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-- By LizzieGomez - 20 Apr 2012
In December, I received a baby blue knitted hat from Yesenia. I know this because a Sanctuary for Families staffer e-mailed me saying that the woman who I helped apply for a U-VISA dropped it off. I was a 0L when I volunteered to work with 2 other lawyers on her case this past summer. I’d consider her my first legal client. Anyway, 3 days later I picked up my hat along with a note: un regalito para ud. gracias por su dedicacion y pasion. Translation: a little gift for you. thanks for your dedication and passion. | |
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> | I used something similar in the first draft of my first paper, and this is the advice I received. I think it might be helpful in this context as well. I know this all connects back to your last section, but I still dont think it adds much to the overall message of your story, I personally would just start with "Passion Redefined": "Why is that the
introduction? It may be relevant context for you, but it doesn't
help to communicate your idea to a reader who wants to know what you
think, not who you were walking with when you thought
it". | | | Passion redefined
Like success and maybe Santa Claus, passion is a concept we’ve learned to desire for all the wrong reasons and based on idiosyncratic American values. Before life experience teaches us any better, we believe passion is the one thing we were meant/born to do. Conventional wisdom bullshit also establishes that passion is the person I am destined to be, the career I was built to succeed at, the business card my mother would be proud to share among her friends. I, like most, was taught to reach for the stars and to never settle for second best. Sticking to that standard, I figured I had better give a damn perfect answer whenever a stranger asked me what my passion is. But I never had one. After twentysomething years, my passion was proving harder to pinpoint than the next guy I swore was my soul mate. | |
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< | One of my takeaways from this class has been a lesson on passion. The lesson: that the preceding end-all, be-all notion oversimplifies my capacity as a lawyer. The search is not for a self-absorbed idea of what we’re good at, but for a problem – a repulsive view of our society, where the law reveals its beauty and weakness. When passion-seeker instead becomes a problem-seeker, there’s a shift from purely introspective questions to those that connect with the experiences of other people (e..g, Travond Martin/Sandra Fluke discussions,) . It’s a balance of self-awareness with situational awareness. | >
> | One of my takeaways from this class has been a lesson on passion. The lesson: that the preceding end-all, be-all notion oversimplifies my capacity as a lawyer. The search is not for a self-absorbed idea of what we’re good at, but for a problem – a repulsive view of our society, where the law reveals its beauty and weakness. When passion-seeker instead becomes a problem-seeker, there’s a shift from purely introspective questions to those that connect with the experiences of other people (e..g, Trayvon Martin/Sandra Fluke discussions,) . It’s a balance of self-awareness with situational awareness. | | | The bounds of passion
If passion is on a spectrum, then we’ve seen both ends. | | | Passion + I
Yesenia is an illegal immigrant woman from Ecuador. She left her own family to reunite her children with her then-husband. Her ex turned out to be a jealous misogynist, beating and raping her for receiving a smile from neighbor across the street. Fear, confusion, and an eviction ensued before she contacted Sanctuary for Families for help getting a U-Visa, a nonimmigrant visa for crime victims.
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< | My official task was to be her translator, help draft her declaration for the application, and wait with her whenever the attorneys were behind schedule. In truth, my task was to connect with her and find her story. She was my age, born only a few months before me, but that didn’t mean a thing. Of all the relationships I had to build, this was the hardest. Rightfully so, since Yesenia had recently forgone her efforts to track down the “lawyer” she paid $800 to review her case. Eventually, I connected with her, not as a woman or an immigrant, but through her drive for a better life and her unconditional love for her family. I knew she felt the same way after one morning we spent killing time in the lobby, waiting for the attorneys. She asked what my favor color was, and I said baby blue because it’s the color of my grandmother's house back in Peru. And she smiled back as if saying I know what you mean. | >
> | My official task was to be her translator, help draft her declaration for the application, and wait with her whenever the attorneys were behind schedule. In truth, my task was to connect with her and find her story. She was my age, born only a few months before me, but that didn’t mean a thing. Of all the relationships I had to build, this was the hardest. Rightfully so, since Yesenia had recently forgone her efforts to track down the “lawyer” she paid $800 to review her case. Eventually, I connected with her, not as a woman or an immigrant, but through her drive for a better life and her unconditional love for her family. I knew she felt the same way after one morning we spent killing time in the lobby, waiting for the attorneys. She asked what my favorite color was, and I said baby blue because it’s the color of my grandmother's house back in Peru. And she smiled back as if saying "I know what you mean". | | | I saw the beauty of the law in working for Yesenia, and it was in its weakest form of social control. We came together through the law's role as being "just to the poor." But when Yesenia was left in vulnerable state and justice thus served, the law created a wedge for me to be more than a translator and for the other attorneys to be more than document filers. I was afforded the chance to get to know her from her perspective. By shifting the focus from me to her, the problem became clearer to me. I saw the thang the way she did, after her first beating. Her resolve to rebuild a life that was almost taken away from her was soon my own. Right there I had found passion. How do I know? Because I discovered recently that I get real fidgety when I become self-conscious and absorbed in my own senseless thoughts. But in retrospect I never got fidgety when I was with her. Not once. (990 words) |
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