From Creativity to Courtroom: Redesigning my Future
Song Of The Week
If walls could sing, they’d probably sound a lot like Iniko’s "Jericho"—a powerful anthem that tears down barriers with soulful finesse. From the very first note, this track grabs you by the heartstrings and refuses to let go. It’s a blend of raw emotion and smooth vocals that feels like a musical hug wrapped in velvet and grit.
Iniko’s voice is a poetic force, weaving through layers of layered beats and haunting melodies. The song carries a spiritual undertone, drawing inspiration from the biblical tale of Jericho’s walls tumbling down, but Iniko flips it into a personal and modern narrative about breaking free from internal struggles and external limitations.
“Jericho” doesn’t just play; it resonates. Whether you’re navigating your own obstacles or just in need of a sonic pick-me-up, this track is like an uplifting chant for the soul. Perfect for those moments when you need to remind yourself: walls aren’t meant to hold you back forever.
Professional Development
Contrary to popular belief, explaining my shift to law school is something I find difficult to report to people not only in my circle but also to strangers who don’t know me. Going to law school is seen as prestigious and a very challenging experience. Some people know at a young age they want to be lawyers and their life has been geared to law school—everything from volunteering in legal clinics to majoring in political science. Others take the STEM route, eager to explore the technical side of legal writing and problem-solving. And they do very well with logical thinking and reading.
And then, there’s me: an arts major.
Showcasing built skills set
While any and all majors can go to law school, I still find it difficult to explain my shift. Which makes sense—my shift is deeply personal. It’s about how I saw myself in the future and what I am good at versus what I can do. School has shaped me. I love to do the work, and I thrive when I know exactly what I need to accomplish. I am a structured person, but my creativity has no schedule.
It didn’t hit me until after graduation that, in order to survive in capitalism through design, my creativity would always have to be on. That’s just not how my brain works, nor how I see my creative process. My creativity has always been fueled by curiosity, connection, and play, definitely not the pressure to produce. Graphic design demanded that my best ideas appear on command, even when my brain felt quiet. And when my brain did quiet the world definitely wouldn't wait on me to magically have it again.
Law, on the other hand, offered something different: a challenge built on discipline, research, and critical thinking skills I had been honing my entire academic life without even realizing they could lead here. My design and philosophy background gave me an ability to see problems from multiple angles, to make meaning from ambiguity, and to articulate ideas with precision. It is my edge compared to the unusual routes of law school. Rather than dreaming of being a lawyer, I can see reality in being a lawyer.
Funny enough, I don’t view law as abandoning my creative side or restricting it as only a hobby, instead what I do is restructure my creativity into words. Instead of creating visuals to solve problems, I could craft arguments. Instead of designing layouts, I could design strategy for a courtroom. Words are still an artform like poetry, literature and lyricism rather than visuals that I am used to. And perhaps most importantly, I could merge structure and creativity in a way that didn’t drain me— it energized me.
Creativity with the tongue
Recently, I picked up Thank You for Arguing by Jay Heinrichs. I am only on Chapter 8, but it’s been eye-opening. The book dives into the ways English can be twisted, not always maliciously, but strategically. To persuade, misdirect, inspire the other person/ people. Aristotle, often called the father of argument and philosophy, saw this potential centuries ago. He understood that language isn’t just a tool for communication; it’s a tool for influence. Reading this, I realized how much of my design and philosophy background already prepared me for this skill. In design, I learned how to guide the eye and shape perception without saying a word; in philosophy, I learned to question beliefs and trace the logic beneath them. Law feels like the intersection of those worlds and now have shifted my space to words are my medium and strategy is my canvas.
Going in this direction for my personal statement doesn’t just show why I want to study law, it also highlights the unique strengths I bring to the table. It allows me to frame my shift not as a detour from the arts, but as an evolution of the same skills I’ve been cultivating all along: the ability to see patterns, communicate meaning, and approach problems with both creativity and discipline. In the competitive world of law school admissions, that blend of structure and imagination is not only my story, it’s my advantage.
Paired with my background, you can see how I struggle with deciding which experiences to expand on and which to leave out when I’m limited to only two pages. Three would be the perfect number—but I digress. The real challenge is organizing my thoughts in a way that captures both my reasoning and my personality. I need to express my emotions through writing so that my application doesn’t just meet the requirements, but leaves the reader with a sense of who I am and why I belong in law school. Not only so I can get in, but so I can start this next chapter knowing I told my story with honesty, clarity, and purpose. It’s a tall order and I only have a couple of months, so send me your prayers and good luck wishes, I need all I can get.
Motivation of the Highest Power
I have been in need of some serious motivation to get me to push myself these next couple of weeks, that’s I chose Jericho by Iniko. This song has been on repeat for me lately, not just for its sound, but for its message. Jericho is a powerful, motivating reminder that life isn’t just about you in the present moment. It’s about the past that shaped you, the present you’re navigating, and the future you’re building. Listening to it reminds me that my path to law school isn’t mine alone—it’s also the result of those before me who paved the way, and it’s connected to those who will come after me, who I hope to inspire and support. It’s a grounding reminder that my story is part of a much bigger one.
Enjoy This Journey With Me
° 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ₒ 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 °
Enjoy This Journey With Me ° 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ₒ 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 °
This isn’t the end—just a bookmark in the conversation. Stories don’t really close; they unfold, shift, and find new voices. If this one stirred something in you, let it breathe. Leave a thought, challenge an idea, or carry it forward in your own way. And if you ever feel like wandering through more unfinished thoughts, you know where to find me. Let’s keep the conversation alive. ~XOXO
