“I’m adding a rule that I get two turns now!” Trying to suppress a laugh, I countered “That’s not how it works!” The boy squealed, “All you said was that if we win three games we all get piggyback rides on the playground!!” This past summer, I was a volunteer at a camp for children who were victims of domestic violence. I was in charge of a rambunctious group of seven and eight-year-olds. They often had sudden outbursts of emotions, and would mimic the physical abuse and aggressive behavior that they experienced at home. Getting to know these children and their struggles gave me a new perspective on the extent of people’s hidden suffering, and the impact I can have in my future as a lawyer by committing to help those who haven't enjoyed the privilege of the law on their side. When emotional outbursts arose with these kids, I acted more like a “big brother” than a teacher. I did not punish their behavior or exclude them for their outbursts. Instead, I worked through these situations with the children, encouraging them to talk through their emotions and showing them how to be resilient in the face of triggering situations. One approach was to help the children identify the physical manifestations of their anger. I would ask, “Where do you feel your anger? In your arms? Your chest? Your head?” Once they identified the body part, we practiced distancing ourselves from the anger by asking and answering questions like, “What just happened?” and “How do we feel?” We also used calming techniques such as breathing meditation to help our body parts feel normal again. While I initially feared that my lessons would go in one ear and out the other, the children proved me wrong. After one demonstration of how to show compassion to others who were “having a bad day,” I witnessed many of the children sharing their food with each other, so much so that one child created a whole giveaway restaurant with treats he brought from home. And a few days after our lesson on recognizing angry body parts, another child, without being prompted, told me, “My arms are angry.” He sat out with me for a bit, and left when his arms felt calm again. This was a genuine improvement from weeks prior, when I had to wrestle him away from fistfights with other children. More than any other time in my life, I had a real opportunity to change the destinies of other people. I know that the children’s struggles didn’t end when they left camp, but I was able to equip them with tools to help them cope with their extraordinary challenges. Having this direct impact has moved me towards a future in the same vein: advocating for those whose suffering is not being adequately addressed by our legal system.