The Story I Kept in My Back Pocket: Why I Chose Law

Growing up, injustice was a familiar concept. It was something I came to recognise long before I understood the laws surrounding it. As a daughter of Haitian immigrants, the stories of our people’s suffering were often a leading conversation at the dinner table. From an early age, my parents’ struggle with immigration was my first interaction with injustice. I know there was nothing fair about watching my parents leave the place they so desperately wanted to call home, only to become foreigners in a place they only wanted to feel safe in. I watched as my parents seeking asylum led to being taken advantage of by the very lawyers they wanted to trust. They were treated as a burden instead of human beings. To hear about the injustices of our people back home was one thing but  to see it happen firsthand to my family sparked a fire in me I knew wouldn’t dim. I knew then I wanted to become the lawyer I wished my parents had at the time, but I hadn’t yet realized that having rights and being able to exercise them were two entirely different realities, and that equality in principle did not always translate into equality in practice.  

Truthfully, I used to think my responses were so cliché whenever people asked why I chose to pursue a legal pathway. I would usually say that I wanted to help people who looked like me and make a difference in the legal world, advocating for justice, particularly for those who made navigating discrimination part of their daily routine. While those reasons were genuine, I began to realize that they were also the easier ones to share. It was much harder to confront the experiences that had shaped my desire to pursue law in the first place. I kept those experiences in my back pocket, like a secret I never wanted anyone to know. That was until I began studying human rights. What I had been hiding may have just been my superpower. As my studies continued, I realised that my interpretation of the law was heavily influenced by my own experiences. Yet, through studying case after case, I developed a deeper understanding of inequality, discrimination, and legal protections. Somewhere between creating legislation and applying it, there seemed to be a disconnect between the rights people were promised and the realities they experienced. Before my studies, I hadn’t fully understood that people like me could play a role in bridging that gap.  

 As I continue my academic journey, I’ve started to realise that understanding injustice was no longer enough for me. I want to become someone equipped with the knowledge and tools on how to challenge it. My interest in immigration and human rights law stems not only from the experiences of my childhood, but also from my desire to become the kind of lawyer I wish my parents had, while also growing an understanding of the kind of responsibility that comes with advocating for others. I understand that I cannot promise every client the outcome they hope for, but I can strive to ensure that they feel heard, respected, and safe throughout the process. Being someone people can trust and someone who will do everything within the law to advocate for them. 

What’s ahead frightens me, but I can confidently say I am excited about the impact I could make in this field. My time studying law at Sussex has taught me that there is still so much to learn and so much work to be done in creating a legal system that truly embodies justice, equality and compassion. If I could offer one piece of advice to anyone wanting to pursue this pathway, it would be this: never underestimate the value of your own experiences. The very thing you may feel compelled to hide could be the foundation of your purpose. Your story matters, and so does the perspective you bring to the law. After all, the experiences I once kept hidden are now the very experiences shaping the lawyer I hope to become.