“Columbia Law is where dreams die.”

That was what Donna, a NYU Law student, told me when she was attempting to dissuade me from coming here. It was a ridiculous recruiting tactic, but, in retrospect, she was partially right.

When I first started law school at Columbia, I thought that I had almost finished accomplishing several of my life goals. My younger brother Kevin, whom I had spent the previous year taking care of, graduated from high school and came to Columbia with me to study pre-med. Also, I had fallen in love with Jason, an economics graduate student from Kansas, and planned to marry him during the summer after my 1L year. Regarding my career, I thought that a degree from Columbia, one of the nation’s most selective law schools, would almost guarantee me any job that I wanted. For the past several years prior to law school, my career goal was to work for the ACLU’s Security Project. I dreamed of arguing Supreme Court cases that would shut down Guantanamo Bay, the extraordinary rendition and drone strike programs, and many other human rights abuses committed in the name of fighting terrorism. To me, Columbia represented a new beginning, an opportunity to gain the education I needed to positively impact the world.

One of my dreams did die at Columbia during my first semester, although for reasons completely unrelated to school. After a verbally abusive argument, I broke up with Jason. I did not take the break-up well, rapidly spiraling into depression. After losing the only man I have ever loved, I no longer felt any inclination to study or socialize with my classmates.

Shortly afterwards, I suffered another disappointment. My academic performance during my first semester was extremely average. My grades were not high enough for me to make law review and secure multiple prestigious clerkships, both of which are essentially requirements for a position at the ACLU. Furthermore, the National Security Project rejected my summer internship application without an interview.

I soon began to reevaluate my dreams. Because reconciliation with Jason and employment at the ACLU no longer seemed to be options, I persuaded myself that I no longer wanted either.

Jason had never appreciated me. Whenever he needed anything, I would always prioritize helping him, neglecting my school work and refusing to sleep until his problems were resolved. While I admittedly was not always the most pleasant girlfriend, I did not deserve to be constantly insulted. I would be happier not loving again than continuing to love someone who did not truly love me back.

As for the ACLU, I felt insulted by their refusal to even consider me, despite my years of human rights activism experience. How can I be unqualified to help litigate on national security merely because I was not as good at guessing on Andrzej Rapaczynski’s true/false Torts exam as my classmates? Such rejection made me reconsider whether it would be worth it to continue with my original plan of specializing in national security law while in school. What if I still would not be good enough for the ACLU? Unlike many of my classmates, I cannot rely on my family for financial support if I fail to find employment after law school, which would be more likely if I do not have diverse training.

Now, I am considering antitrust law instead, mostly because I crave stability. I have been on my own since I was 19. Until I secured a full-time job after college, I was never sure if I would continue to have enough money for food or a roof over my head at night. Forgoing my dream job for a bearable alternative is a small price to pay to avoid living in poverty again.

This summer, I will be interning at the Federal Trade Commission, which hopefully will help me with my decision. I was extremely passionate about economics, my undergraduate major, and would love to be able to use it, as well as my legal knowledge, in my career. I began college during the height of the 2008 Financial Crisis, and decided to major in economics in hopes of researching how to prevent future economic collapse and suffering. I always viewed economics as a form of helping the community by helping create prosperity. Antitrust litigation also could be a form of service due to the importance of maintaining competitive markets.

Despite my desire for stability, I also crave freedom. Throughout my adult life, I have never been free. Money, family, and personal insecurities have always prevented me from doing what I wanted. After my break-up with Jason, I began doubting my self-worth, which may be why I question my ability to do national security law. While money and family are legitimate barriers to freedom, my personal insecurities are not. I don’t want to give up on my dreams. I have always hated weakness and taken pride in my ability to overcome adversity.

So maybe I can still become a national security lawyer without working for the ACLU. Carl Mayer and Bruce Afran litigated Hedges v. Obama, a high-profile Second Circuit case challenging the National Defense Authorization Act, independent of any organization. Maybe I can too. Or maybe I can improve academically enough to be competitive for an ACLU position. We’ll see.

Going forward, I plan to take classes in both fields that I am considering, including corporations, securities, antitrust, human rights, and national security. I also will continue having an active role in Columbia’s ACLU and Amnesty International chapters, which hopefully will connect me with other like-minded students. Finally, I hope to participate in externships in order to gain more practical legal experience. I am determined to eventually have what I want in life. I just need to decide what it is that I want. I hope that law school can help me do that.

-- LilyVo - 08 Apr 2013