Markers to a Brighter Future

My convoluted tale begins on May 13, 1989 with the bombardment of the Jewish Cemetery in Moldavia, Russia. My great-grandparents had rested in peace at this cemetery for years, until seven ruthless men destroyed the sanctity of their rest and the security in our lives. These men violated and ransacked eighty-three Jewish graves, and devastated the longstanding peace of the entire town. In the following months my family continued to be reminded of their Jewishness; my mother was denied numerous jobs and my father was fired from a position he had held for over twenty years. For Jews, daily routines became intimidating moments; it became almost impossible to buy houses and cars, take vacations, or simply to enjoy a quiet dinner in a restaurant. At the same time, the Soviet Union had made it almost impossible for Jewish girls to receive a university education. This closed door forced my parents to search for other opportunities for me. No longer willing to bear the religious intolerance that now characterized our town, my parents made a painful decision to emigrate to the United States. The desecrated tombs became our markers to a New World.

The emigration process was long and tedious, but my parents’ overwhelming tenacity to provide a better life for me conquered the hardships we encountered along the way. Sleepless nights outside the American Embassy in Moscow for the sake of a mere interview hardened my parents’ resolve. Sometimes we were forced to sleep standing up for several nights in a row in order to preserve our place in line. Once the interview portion was completed we were subjected to countless medical tests and financial aid procedures. We struggled to overcome the agony of our family being dispersed across the United States. Only my maternal grandparents and my parents would accompany me to Columbus, Ohio because of the limitations of the sponsorship program. Nonetheless, the glorious life that my parents envisioned for me eased their trepidation about the future.

From the day we landed at Columbus International Airport, June 9, 1991, I have been striving to fight mediocrity in all the endeavors to which I set my heart. Even without my knowing a word of English, I was enrolled in a summer camp where I was surrounded all day by only English-speaking counselors and children. Throughout the summer I built a strong English vocabulary, one that enabled me to enter the third grade at Columbus Torah Academy. In order to build my conversational skills, however, I attended an English Second Language course for half of the school day, and for the other half I attended the standard classes. The first year was a struggle: I helped my family learn a language I was still learning, did twice as much homework as everyone else because I had to translate every other word, and earned a few needed extra dollars for my family by baby-sitting.

By having to face adversity and struggles early in life, I was given the sacred opportunity of maturing earlier than my peers. As I look at the fragments of the shattered tombs in photographs, I double my resolve to work in a legal system to strengthen religious liberty and individual rights. As an attorney I want to devote my life to ensuring that the freedoms guaranteed by our Bill of Rights are never trampled.

For five years, my family income and opportunities were limited by our status as legal aliens. During that difficult but hopeful period, I became fascinated by the legal system. I watched my parents and grandparents spend hours studying American history so that they could someday exercise one of the greatest gifts of a democratic government: the privilege of voting. In 1996, I entered the courtroom for the first time in my life and took an oath as a naturalized citizen. This only increased my fascination with the multifaceted institution of law. My intrigue with the legal system was intensified when I had the opportunity to intern with a real estate lawyer during my senior year in high school.

While at Denison I acquired an even greater passion for the law during my volunteer experience (2002-2003; I will resume my position in the fall of 2004) as a legal aide for a pro-bono law firm, Southeastern Ohio Legal Service (SOLS) in Newark, Ohio. At SOLS I have been able to work directly with clients to make the dream of legal representation a reality for underprivileged people. I have drafted documents, met with clients personally and on the phone, conducted legal research, and have developed a more thorough understanding and appreciation for the intricacies of the legal system.