When we pulled into the driveway of the mobile home, the neighborhood was noticeably quieter than usual. The boys who usually play soccer in the empty lot next door weren’t there, nor were the bikes zipping around. I walked inside and set up the play area. As only a few kids trickled in, I felt the fear in the air and heard concerned whispers about “la migra” and “deportación.” Most of the kids who come to the weekly after school Bible and homework program are Guatemalan immigrants living in a mobile home park near my university. ICE raids had recently intensified, and all the families in the neighborhood were scared. Despite living paycheck-to-paycheck, many parents weren’t going to work out of fear. Some kids stayed home, missing school or even playing outside. With fewer kids than normal, we started reading the story from the Bible, trying to maintain some sense of normalcy without ignoring the fear I would never fully experience as a U.S. citizen. When we split into small groups, I went to a back room with my three sixth-grade girls who were there that week. I pulled out the black scratch-off paper I’d brought for us to play with, and let them draw whatever they wanted in an effort to create a space for them to express themselves. I still get emotional when I think about the signs they made, which I keep to remind me of their resilience: “[Immigrants] Make America Greater!” and “I’m American! (Don’t take me).” Their words reinforced for me the importance of advocating for vulnerable communities impacted by the law. I’ve always cared about law as a way to expand access to hope and justice for underrepresented voices in America, but that moment cemented my drive to pursue law. I’ve always loved the kids there—hearing their stories, playing games with them, and practicing Spanish with their help. Seeing how the law impacted their lives opened my eyes to the personal nature of the legal profession. Law isn’t a far-off force detached from reality; it’s a force for change in people’s lives. What I learned in theory from my classes merged with the passion I felt in practice through witnessing people’s hardships. I aspire to be a lawyer to help people successfully navigate the legal system and offer hope in turbulent situations. The passion to help people negatively affected by raids propelled me to intern with a refugee ministry in Clarkston, Georgia for ten weeks last summer. Through kids’ programs at refugee apartment complexes, I had the opportunity to build relationships with immigrant communities and families. I worked with refugees through emotional highs and lows: qualifying for rent assistance, preparing to be a parent, learning job readiness skills, interviewing for work, and landing a new job. This deepened my desire to practice law, as I saw the extent of immigration law’s impact on housing, family stability, and work. Working with refugees from over a dozen nations provided the chance to improve my problem-solving skills and cross-cultural communication, learning that the most meaningful work comes from empowering families and equipping people with the tools to address challenges on their own terms. I am a J.D. Candidate at Northwestern Pritzker School of Law, which allows me to connect classroom learning with my passion to walk alongside immigrants and refugees navigating the legal system. I want to be a lawyer who stands with vulnerable communities, and the tools I gain from Northwestern School of Law will allow me to turn my passion into effective advocacy.

When we pulled into the driveway of the mobile home, the neighborhood was noticeably quieter than usual. The boys who usually play soccer in the empty lot next door weren’t there, nor were the bikes zipping around. I walked inside and set up the play area. As only a few kids trickled in, I felt the fear in the air and heard concerned whispers about “la migra” and “deportación.” Most of the kids who come to the weekly after school Bible and homework program are Guatemalan immigrants living in a mobile home park near my university. ICE raids had recently intensified, and all the families in the neighborhood were scared. Despite living paycheck-to-paycheck, many parents weren’t going to work out of fear. Some kids stayed home, missing school or even playing outside. With fewer kids than normal, we started reading the story from the Bible, trying to maintain some sense of normalcy without ignoring the fear I would never fully experience as a U.S. citizen. When we split into small groups, I went to a back room with my three sixth-grade girls who were there that week. I pulled out the black scratch-off paper I’d brought for us to play with, and let them draw whatever they wanted in an effort to create a space for them to express themselves. I still get emotional when I think about the signs they made, which I keep to remind me of their resilience: “[Immigrants] Make America Greater!” and “I’m American! (Don’t take me).” Their words reinforced for me the importance of advocating for vulnerable communities impacted by the law. I’ve always cared about law as a way to expand access to hope and justice for underrepresented voices in America, but that moment cemented my drive to pursue law. I’ve always loved the kids there—hearing their stories, playing games with them, and practicing Spanish with their help. Seeing how the law impacted their lives opened my eyes to the personal nature of the legal profession. Law isn’t a far-off force detached from reality; it’s a force for change in people’s lives. What I learned in theory from my classes merged with the passion I felt in practice through witnessing people’s hardships. I aspire to be a lawyer to help people successfully navigate the legal system and offer hope in turbulent situations. The passion to help people negatively affected by raids propelled me to intern with a refugee ministry in Clarkston, Georgia for ten weeks this summer. Through kids’ programs at refugee apartment complexes, I had the opportunity to build relationships with immigrant communities and families. I worked with refugees through emotional highs and lows: qualifying for rent assistance, preparing to be a parent, learning job readiness skills, interviewing for work, and landing a new job. This deepened my desire to practice law, as I saw the extent of immigration law’s impact on housing, family stability, and work. Working with refugees from over a dozen nations provided the chance to improve my problem-solving skills and cross-cultural communication, learning that the most meaningful work comes from empowering families and equipping people with the tools to address challenges on their own terms. I am a J.D. Candidate at Northwestern Pritzker School of Law, which allows me to connect classroom learning with my passion to walk alongside immigrants and refugees navigating the legal system. I want to be a lawyer who stands with vulnerable communities, and the tools I gain from Northwestern School of Law will allow me to turn my passion into effective advocacy.