Hello, I am looking for an English Major or Law professor to proofread and revise my personal statement for my admissions process to law school. It is 3 pages long and already written. I just want som

Name Lsac ID Personal Statement 4

Three months in prison. This is not your typical summer for a 21-year-old college student living in Miami. What crime did she commit? Why did she spend her summer in prison? These could feasibly be some of the questions going through your mind right now. Fortunate enough, I was on the freedom side of the prison cell and not on the incarcerated side. It was the summer of 2017 when I first voluntarily stepped foot inside a level 5 security prison. I became one of the few Hispanic student advocates for the Corrections Transition Program located at Everglades Correctional Institution in Miami. It is also known statewide as the Lifer's Program, which is a program that prepares inmates for re-entry into society who are parole eligible. These men have all been sentenced to life in prison before 1973 and have spent over 47 years incarcerated. They go by their motto of “Men going home,” but these “men going home” are not knowledgeable of the technological advancements in today’s modern-day society. This is where I come into the picture.

104 incarcerated men and 25 volunteers, I did not know what I was getting myself into. I told myself I would approach this scenario open-minded and although I was bias at first about their moral character, I did exactly that. I was in charge of teaching four inmates how to transition from their everyday prison norm to real-life. At first, I was scared for many reasons. Am I safe? Is there going to be a language barrier? Will I be able to help these men? I was sitting in a room full of offenders that have done crimes such as murder, rape, robbery, drug trafficking, and more; all while they were uncuffed and free to roam around the room. To my surprise, I was exceedingly wrong. They proved to be more proper and respectful than 90% of the general public I know outside of the prison world. They were friendly, well-mannered, and most importantly made me feel safe.

When asked what their plan was once released, I received an answer I will never forget. “You could let me out today and I’ll turn right back around because I wouldn’t know what to do.” This was the moment my heart weighed heavy and I felt sympathy for every person incarcerated and getting released to a completely different world than that they knew before. I knew this had to be changed and I was a part of a bigger picture that gave purpose to helping other individuals with real-life problems. This answer hit close to home since my grandparents migrated from Colombia to the United States without knowing English, and without knowing anyone. They felt the same pressure of going into a world that they don’t easily fit in with. Thankfully, with each other’s support, they did not give up and learned to adjust to American society with the help of others. Just like my grandparents had an extra hand, I made it my mission to extend my hand and teach these men as much as I possibly could. I proceeded to overcome my fear of public speaking and go beyond helping my four assigned inmates to teach a 100+ person workshop. I printed over 100 copies of proper table etiquette in a basic, informal, and formal table setting and began my journey of changing the world person by person. I felt passion and purpose, which led me to consider taking my career one step further.

Although, it was not my first encounter in thinking about law school, it was the deciding factor. To have a better insight into what further contributed to my decision making, I was fifteen years old when my world fell apart. I came home from what my father saw as an unexpected visit and caught him with another woman. I was with my mother at the time and the situation escalated very quickly. This led to an arrest and soon after, a divorce. My two worlds crashed. I was then caught in the middle of what was now a domestic violence case. As a witness, I was obligated to state my side of the story under oath, which meant going against one of my parents. Everything around me went from color to black and white overnight. I knew what was at risk, but also had no choice but to go to court, watch both sides of the families and swear under oath against one parent.

This lasted for about 2-3 years, and within that time frame not only did I lose contact with half of my family, but I also lost my house to foreclosure twice. The first time was my parents’ home, and the second time was my mother’s home. I was unstable when it came to my living conditions, so I moved in with my grandparents. This took a toll on my mental health, and I knew that had to change, so I used this traumatic experience as fuel to take me out of the dark place I was in. Immediately, my curiosity steered me to question how court proceedings work and how the law applies to scenarios like mine. I was in high school at the time and decided to take Constitutional and Criminal Law as electives. My passion grew stronger on the subject, which led me to major in criminal justice for college. I was always fascinated with the law, but never knew what I wanted to do with it. I learned that every struggle molded me in the right direction and in my case that was the summer of 2017.

To the prisoners I was a model figure in teaching them ways to survive outside of what they know, but to me, it was them I needed. They gave way to a new perspective I currently have on life and for that I give them full credibility. I became stronger with my faith than I ever have and learned to filter my thoughts to only see positiveness and gratefulness. Now I manifest my life in the way I want it and I thank these life-changing experiences that lead me to expand my mind into pursuing a legal career. Therefore, I plan on chasing the feeling of being able to make a difference by studying criminal and family law where I will open my firm and be the voice to those who have none. I will stand to defend those who have been in my position before, and those who never got a second chance at life.