I became a man in law school. I don’t mean that in some tribal, or archaic sense where my coming of age was based on some feat of physical fortitude. I mean I grew up here. For the first time in my life, I was handed a pen and told to solve the problems that plague our society. I wasn’t asked to memorize problems and regurgitate tired solutions. I was taught to deeply consider the outcomes of every decision, to be thoughtful, yet critical, and then to make and own that decision. Concomitantly, I was pushed off campus to witness some of these problems first hand, and to help provide humble remedies.
At Penn Law, I was introduced to an entirely new community, made up of warm faces and inspiring stories from just about every corner of the world; a community rich in variety, be it religion, color, creed, or language. A community that has continuously demanded my involvement, and where genuine desires to learn, earnest friendship, and ubiquitous respect intersect to scale anthropogenic barriers. Where unity Shabbats and student panels on the American-Muslim experience fill every seat. Where friend groups traverse the political spectrum and speak multiple languages.