-conviction law that provides for a presumption against bail, minimum sentence, and trial by hand-picked judges. Those who contributed to the pro bono service for the protesters were wanted and prosecuted. It was no longer safe for anyone to impede the administration’s use of its powers nor express their resentment towards the government. As more and more former legislators and lawyers were persecuted, I started having difficulty falling asleep and even if I could, sometimes in the depth of night, I would be jarred out of sleep by repeated hard knocks on my door, only pausing long enough for someone to shout, “POLICE. OPEN THE DOOR. We have the warrant to enter.” Terrified and lying on the bed with my eyes closed, I could feel myself drenched in sweat and breathing heavily. I would take a few seconds to gather the wherewithal and mentally prepare myself to get up and meet my fate. But every time, the knocking would cease whenever I opened my eyes, and I would be greeted by an empty hallway. Without a fair judicial system that respects people’s rights, my career and personal liberty were in jeopardy. I was forced to reckon with the question – What good can I do in a prison cell? Eventually, my concern for the potential consequences of serving my conscience overcame my love for my hometown. I decided that I had to leave so that I could live by my values without fear. Hence, I started my 3-year journey to immigrate to America, a place where I can stay true to my values without fear. Undeterred by my traumatic experiences, my desire to fight for our rights and freedoms remained strong, and getting back into the legal profession became my utmost priority. I revisited what drove me to the US, re-read my diary and reached out to people I partnered with during the protest to develop my personal statement for law school applications. Introspecting on this calamitous past was an arduous process. I would sometimes find myself quietly shedding tears when I recall scenes of the distraught, bloodied, and incontinent arrestees in a frigid room, stuttering and stammering as they tell their accounts of abuse. It was equally difficult to begin a conversation with those who went through the same ordeal since I am unsure how prepared are we to share our experience, and how their stories would trigger my emotions. Despite the challenges, this soul-searching phase allowed me to confirm my motivation for going to law school again in the US, but more importantly, reminded me of my dream and called my attention to the importance of being resolute and resilient. As I finalize my personal statement and affirm my ambition in the process, I became more committed to my goal of becoming an advocate for our rights and better at recovering when faced with changes and setbacks. As a person who studied law abroad, I am familiar with the difficulty in navigating this 3-year journey. The perseverance required to stay away from distractions and excel in law school is phenomenal. This challenge is further complicated by the fact that I only immigrated to the US last year and will be adapting to life in my new homeland as I attend law school. The unique situation I am in means that the hurdles I will be facing during my transition to law school are going to be exceptional. However, as Thomas Edison once said, genius is 1% inspiration and 99% perspiration. With my re-discovered grit and dedication, I am sure that I have the mental strength to maintain motivation even when I found the assignments tedious, stay focused on the work that should be prioritized, find ways to overcome obstacles that would otherwise derail my plan to become a public interest lawyer in the US and be supple when unexpected troubles do occur. When the going gets tough, the tough get going. The barriers to my success are far from insurmountable and I am certain that, with the tenacity and devotion I regained during my application process, I will survive and thrive in an environment as demanding as law school.