Public service taught me how to find myself within my community when undiagnosed depression and anxiety stripped me of my individuality. At 17, amidst a depressive spell, volunteerism became an outlet for my happiness. When other obligations—schoolwork, socializing, and family get-togethers—felt impossible, weekends spent in the comfort of my community fulfilled me. From volunteering as a museum docent to working at food banks, I quickly realized how wonderful life could be if only I varied my experiences; public service then became a core part of who I am. I continued my passion for service when I started university. I chartered a Feminist Club on my college campus, known as theslufeminist, with the principal goal of benefiting the greater community in female-centered causes. While we regularly plan events targeted towards our peers, like hosting guest speakers to lecture the student body on their fields of expertise, our work is mainly oriented towards off-campus initiatives. For example, I created a partnership with a local Girl Scouts troop that had been looking for ways to connect with older, female role models. After speaking with troop leaders, I put together groups of interested club members to attend the meetings and help with activities and logistics. My commitment to public service remains embedded in the philosophy of my leadership—by facilitating opportunities for members to become involved outside of the college campus, I hope to leave a lasting legacy of broader community engagement. After I graduate, I hope to continue serving others by becoming a public interest lawyer. Through work at an NGO or non-profit, I will benefit vulnerable women and children in dire situations. Growing up, my mother suffered domestic violence at the hands of my father. Even though her safety was at risk, she stayed in an abusive marriage because she didn’t have the financial resources to leave, and she wanted to give her children a ‘normal’ childhood with two parents. But her lifeforce seemed to drain from her the longer she was tied to my father—something I noticed as I got older. Finally, the hostility between my parents peaked in April 2024, when my father was arrested and charged with domestic violence. The event, though horribly traumatic for everyone involved, finally catalyzed the divorce. Still, I saw how my mother struggled to pay lawyer fees and separate herself from the man who had brutalized her for the past 24 years. I don’t think anyone should live like that. To me, justice is not abstract, but rather, it’s the ability for people to reclaim control over their own lives. It’s what my mother deserved long before the courts became involved, and what countless others are still waiting for. For this reason, I will dedicate my law career to helping women, like my mother, and children, like me, become legally free from their abusers. While working on cases of sexual violence, domestic abuse, or human trafficking, I hope to make the legal system more accessible for those who have been silenced by fear or poverty. Public service once helped me find myself; now, I hope to use institutions and legislation to help others do the same. I want to stand beside women and children at the most vulnerable moments of their lives and remind them that safety, dignity, and happiness are not luxuries. Instead, they are rights. Every case I take, every voice I help restore, will be my way of honoring the women who never got the chance to be heard. Through the law, I will turn survival into strength and service into justice.