I'm hoping to transfer to A&M in the fall! So far, this is what I have for my statement of purpose.
The preconceived notion that all lawyers are swindlers and shysters has troubled me since I was old enough to understand the term "ambulance chaser". I grew up defending my father from kids and adults alike. For reasons I may never understand, many of the people I surrounded myself with never differentiated between civil law attorneys and criminal law attorneys, nor between Plaintiff attorneys and Prosecutors and criminal defense attorneys. Many saw attorneys as nothing more than leeches with an appetite for wealth. As a child with a father who offered his services for remarkably reduced rates to families who couldn't afford the attorney fees, this enraged me. As the daughter of a lawyer who brought home the heartbreaking stories of clients who couldn't afford their hospital bills and stories of soldiers who, upon returning home, became car wreck victims with such severe brain injuries that they didn't even recognize their family, this disgusted me. Years after I took the liberty of telling my friends that no, not all attorneys defend serial murderers and rapists, and yes, it is still the assailant's constitutional right to be appointed an attorney in a criminal case regardless of the crime committed, I began seriously considering becoming an attorney myself. Sometime during high school, once I was truly able to understand my father's court room stories and the reasoning behind why he was so passionate about his career as a Plaintiff's attorney, it almost seemed as if there was nothing more I would love to do than follow in his footsteps.
As it stands, law is where my heart is set. However, I would also love to incorporate my seemingly-hereditary love of books and writing; I am planning to major in English. After an illness that caused me to miss many months of school, books became more of a treasured commodity. I read, wrote, and escaped to other worlds in which my disease didn't matter. Fortunately, I've learned to live with my illness. Although it was awful to deal with when I was a child, it has made me grow as an adult. In a sense, I am grateful for it; I loved literature before falling ill, but had it not been for the sickness, my passion for prose would not occupy the large part of my life that it does presently.
In the summer of 2010, my cousin, an A&M graduate, flew me out to College Station and showed off his beloved campus. Although I was not yet a junior in high school, I was able to see myself as a student there. I visited at least ten other Texas universities, but, even three years later, not a single one stuck with me like A&M has. In my hometown, there is an all-boys' high school that thrives on tradition. All but two of my male family members have graduated from this school, and I am not ashamed to admit that, to this day, I have always been envious of them. This high school, much like A&M, is wrought with traditions dating back almost a century. From football game rituals to its extravagant homecoming celebrations, I always yearned to be involved in some way but, at this male-dominated school, there was never an opportunity. If I were accepted into A&M, one thing that I can promise whole-heartedly is I will be involved in all ways possible. After all, I have almost two decades' worth of school years that lacked tradition and camaraderie to make up for.
The preconceived notion that all lawyers are swindlers and shysters has troubled me since I was old enough to understand the term "ambulance chaser". I grew up defending my father from kids and adults alike. For reasons I may never understand, many of the people I surrounded myself with never differentiated between civil law attorneys and criminal law attorneys, nor between Plaintiff attorneys and Prosecutors and criminal defense attorneys. Many saw attorneys as nothing more than leeches with an appetite for wealth. As a child with a father who offered his services for remarkably reduced rates to families who couldn't afford the attorney fees, this enraged me. As the daughter of a lawyer who brought home the heartbreaking stories of clients who couldn't afford their hospital bills and stories of soldiers who, upon returning home, became car wreck victims with such severe brain injuries that they didn't even recognize their family, this disgusted me. Years after I took the liberty of telling my friends that no, not all attorneys defend serial murderers and rapists, and yes, it is still the assailant's constitutional right to be appointed an attorney in a criminal case regardless of the crime committed, I began seriously considering becoming an attorney myself. Sometime during high school, once I was truly able to understand my father's court room stories and the reasoning behind why he was so passionate about his career as a Plaintiff's attorney, it almost seemed as if there was nothing more I would love to do than follow in his footsteps.
As it stands, law is where my heart is set. However, I would also love to incorporate my seemingly-hereditary love of books and writing; I am planning to major in English. After an illness that caused me to miss many months of school, books became more of a treasured commodity. I read, wrote, and escaped to other worlds in which my disease didn't matter. Fortunately, I've learned to live with my illness. Although it was awful to deal with when I was a child, it has made me grow as an adult. In a sense, I am grateful for it; I loved literature before falling ill, but had it not been for the sickness, my passion for prose would not occupy the large part of my life that it does presently.
In the summer of 2010, my cousin, an A&M graduate, flew me out to College Station and showed off his beloved campus. Although I was not yet a junior in high school, I was able to see myself as a student there. I visited at least ten other Texas universities, but, even three years later, not a single one stuck with me like A&M has. In my hometown, there is an all-boys' high school that thrives on tradition. All but two of my male family members have graduated from this school, and I am not ashamed to admit that, to this day, I have always been envious of them. This high school, much like A&M, is wrought with traditions dating back almost a century. From football game rituals to its extravagant homecoming celebrations, I always yearned to be involved in some way but, at this male-dominated school, there was never an opportunity. If I were accepted into A&M, one thing that I can promise whole-heartedly is I will be involved in all ways possible. After all, I have almost two decades' worth of school years that lacked tradition and camaraderie to make up for.