Letter from the Editor T
he legal labyrinth: a realm infamously bloated by bureaucracy and cloaked in elitist technicalities. I often ask attorneys for the golden piece of advice they wish to offer their undergraduate selves. The recurrent refrain rings in my ear before again reaching it: “Do not go to law school.” Casting aside personal regrets and discerning whether policy-focused roles better satiate my interests, these conversations routinely lead to questions pressing my motives to the surface. For a person I, in most cases, met only a half-hour ago, this personalized career assessment is an undervalued gesture of mentorship never to be taken for granted. Radiating from every response, though, is a disillusioned air of defeat. The last thing I will ask for, especially of an attorney, is to sugarcoat any difficulty lying ahead. Critical thought must inform the individual choice to attend law school, as the experience often fails to meet students’ of it as a glamorous means or end. Jadedness cultivated by the labyrinth is an issue in itself, but the perennial demand for legal experts burgeons on. Extinguishing even the most tenacious pre-professional passion risks segmenting the diversity of those who ultimately leap in. At The College, we are no strangers to intellectual ferocity, a common trait that keeps me engaged in campus life. Juggling research methods classes, honing practical skills through Registered Student Organizations, and salvaging semblances of social life can, with the same intensity, spiral into burnout. I have seen it happen. I have had it happen. Then, how do we preserve our sanity to put forth our utmost effort to the people and problems we are passionate about? Fasten your purpose. Many attorneys who regret their career choice cite the allure of law school as a societally safe post-graduation option. While the path of least resistance takes you far, I urge myself before you readers to interrogate what it is that makes us want to stay rather than commit elsewhere and enthusiastically continue with anticipation of and despite turbulence. Plugging into outlets beyond curricula is one of the most powerful mediums to reignite academic enthusiasm. Late one night during move-in, my roommate, ULM Staff Writer Emma Huerta, kept me at the edge of our comically red couch when walking me through the contemporary art world’s curatorial side. Her indelible curiosity radiated enough to illuminate the 2:00 AM sky peering in from the window. Without cause, hearing Emma fervently share her desire to make sense of boundlessly fascinating messes is among the salient instances where I feel my commitment to purpose tugged forth. Identifying a purpose is one step, and guarding it with resilience is equally important. Resilience is not exclusively born of hardship but a trait fortified in practice. Ground yourself in the actions that make sense in moving you forward. Continue a frank, ongoing dialogue between your professional goals and value system so they may lend to each other’s fulfillment. Law, as a profession, is over-glamorized and misunderstood. Nevertheless, its constituents commit a grave injustice against the industry if they do not imagine their hard-earned skills as part of a larger prime vehicle uniquely positioned to drive global paradigmatic change on all fronts. As the initial yearning to enter the legal labyrinth wanes after experiencing life within its walls, there may come a time when I, too, extend weary counsel about one of the world’s most inaccessible careers. In the words of my late step-grandmother in Arabic, ‘ ’ (shi’dee hae’lik), roughly translating to ‘brace your might.” Have faith in your abilities as you navigate the labyrinth, not stagnating in pride over past hurdles while shushing fear of the stark passages to come. Take solace in the mentors and peers privileged to watch you stumble and prevail and adopt purpose as your guiding light. Shi’du hae’lkum, Aya Hamza Re-Founding Editor in Chief
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