This spring, in my last semester of high school, I had the privilege of taking a history class called " Law and American Society.” Our teacher, Ms. Williams, had us study several landmark cases that have appeared before the U.S. Supreme Court over the long decades of American history, beginning with the defining moment of "Marbury v. Madison," when the role of the court was defined forever and the court was cemented in power. The most interesting case for me, however, was a very recent and very important one: "Students for Fair Admissions Inc. v. President and Fellows of Harvard College and Students for Fair Admissions Inc. v. University of North Carolina." There were two reasons why this case resonated with me so strongly. Firstly, because Ms. Williams instructed us to write either a mock dissent or mock majority (agreeing) decision, an exercise that taught me so much about how courts work and how arguments are made. Secondly, because I myself am a Black student who came to my boarding school, Phillips Exeter Academy, through a program for low-income students that some in America today might consider an example of that scary and terrible thing “Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion.” My resulting final paper was a fully fledged, nearly nine page dissent in the "Students for Fair Admissions Inc" case. As I wrote in my opening paragraph of my dissent, the majority’s decision in "Students for Fair Admissions Inc" turns "a blind eye to the current state of institutionalized racial inequality in American society and, for this reason, its logic is fatally flawed.” The decision to undo a system of affirmative action, I wrote, was based on wishful thinking about the current state of equality in America. “The Court is arguing that systemic injustice and discrimination will simply disappear after a time period that can be predetermined,” I wrote in my closing and concluding paragraph, “and that the need for action to promote inclusivity in the college admissions process will then cease to exist, but that narrative has no relation to current reality. There is no expiration date on racism. Central to the decision in 'Students for Fair Admissions' is the wishful thinking that affirmative action will one day soon no longer be necessary. In Grutter, the Court estimated that the need for race-informed admissions would no longer be necessary in 25 years. Justice Roberts, speaking for the majority in 'Students for Fair Admissions,' optimistically says that that time clock will run out in only three more years. Sadly, the Justice is mistaken. That day is not yet in sight. Racism persists. In today’s decision, the Court bans the medicine before the illness has been cured.” Today, I am a high school graduate who, because of financial aid and because of my own very hard work (ant not just DEI) will be attending college in the fall– again on full financial aid– to study political science on a prelaw track, with a long-term intention to follow in the footsteps of Bryan Stevenson and the Equal Justice Initiative. I believe that my success is a good example of why the Supreme Court majority was simply incorrect in its decision in "Students for Fair Admissions."

Ever since I was a little girl of six or seven years old, I’ve been aware of the inequalities that shape all of our lives. I grew up in a low-income, adoptive single-parent household, in a resort town where the "one percent" come for vacation, and this unusual point of view taught me very early how uneven the starting lines are for people. So much depends on where you're born and to what kind of family you are born. Add onto this the fact that I am adopted and remain in regular contact with relatives in Ethiopia, who are among the poorest of the world's poor, and I feel like I have an unusual and very personal perspective on economic inequality. But my life so far has also taught something else important: that education can be a miraculous key to change. My ambition is to use my education not only to elevate my own life, but to advocate for people like my Ethiopian birth family who have such a hard time having their voice heard. In college, I plan to major in political communication and government so I can get the tools I’ll need to work as a policy advocate or lobbyist for nonprofits focused on poverty and equity. College will equip me with more than just knowledge-- it will provide me with the mentors and hands-on experience I need to understand how government systems and the power structure work so I can influence them from the inside. I’m especially excited about attending a university where service is part of the academic culture. I want to get out into the community to do research and take part in internship programs that will allow me to work directly with, for example, a policy institute or maybe even on Capitol Hill. Beyond coursework, I know that being surrounded by people from many backgrounds will push me to think more critically and to be a more well-rounded person. In high school, I was lucky to meet kids from around the world (from Mexico City to Hong Kong and Lebanon) and our late-night conversations really have shaped who I am. I’ve already learned so much from friends and classmates whose perspectives differ from mine, but college will expand that circle even further. As an international adoptee in a multi-racial family, I often joke that I sometimes feel like a diplomat, because I have always had to move between groups and identities and to translate across economic and ethnic divides. My aim in college is to continue to gain skills as a community builder and coalition builder across these dividing lines. My goal is not just to make a living but to make a difference in the world, so that the world we live in can be just a little more fair