Personal Statement: Jimmy

Nothing’s worse than hiding who you really are.

Growing up bittered by the internal conflict of accepting my sexual identity, one that eclipsed my life, I now proudly identify as a gay man. It wasn’t easy though, far from it. My first-generation Chinese household upheld unspoken yet deafening rules—speak only what was considered acceptable and take methodical steps every which way. And so the fear of being abandoned by my family, my world, kept me quiet, empty, alone. I ended up abandoning parts of myself to be someone incomplete, yet presented as whole to the world.

Uncomfortably deep thoughts at the dead of night, only to be followed by unnervingly long silences that kept me awake. Dreamlike drives to avoid my truth for the time-being, which was all the time. Staring desperately at a mirror, hoping to reach a breakthrough, yet oftentimes ending up on the very brink of breaking that inescapable reflection.

How could I ever accept this part of me that ached to surface?

Two windows faced a pair of recliner chairs, where soothing steam from our mugs of freshly poured tea signaled the beginning of my journey of self-acceptance. That room of reflection in the back of her house, past her indoor garden of blooming orchards, each easily representing lives that she has touched, was where I found myself—spilling my deepest, most hidden thoughts during our therapy sessions. At 23 I sought help from Cecile, an outreached hand to the quicksand of an identity crisis I drowned in since I was 7, pulled deeper and deeper until I could no longer see any light, or any of me.

Who do I want to be? How can I be myself? Who am I? That’s when she offered me these now treasured words: “You will know when the time is right.” These words have since seeped into my overall outlook on life.

Two years of self-growth have since manifested in my life: coming out to my family; embracing sides of me that had long been face down under the weight of my fears; becoming whole by piecing together the lost and newly found aspects of my identity as a gay Asian American. However, life doesn’t turn out to be perfect even after all this. To combat this reality, I’m proud to have been selected as one of the founding diversity, equity, and inclusion board members at the immigration firm I work at. This opportunity to touch lives in a meaningful way has been a great start to effecting change around me.

Living in a country that’s rooted in social injustice, people with oppressed identities can’t help but feel helpless, especially with our history of the law backing the other side. Being gay and facing homophobia. Being Black and facing racism. Being disabled and facing ableism. The list goes on. Achieving the inner strength to fully embrace our identities—at times, like mine, with intersectionality at play—is just the first obstacle. From then on we face the societal discrimination that pounces on us at every corner we walk.

That’s where I want to step in. To lift lives up from the pits of inequality. To be a guiding force towards justice where injustice has prevailed. To show that law can be on someone’s side.

My passion for the civil rights legal field burns intensely, inflamed by the sparks of discriminatory injustices seen throughout history and still seen in today’s society. My heart tells me that it is wrong for lives to be crutched on the basis of having an oppressed identity, holding people back from equal opportunities, equitable treatment, and an egalitarian future. Attending law school means I would be one step closer to helping others visualize that kind of future for themselves. And so to move myself and others forward, I am pursuing this next endeavor in my professional career.