I used to hate law. After all, the most notable representatives of law in my formative years were the officers breaking down our door to arrest my mother for the second time in six months, the prosecutor viciously interrogating her and my father in the trial, and the judge who ultimately sentenced her to a year away from me. Every time I witnessed the legal system operate, my heart would be torn. As a kid, I blamed the law and its enforcers for the painful emotions that consumed me during the time without a mother. Now through volunteer work and education, I understand that the complexity of the legal system and diversity of experiences with law need to be confronted, and even embraced. I grew to understand the severity of my mother’s mistakes as well as my own mistake in prematurely judging a career that would allow my passions to flourish. Even though I endured a tumultuous childhood and yearned to escape its negative consequences, it ignited a desire to protect other children and families who might go through similar situations. My personal history with the justice system and work with the Prisoners Literature Project coupled with my competence in leadership solidified my emotional and practical devotion to a career in criminal defense. I was introduced to the Prisoners Literature Project in my first semester through my pre-law fraternity’s philanthropy newsletter. I was enthralled by the Prisoners Literature Project’s mission statement of helping incarcerated people further their education and quality of life through the Berkeley Grassroots free library and submitted my application. From receiving the acceptance email to every shift I sign up for, this program has mirrored the joy I felt when I received a letter from my mother and granted me a purpose beyond school. Even though I was re-encountering a similar intimacy with the legal system I had recently been opposed to, fulfilling the book requests and writing letters to prisoners initiated my newfound appreciation and potential to further help criminals through law. My commitment to law school can best be exemplified through the accredited course I facilitate regarding Criminal Psychology. This extra curricular has provided me with the legal background and academic resources needed when entering the critical field of criminal defense. Having a previously incarcerated parent and experience in the Prisoners Literature Project has shaped my outlook and emotional intelligence, but researching criminal trials, nature vs. nurture, criminal profiling, and interrogation techniques for my criminal psychology lectures supplemented my subjective skills with more neutral, objective ones. A personal connection to helping marginalized members of society would be powerless and ineffective without the tools to enact change. Operating an upper-division class in the legal studies department has equipped me with attentiveness to detail, an emphasis on the thorough completion of objectives, and the mental endurance needed for my academic pursuits. These attributes and knowledge of the criminal justice system build a pragmatic foundation that will allow me to weather the emotional impact of criminal charges. I will be attending Law school in the Fall of 2024 to ensure my impact continues. A Juris Doctor degree will allow me to honor the childhood that made me pursue law as well as qualify my ambition of fairly representing criminals in need of a second chance. Law school is the next, natural step in developing my emotional and professional service to those in need.

2012 was the year that my dad and I decided to move houses for the last time. Previously, my mother’s job as a freelance OB/GYN made us move countless times, but the new house in 2012 was different as it was just my dad and I occupying it. My mother was recently incarcerated and my father knew she could not come home for a while. He decided to move us one last time so that my grandparents in the next town over could help raise me since my dad was still a full-time firefighter. Moving many times in my childhood familiarized me with the new school environment, as I was always the “new kid” anytime we moved. My father told me that this school was different as we would not be moving again and I was to make the best impression possible. I brushed his advice off my shoulder by keeping my mindset of not getting too close to anyone and not drawing more attention to myself. I was going to introduce myself quietly, do all my classwork quickly, and avoid eye contact at recess. This plan to enter my new, fourth-grade classroom mirrored how I acted when I changed schools before and it would have gone perfectly as it did in the past, if it were not for Mia. Mia was not like other kids at my previous schools. She saw me as a new opportunity for friendship, not someone to ignore. After my quiet introduction where I asked to go by “Delaney” instead of my legal name of “Sarah,” I saw a hand shoot up to the sky. It was attached to a girl wearing a purple striped t-shirt with a monkey on it in the third row. “Your parents let you change your name? That’s so cool!” Mia asked. I told her the story about my parents thinking I looked like a “Delaney” instead of a “Sarah” a couple of months after I was born which led to the change. She listened to me with the biggest smile on her face as I realized this was the most I’d ever talked on a first day. At recess, while I was avoiding eye contact, she came up to me with her friend Makenzie and asked where I came from and if I liked One Direction (Obviously I said yes). From this point on, she made it a goal to include me in her life and we became inseparable. After the first “Family, Fun Night” at the elementary school, Mia’s mother offered to take me back to their house to play until my dad got off work. As her mother turned into my neighborhood, confusion flooded my mind. Her mother passed my house and pulled into the driveway of a house a street down from mine. I realized then that Mia lived in my community. The bond between us is analogous to how close our houses were to each other. We would always be a two-minute walk away wherever we needed each other. Mia has been there to force me out of my shell, comfort me when my mother was away, celebrate my mother’s return, endure my junior high attitude, cheer me on at my sporting events in high school, and fully support my education at UC Berkeley even though it separated us for three years. I am so lucky that Mia took a chance on the “new girl” twelve years ago and I can confidently say that she will be my Maid of Honor and children’s godparent.

I used to hate law. After all, the most notable representatives of law in my formative years were the officers breaking down our door to arrest my mother for the second time in six months, the prosecutor viciously interrogating her and my father in the trial, and the judge who ultimately sentenced her to years away from me. Every time I witnessed the legal system operate, my heart would be torn. As a kid, I blamed the law and its enforcers for the painful emotions that consumed me during the time without a mother. Now through volunteer work and education, I understand that the complexity of the legal system and diversity of experiences with law need to be confronted, and even embraced. I grew to understand the severity of my mother’s mistakes as well as my own mistake in prematurely judging a career that would allow my passions to flourish. Even though I endured a tumultuous childhood and yearned to escape its negative consequences, it ignited a desire to protect other children and families who might go through similar situations. My personal history with the justice system and work with the Prisoners Literature Project coupled with my position in education solidified my emotional and practical devotion to a career in criminal defense. I was introduced to the Prisoners Literature Project in my first semester through my pre-law fraternity’s philanthropy newsletter. I was enthralled by the Prisoners Literature Project’s mission statement of helping incarcerated people further their education and quality of life through the Berkeley Grassroots free library and submitted my application. From receiving the acceptance email to every shift I sign up for, this program has mirrored the joy I felt when I received a letter from my mother and granted me a purpose beyond school. Even though I was re-encountering a similar intimacy with the legal system I had recently been opposed to, fulfilling the book requests and writing letters to prisoners initiated my newfound appreciation and potential to further help criminals through law. My commitment to law school can best be exemplified through the accredited course I facilitate on Criminal Psychology. Having a previously incarcerated parent and experience in the Prisoners Literature Project has shaped my outlook and emotional intelligence, but researching criminal trials, nature vs. nurture, criminal profiling, and interrogation techniques for my criminal psychology lectures supplemented my subjective skills with more neutral, objective ones. A personal connection to helping marginalized members of society would be powerless and ineffective without the tools to enact change. Operating an upper-division class in the legal studies department has equipped me with attentiveness to detail, an emphasis on the thorough completion of objectives, and the mental endurance needed for my academic pursuits. I am pursuing a Juris Doctor degree which allows me to honor the childhood that made me pursue law as well as qualify my ambition of fairly representing criminals in need of a second chance. Law school is my next step in developing my emotional service and professional career.

I used to hate law. After all, the most notable representatives of law in my formative years were the officers breaking down our door to arrest my mother for the second time in six months, the prosecutor viciously interrogating her and my father in the trial, and the judge who ultimately sentenced her to a year away from me. Every time I witnessed the legal system operate, my heart would be torn. As a kid, I blamed the law and its enforcers for the painful emotions that consumed me during the time without a mother. Now through volunteer work and education, I understand that the complexity of the legal system and diversity of experiences with law need to be confronted, and even embraced. I grew to understand the severity of my mother’s mistakes as well as my own mistake in prematurely judging a career that would allow my passions to flourish. Even though I endured a tumultuous childhood and yearned to escape its negative consequences, it ignited a desire to protect other children and families who might go through similar situations. My personal history with the justice system and work with the Prisoners Literature Project coupled with my competence in leadership positions solidified my emotional and practical devotion to a career in criminal defense. I was introduced to the Prisoners Literature Project in my first semester through my pre-law fraternity’s philanthropy newsletter. I was enthralled by the Prisoners Literature Project’s mission statement of helping incarcerated people further their education and quality of life through the Berkeley Grassroots free library and submitted my application. From receiving the acceptance email to every shift I sign up for, this program has mirrored the joy I felt when I received a letter from my mother and granted me a purpose beyond school. Even though I was re-encountering a similar intimacy with the legal system I had recently been opposed to, fulfilling the book requests and writing letters to prisoners initiated my newfound appreciation and potential to further help criminals through law. My commitment to law school can best be exemplified through the accredited course I facilitate regarding Criminal Psychology and being the Internal Vice President of Phi Alpha Delta, a pre-law fraternity at the University of California, Berkeley. Both duties have provided me with the legal background and academic resources needed when entering the critical field of criminal defense. Having a previously incarcerated parent and experience in the Prisoners Literature Project has shaped my outlook and emotional intelligence, but researching criminal trials, nature vs. nurture, criminal profiling, and interrogation techniques for my criminal psychology lectures supplemented my subjective skills with more neutral, objective ones. A personal connection to helping marginalized members of society would be powerless and ineffective without the tools to enact change. Operating an upper-division class in the legal studies department has equipped me with attentiveness to detail, an emphasis on the thorough completion of objectives, and the mental endurance needed for my academic pursuits. These attributes and knowledge of the criminal justice system build a pragmatic foundation that will allow me to weather the emotional impact of criminal charges. Additionally, assuming an executive position in an international pre-law fraternity introduced me to a career-level responsibility and the ability to manage dense workloads that resemble that of a full-time law student. Being an active agent in the fraternity’s elections and voting processes, amending the fraternity’s bylaws, and serving as a personal mentor for each new member furthers my own sense of purpose and thought. My comfortability with legislative documents and communication with legal professionals through these vice presidential duties will aid my transition into the legal field. A Juris Doctor degree will allow me to honor the childhood that made me pursue law as well as qualify my ambition of fairly representing criminals in need of a second chance. Law school is the next, natural step in developing my emotional service and professional career.