Ned S. Kalata I want to build a career where people feel heard, especially during moments when they feel overwhelmed, ignored, or uncertain about their future. My experiences overcoming a stutter and working with incarcerated clients showed me how important communication and trust can be, and they ultimately shaped my decision to pursue law school. As I prepare to begin at Suffolk University Law School in August 2026, I hope to build a future centered on advocacy, empathy, and service. When I was younger, I developed a stutter that made speaking in front of people intimidating. Suddenly, even simple conversations made me anxious because I never knew whether the words would come out the way I intended. Speech therapy helped me improve, but the greater challenge was learning not to let fear control my choices. One moment I still think about today was my elementary school talent show. I volunteered to perform as a “Presidential Historian,” reciting facts about every U.S. president from memory in front of the entire school. Right before walking on stage, I remember standing backstage rubbing my hands against my pants, wondering if I would freeze in front of everyone. But I had spent years reading books about presidents and genuinely loved sharing what I had learned. Once I started speaking, the fear gradually faded. By the end of the performance, the gym erupted in applause. That experience taught me that confidence is built by confronting discomfort rather than avoiding it. Years later, I carried that lesson into my work at a local law firm, where I interviewed incarcerated clients inside county jails. Sitting across from people facing serious legal consequences was initially intimidating, but I quickly realized that many clients simply wanted someone willing to listen and explain things clearly. My own experiences struggling with communication helped me connect with people who often felt misunderstood or unheard. As a lawyer, I want to help build greater trust between people and the legal system by being someone who listens carefully, communicates clearly, and advocates effectively. I also hope to mentor young people facing speech impediments or self-doubt so they recognize that challenges do not have to define their future. As someone who once feared speaking, I hope to spend my career helping others find their voice when it matters most.

Ned Kalata Tawkify Meaningful Connections Scholarship When I was in third grade, I suddenly developed a stutter. Almost overnight, something as simple as answering a question in class became intimidating. I began speaking less because I hated the way I sounded. With every stumble over my words, I became more self-conscious, eventually withdrawing into silence in situations where I might otherwise have spoken. My mother refused to let that silence define me. As a certified district nurse, she recognized early that the stutter needed to be addressed directly. She found a speech pathologist and, for the next year, left work early every Wednesday to take me to therapy. My younger sister would sit with her in the waiting room while I worked through breathing exercises, pacing strategies, and speaking techniques that initially felt frustrating and unnatural. What shaped me most was not only the therapy itself, but the way my parents approached it. My mother learned the tools alongside me. At home, she modeled patient communication by slowing conversations down, looking directly at me when I spoke, and never finishing my sentences. My parents also worked closely with my Catholic grade school, asking teachers not to call on me unexpectedly or draw attention to my speech so I would not feel embarrassed in front of my classmates. Rather than allowing the stutter to define me, they created an environment where I felt supported enough to keep trying. With each week of therapy, my confidence slowly began to return. I imagined myself carrying an invisible “tool belt” of strategies I could rely on when speaking became difficult. Over time, I started to speak more freely again, even when it still felt uncomfortable. Around that same time, I developed a strong interest in presidential history. Since kindergarten, I had been fascinated by presidents and government, memorizing facts and stories about each administration. When my elementary school talent show approached, I decided to perform as the “Presidential Historian,” reciting every United States president in order along with a fact about each one. For a third grader working through a stutter, standing on a stage in front of a full gymnasium would have been intimidating under any circumstance. Yet my parents never discouraged me. They never asked, “What if you stutter?” Instead, they trusted I could do it long before I believed it myself. I still remember a moment during that time when my cousin asked me on a family vacation why I talked the way I did. Because of the confidence my parents had instilled in me, I remember simply saying, “We are all unique.” At the time, it felt like a small answer. Looking back, it reflected something much larger, how I had started to see myself, not through the lens of limitation, but through understanding. Today, I am twenty one years old, a recent graduate of Texas Christian University, and preparing to begin law school. There are still moments when I occasionally get stuck on words, but I no longer see those moments as something to hide. Earlier this year, I gave a presentation in one of my final classes at TCU. Afterward, my professor emailed me to say I had “great stage presence,” strong engagement, and should continue speaking in front of people after graduation. Years earlier, I would have avoided that situation entirely. The first people I shared that message with were my parents, because the confidence behind it was not built alone. My relationship with my parents, especially my mother, has shaped the way I connect with others. Through their patience and consistency, I learned to listen without rushing people and to let others speak in their own time. That mindset carries directly into my work at a criminal defense law firm, where I interview incarcerated clients who often feel dismissed or unheard. In those conversations, I try to do something simple but important, give people space to speak, and actually listen when they do. What began as a childhood struggle with speech became the foundation for how I understand communication and relationships. My parents taught me that confidence is not always loud or immediate, it is built quietly through patience, repetition, and belief in someone before they fully believe in themselves. That is something I still carry with me in every conversation I have, and something I try to extend to others whenever I can.

Ned S. Kalata Joe Gilroy, "plan your work, work your plan" scholarship My long term goal is to build a career in public service through the legal profession, beginning as a prosecutor and eventually expanding into leadership roles in government and public policy. In Fall 2026, I will begin pursuing my Juris Doctor at Suffolk University Law School, where I intend to focus on trial and appellate advocacy. My ultimate objective is to serve as a District Attorney for approximately twenty years, advocating for justice, protecting communities, and ensuring fairness within the criminal justice system. Later in my career, I hope to become involved in politics so I can continue contributing to policies that strengthen communities and uphold the integrity of our legal system. My decision to attend Suffolk was intentional and directly connected to my career goals. Suffolk’s nationally respected trial and appellate advocacy programs will provide the courtroom training necessary for a future prosecutor. In addition, Suffolk’s First Year Summer Judicial Internship Program offers the opportunity to work alongside judges in both federal and state courts throughout Massachusetts. This experience will strengthen my legal writing, courtroom observation, and litigation skills early in my legal education. To prepare for this path, I have already taken meaningful steps during my undergraduate education at Texas Christian University, where I majored in Political Science and minored in Criminal Justice. Since August 2023, I have worked as a law clerk at Gill & Brissette, a criminal defense firm. During the academic year, I balanced a rigorous course load while working approximately 10 to 15 hours per week, and during summers I worked full time. I remember sitting in a jail interview room for the first time and realizing how overwhelming the legal system can feel for someone without legal knowledge. That experience strengthened my commitment to public service and advocacy. Through this role, I gained practical experience conducting legal research, assisting with case preparation, communicating with clients, and observing the realities of the criminal justice system firsthand. My plan to achieve these goals is structured around three phases: legal education, prosecutorial experience, and long term public leadership. The first phase is completing law school and entering the legal profession. During my three years at Suffolk Law, I plan to prioritize academic performance, courtroom advocacy training, internships, and networking opportunities within the Massachusetts legal community. I intend to participate in trial advocacy competitions, legal clinics, and judicial internships to gain practical courtroom experience before graduation. Financial planning is also an important part of this process. My projected annual budget includes approximately $60,000 for tuition and fees, $20,000 for housing and utilities, $3,000 for books and supplies, and $10,000 for transportation and living expenses. To manage these costs, I plan to combine scholarship assistance, federal student aid, personal savings, and continued legal employment during summers and academic breaks. The second phase of my plan is entering a District Attorney’s Office after law school. My goal is to begin as an Assistant District Attorney, where I can develop courtroom experience and litigation skills. What draws me most to prosecution is the responsibility of balancing accountability with fairness while protecting both the community and the rights of the accused. As a child, I worked through a stutter in speech therapy, and learning to speak confidently taught me discipline and resilience. Those experiences continue to guide me today when entering unfamiliar or challenging environments. Ultimately, my goal is not simply to build a career, but to dedicate my work to service, leadership, and advocacy while helping make this country a stronger and more just one for future generations.

Growing up, I learned that expression is not something everyone takes for granted. In elementary school, I developed a stutter and began speech therapy. Around that same time, I volunteered to perform in my school talent show as the “Presidential Historian,” reciting every U.S. president in order along with a fact about each. As I walked toward the stage, I remember feeling my heart pounding and wondering whether I would get stuck on the very first name. Standing in front of a crowded gymnasium with a microphone in hand was intimidating for any third grader. For me, it felt even bigger because speaking itself had suddenly become difficult. What the audience saw as a fun performance represented months of effort behind the scenes. Speech therapy forced me to slow down, rebuild my sense of self-assurance, and stop being afraid of speaking in front of others. I still remember standing backstage before the performance, nervous that I would freeze or stumble over my words. Instead, once I started speaking, I realized I could do it. Delivering that performance taught me something I have carried with me ever since: having a voice matters, but having the courage to use it matters just as much. Because of those experiences, free expression has never felt abstract to me. To me, it is not just a constitutional principle. The First Amendment protects more than speech itself; it protects the ability of ordinary people to participate in public life without fear of being silenced. As I grew older, that belief developed into a broader interest in advocacy and the legal system. In college, I majored in Political Science and minored in Criminal Justice, where I became increasingly interested in how law shapes public dialogue and protects individual rights. My experiences clerking for a local law firm strengthened those interests even further. While assisting attorneys and interviewing incarcerated clients, I began to realize how powerless people can feel when they do not know how to advocate for themselves or believe nobody will listen to them. Many of the clients I spoke with were close to my age and had made poor decisions that permanently altered the trajectory of their lives. Many also lacked the resources or support necessary to effectively tell their stories or defend their rights. Those experiences reinforced my belief that free expression and advocacy are closely connected. The ability to tell your story, defend your rights, and participate in important decisions should not depend on circumstance or privilege. My interest in free expression ultimately comes from personal experience. What began as a childhood struggle with speech became the foundation for my interest in advocacy, communication, and the law. My experiences taught me that free expression is not only about protecting speech in principle, but also about ensuring people have the opportunity and support to use their voices at all.