Help is this essay an awful idea and if its not should I change the ending. Thanks in advance
I thought I was tough. I've gained a hard exterior in the past few years and little fazed me. This past summer I learned that I knew nothing about being tough. I was given the opportunity to intern at the San Francisco District Attorney's office. I took the train in from where I was staying with my mom and I knew not to interact with strangers and keep my head up. While there I cataloged thousands of convictions; however I was also able to experience what court was really like. I typically saw trials where hardened criminals were accused of heinous crimes and usually were convicted. I of course was pleased when justice was served, especially for the victims' families because I was in their shoes some years ago. One day I went to see a sentencing for attempted murder of a "snitch" and the convicted were two gang members. I never thought I would ever feel empathy for criminals but as their public defenders started to speak about the difficulty of their lives I began to learn more about these men. They were only a few years older than me but one already had a little baby girl. They were both honor students until they dropped out of high school and joined a gang. Their mother was usually not around and when she was she was usually high. They were cared for by their older sister, who sat in court unwavering even when the prosecution attacked her after she gave her character statement for her little brothers. I found myself siding with the defense, hoping these young men were not going to have to spend their lives in prison. I sat there frozen while the judge banged her gavel, sentencing them both for 45 years to life with a chance for parole for a crime that was common in the projects, attempted murder with gang affiliations. The prosecution congratulated themselves and the detectives who worked on the case. Both convicted men began to cry, as they turned to say goodbye to their family. Their older sister hugged them both and said a prayer. I later found out from one of the detectives I worked with that the older sister was a single mother who had taken care of her siblings for most of her life but she was also putting herself through college. I learned what tough really was that day. Tough is being able to not only survive but to be the difference when it seemed like life was trying to break you.
I thought I was tough. I've gained a hard exterior in the past few years and little fazed me. This past summer I learned that I knew nothing about being tough. I was given the opportunity to intern at the San Francisco District Attorney's office. I took the train in from where I was staying with my mom and I knew not to interact with strangers and keep my head up. While there I cataloged thousands of convictions; however I was also able to experience what court was really like. I typically saw trials where hardened criminals were accused of heinous crimes and usually were convicted. I of course was pleased when justice was served, especially for the victims' families because I was in their shoes some years ago. One day I went to see a sentencing for attempted murder of a "snitch" and the convicted were two gang members. I never thought I would ever feel empathy for criminals but as their public defenders started to speak about the difficulty of their lives I began to learn more about these men. They were only a few years older than me but one already had a little baby girl. They were both honor students until they dropped out of high school and joined a gang. Their mother was usually not around and when she was she was usually high. They were cared for by their older sister, who sat in court unwavering even when the prosecution attacked her after she gave her character statement for her little brothers. I found myself siding with the defense, hoping these young men were not going to have to spend their lives in prison. I sat there frozen while the judge banged her gavel, sentencing them both for 45 years to life with a chance for parole for a crime that was common in the projects, attempted murder with gang affiliations. The prosecution congratulated themselves and the detectives who worked on the case. Both convicted men began to cry, as they turned to say goodbye to their family. Their older sister hugged them both and said a prayer. I later found out from one of the detectives I worked with that the older sister was a single mother who had taken care of her siblings for most of her life but she was also putting herself through college. I learned what tough really was that day. Tough is being able to not only survive but to be the difference when it seemed like life was trying to break you.
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