The Law School Cliche

It only took me about 3 hours to finally start typing - not including the weeks I spent contemplating. Despite everything I have experienced since my last post and all that I have to say, I can't help but feel paralyzed once my fingers touch the keyboard. Law school, intimidating professors, countless cover letters, painful interviews, GPA calculating, and this omnipresent thing called "networking" has become so central to my long term professional goals that this sickeningly chaotic process of building up my resume for "something" in the future has taken away my ability to write honestly. I can surely still write - I can brief cases, shepardize, put together a memo, type dozens of pages of academic legal analysis, and even bolt through a three hour exam like lightening until my hands shake from carpal tunnel - but I can't just write honestly.

I was warned before law school, time and time again, not to let the profession define me. I was told that I am more likely to lose myself in the competitive job hunt before I even graduate, faced with piling school debt, than to stick with the priorities that first thrust me into my passionate personal statements.

One reason I applied for law school was that I felt an obligation to use my privilege in a way so as not to let all be in vain. Somehow, God made the call to give me some limited talent with writing and speaking and he gave me the circumstances which allowed me to develop those skills. Nearly 200 countries exist and I was magically put in the most privileged of them all. Thousands of years of men on earth and I was put into the century of the internet. So when I sit in my unbearably comfortable chair, knowing of the sickening disparity between my position and that of almost any other deserving person around the world, I expect myself to be more than another lawyer lost in the shuffle.

But that's exactly what happened. Somewhere between my ranking and my resume, I became both nothing and everything. I found myself unable to keep on top of the grading curve. Turning in application after application and not knowing why I didn't get the job or if I even wanted the job - I found myself amidst the nothingness. To pull myself up, I aimed for the best positions and the most prestigious awards. I overlooked the achievements that the elite law profession under valued - I dismissed all the qualities and characteristics that can't be written into a resume even if they make for a good person. I kicked harder and harder until I built myself up as a competitive force to be reckoned with.

Now, I find myself starting the first week of the very last semester of law school not knowing what happened to the person who was once curious enough to write an honest blog post. All I have ever known, my years of academic achievement, will be behind me soon and I will find myself in the "real world" - a world where my character and my voice, not jibberish on a transcript, will determine my self worth.

So cheers to a new year - 2012 - the year that I have been calculating since I first contemplated law school in 1999. Cheers to the year that I finally find out that I exist separately and happily from my academic achievements. Cheers to the year that I move past my self sabotage, my self criticism, and my self consciousness. Cheers to the year that I find my peace within the center of my very self. And wherever that takes me, well...I guess we will have to wait and see.

Welcome Othello

Building Walls With Words

"Saddam Hussein is a man who is willing to gas his own people..."

-George Bush, March 22, 2002

"As he (George Bush) said, any person that would gas his own people is a threat to the world."

-Scott McClellan, March 31, 2002

"He poison-gassed his own people."

-Al Gore, December 16, 1998

Not many of us are shocked by these quotes that are unquestionable truths regarding one of histories worst villains. These sentiments are shared throughout both the West and East--a common ground that is increasingly hard to see with the constant bombardment of fear mongering, anger filled, unforgiving media. It seems that as the days go on, the common American finds the middle east more incompatible with western values and ideologies. As our seemingly different values surface through unstable waters, labels become evermore prevalent. With labels come walls.

I built a wall between you and me when you became someone outside of "us".

For example, in the field of education, when white teachers view immigrant children as "someone else's child" rather than "our children", this other child is perceived as inferior to our children. A child will only do as good as he/she is expected to do (most often this is the case). Students from immigrant families who attend immigrant dominated schools are far less likely to attend college than immigrant students who attend white-dominated schools. In white-dominate schools, teachers generally radiate high expectations to students regarding college standards. Students are not only informed about college--they are expected to go to college. However, students (white or non-white) who attend immigrant dominated schools are generally tracked for manual labor "careers" that more often than not require little to no education. They are not only uninformed of higher education but also learn to live outside the world of "the American dream" that promises opportunities for class mobility.

The moral of the story is this: a child who is treated as "someone else's child" is at a strong disadvantage with long term and often irreversible damage. This is just one of the many examples of the negative effects of labeling.

Now let's re-think this in terms of labels that unify a people. If I identify as a Christian and use the Christian label to bring positive steps towards building my community as well as my personal identity, good can come of it. However, if I get so wrapped up in this label, I may lose the ties between my own identity and the common humanity I once felt for the entire human race. I now no longer use my label as a means of unifying people, but as a means of excluding people who do not belong in my group. I smell danger.

Now I turn to the movie-goers and pose a question: why is it that more often than not, the villain of the story is not a white American? (I must here credit the more complex and creative films that tactfully avoid this cliche)

You may guess what my answer will be--if I identify with the villain, it will be harder for me to want his ultimate death or destruction. But if this villain has an unfamiliar accent and culture, I can enjoy whatever violent treatment he must endure at the hands of our cinematic hero. However, I must note that this "unfamiliar" accent is often times not unfamiliar at all--it is directly parallel to the people we see on the news as our very own villains which confirms how Hollywood and Washington policy are directly interlinked with one another. As we watch the anti-Arab racism that is growing exponentially prevalent in Hollywood, our friends in Washington (with our blessings) are losing their sympathy for "other peoples children" paving the road for increasingly violent and inhumane treatment of people labeled as "others".

Going back to where this entire discussion started, Saddam is known for the unrelenting violence that he marked this world with. However, the most shocking part of the violence for many people is that he committed it against "his own people". (I would like to humbly note that no Iraqi ever has or ever will belong to Saddam--not even his own children. His dictatorship over a people does not necessitate his ownership of the people because anyone at anytime still has free-will and free-thought. That is one thing he cannot rob the people of. Ina lilahe waina alahirajioon.) The reason I posted these specific quotes at the start is because of the underlying implications that often go unnoticed. McClellan notes the inhumanity of Saddam based on the fact that he is nearly indiscriminately violent. The point is not his level of violence, but that he inflict his "own people" with it. Now I pose the question, "Would it be any better if he did the same thing to people of another nation?".

Our labels have helped us hurt others without a guilty conscience. Should we feel more guilt if we personally know the people we are hurting? Is it significantly worse to hurt someone we know versus someone we are yet to meet?

Does the severed hand of a child found beneath the dirt of Gaza bleed any differently whether Arabic or Hebrew was counted on it's fingertips?

Wrapped up in flags

Today out of my brother's apartment window overlooking LA's Federal Building was another loud protest of horns and cheers. In their green t-shirts and dirty looks walked dozens of Iranians who look at me as if they know whose side I am on. Today was like all the other days since the election except for one thing...I looked up at the sky and saw an unfortunate thing. A plane flew in circles with a large green white and red flag with black font spelling "IRAN". Attached to the flag was the name "Cameron Yadadi".
I can't help but pause and ask myself, "but why?". With all the mayhem and misfortune occurring in Iran, with students protesting for fundamental rights, and with a government increasing international tensions, why must this guy use this chaos as an opportunity to advertise his name? Furthermore, why are Iranian-American youth who have stopped reading newspapers and books using these protests as an opportunity to rebel? If people truly respected what is going on in Iran right now and didn't want this to be just another set of deaths and injustices occurring in vain, I believe they should spend more time gaining knowledge than cheering at street corners in front of irrelevant buildings.

I'm just saying.

Turtles win the race again

I recently received an e-mail from a friend and it really made me stop in my tracks. It was a series of pictures of a bird trying to save it's spouse who was hit by a car. At the end, you see this bird mourning besides the dead one helpless. I then remembered the story about the hippo that was orphaned after a tsunami and a 100 year old tortuous adopted the orphan. I stopped and pondered, why is it that different animal species can watch out for one another while humans who are supposedly better in terms of morality can't treat people of different tribes, races, creeds and even genders with higher levels of decency.


So here I write...

And we say that we have evolved from animals but look at the differences in our nature and theirs. When a female dog lets baby tigers suckle her milk, when a donkey and a horse create a family, when a century old tortious protects an orphaned hippo, when these species coexist in harmony, we must ask ourselves, do we really think we are better than them?

We batter baby seals for clothing, rob elephants of their tusks for jewelry, skin tigers going extinct and bulldoze their shelters for parking lots, then we wonder why we can't all just get along.

Speaking out with spoken word

After years of telling myself to perform some of my pieces at an open mic...I finally did it! This was at NYU's Shuruq Arts Festival.

The first of many...perhaps

Baby Roya is here to guide me in figuring out what type of blog baby I'm having. Roya #1 says it should be one the upsets and confuses people. #2 wants a satirical blog but I think #4 is already bored at the thought of reading another blog. #8 is quite fascinated while #9 is getting ready to L-O-L. In the meantime, I suppose I'll stick to what I know best...poetry. I think this upsets Roya #10.

The first leaf only falls once

Ever since
we walked across the endless field
emerald needles tickling my toe

I stopped
inside maple tree shade
to watch the dying grass grow

I whispered
“The first falling leaf…”
but you were past gone

Gliding
my eyes sway with the leaf
dancing in the wind’s song

Wishing
you heard the grass hug
the leaf in a cautious embrace

Knowing
ever since the day you left
I lost the memory of your face