Empowering Oneself Through Imagination

-- By FeyiFalana - 20 Feb 2025

“If I can imagine it, I can get it.” - Professor Eben Moglen

This statement lived in me before I even had the words to describe it.

Growing up as the first daughter of Nigerian immigrants, I strived to be the best in everything I set my mind to. In America, my life began with a sense of obligation. I was expected to set an example for my siblings. I was expected to maintain high grades. I was expected to be perfect.

At an early age, everyone would try to box me in, telling me who I was supposed to be: the dutiful daughter, the obedient student, the one who makes sacrifices and puts everyone above herself. I felt pressured to balance it all and figure it out. The weight of everyone’s expectations was tied to every step I took. I could not disappoint my family. My parents always encouraged me to pursue every opportunity and be well-rounded. Their sacrifice as immigrants moving to a foreign country pushed me to stay focused on my goals and not settle for anything less than.

My experience is common for many first daughters coming from immigrant families. A planned future with a strong focus on education, leadership, and responsibility.

As the first in my family to attend college in America, this felt like both an opportunity and nerve-wracking task. I was trying to decipher a world no one had prepared me for. There were no stories at home about campus life, about professor office hours, or how to seek guidance on pursuing a career in law. No one told me how isolating it would be to walk through classrooms filled with students who looked like they belonged.

Some days, I felt like I was drowning in the weight of expectation. I wanted to cry, but I couldn’t. I wanted to quit, but I didn’t know how. In these moments, I would close my eyes and try to picture a future I could barely see, a future where I was more than the first daughter. I had to fight against the overwhelming feeling of being stretched too thin and being stuck between two worlds.

It wasn’t until I got to law school that I realized the importance of imagination. It was the one thing that kept me afloat. It was my secret weapon, my quiet resistance against the limits the world tried to impose on me. I imagined what it would feel like to claim space in a world that didn’t seem to have room for people who looked like me. I imagined a future where I was not just surviving, but thriving. I couldn’t imagine a world where I sacrificed my imagination, even if I made my parents proud.

As Professor Kellis Parker once said, “You have to pick up the horn and just play it.” And so, I picked up the horn and played it. I did not wait for permission from anyone. I made my own space. I focused on the things I wanted to learn. I spoke out when I was afraid to be heard. I pushed myself to explore untraditional paths for a career in the law.

I have always been drawn to impact and working directly with people. I wanted to build something that mattered beyond billable hours. I was interested in learning more about the idea of justice and equity in our global society. I began to see a different future. One rooted in development work in Africa with a close focus on advocacy and policy. I could tackle systemic issues found in Nigeria. I could explore issues focused on gender equality and women’s rights. I could study economic justice for the most vulnerable populations. The more I researched, the more I felt compelled to pursue a career in transnational development. This is where my law degree would be most useful.

But choosing that path was terrifying.

Still, I picked up the horn and just played it. I started talking to individuals pursuing careers in the field. Specifically, I went to a conference where I heard Professor Prais talk about her research and the importance of African Studies. I became inspired to research classes I could take across the university focused on citizenship and social movements. SIPA students were the most helpful in helping to figure out what organizations I could intern and work for. I began to seriously see myself in this space, someone rooted in her lineage but pushing beyond its limits.

I redefined what success looked like to me. I wasn’t abandoning my parents' sacrifices, but rather honoring them, by creating space for justice and purpose.

Being the first daughter is hard. It means carrying your family’s dreams while building your own. It means constantly pulling yourself forward, often alone, while everyone watches, waits, and hopes you don’t fall.

But imagination saved me.

As I said when we discussed this together, I don't understand the meaning of this draft very well. Eric Adams has been around a long time, and was in every respect a known quantity. In what way he represented political opportunity for "marginalized" New Yorkers more than Kathryn Garcia or Maya Wiley undertake to say, but I don't think I know anyone who closely follows the political life of the city who was much surprised by his record in office. If the premise of the essay is that you were taken in, despite your intelligence and sophistication, wouldn't it strengthen the essay to show how the deception was accomplished? If the point is that you still believe Adams was somehow blown off course into the slough of sleaze and incompetence that has characterized this administration, wouldn't it make sense to show that at some earlier moment in his history he was actually more like what he claimed to be? And would it not be worth a few sentences to explain why the quite exceptional women in whom you did not choose to believe (one of whom at least would have made an excellent and effective manager of the city) were not capable of attracting the same admiration you would up feeling for this third-rate man?

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