Question 1: I will begin law school in August 2024 at Stanford Law School. Question 2: In my first years of undergraduate, I learned Spanish in the classroom where success on oral and written examinations marked my most significant accomplishments. Eager to move beyond the boundaries of classroom conversation, I spent the fall of my junior year living in Quito, Ecuador. This was a transitional period between formal and informal language acquisition. I still had grammar and vocabulary lessons, but my formal coursework paralleled less structured interactions with grocery store attendants and taxi drivers. I was learning formal verb tenses alongside slang. I was learning new ways of being with and in a language. Through Spanish, I have pursued avenues for impacting individuals who fall beyond the scope of legal priority. As an SEO Fellow is Houston, Texas, it has been a personal and professional priority to work on pro bono cases. One of these cases is a small estate affidavit for a woman who recently lost her partner. Each time, speaking to this client in Spanish, I am returned to why I applied to law school, and why–despite the inevitable, forthcoming challenges–I want to be a lawyer. This is a service profession, and I am so glad that I am able to direct my personal interest in language toward the service of others. Question 3: Garrett entered my life from 2,000 miles away. In the same month Garrett was transferred from his biological mother’s care, across a shortlist of auxiliary family members, and into the care of my aunt, I was rushing for sorority placement and preparing for final exams. When my aunt called to inform me that Garrett was her temporary foster child, I had nothing to share beyond words of encouragement. She shared the news, the challenges with the caseworkers and the biological family, and I listened. I did not, in those final weeks as a freshman away at college, anticipate how quickly 2,000 miles would close to fit the shape of Garrett’s hand in mine. By the time I moved from Illinois back home to Oregon, it was clear Covid-19 would prevent me from returning to campus for my sophomore year of undergraduate. It was also clear that my aunt, who struggles with her health, was overwhelmed by Garrett’s needs. Garrett was four at the time, and he required regular visits with his mother. More than weekly visits, Garrett required the daily care, attention, love, guidance, baths, outside time, bedtime stories, back scratches and breakfast, lunch, and dinner that make childhood a secure and joyful time. My aunt could not provide that care on her own. Instead, I was asked to spend my sophomore year living with my aunt, taking my regular course load virtually, and supplementing Garrett’s safekeeping. I knew this decision would negatively affect me in the sense that I would forfeit my free time, my rest, and my academic performance. I knew this decision required a radical reorganization of my priorities. I also knew this was a request for help I could not turn my back on. I now reflect on the year I spent home in Oregon, with Garrett, and am brought to a place of immense, immeasurable gratitude. I am grateful to know how it feels to hold the most tender being in my arms and feel his lungs push the weight of his heart towards the stars. I am grateful to know how to clip someone else’s fingernails and toenails and to watch a tough, growing, beautiful little brain learn the days of the week. I am grateful to have known Garrett when he was young, and I am grateful for the lessons of grit, patience, and faith I took away from that experience. Question 4: I would like to create an initiative dedicated to poetry education. Poetry is a literary form that requires attention and return. In times when efficiency is hyper-prioritized, the idea that a piece of art can demand time and slow attention is discomforting. Still, that discomfort is necessary. It helps us to better understand who we are as emotional and intellectual individuals and as in community with others. I cannot imagine a better way to improve community than through an investment in mindfulness, literacy, and reflection. This is done by investing in the creation and reception of poetry. By learning the language of poetry, we can better learn the language of kinship.