The Day I Decided to Go to Law School

I was sitting in a health and physical education class, learning how to wrap an ankle. As I watched the how to video, I couldn’t help but wonder: How did I end up here? And not just in this classroom, in this small Oklahoma town, but in this exact moment, learning and thinking about softball practice later that afternoon. What did I really want out of these next three years at OPSU?

I realized something: I didn’t want to study health and physical education. I had always been interested in marketing, specifically sports marketing. But when my freshman counselor heard the word “sports,” they immediately assumed I wanted to be a high school coach and history teacher.

As I watched a demonstration on ankle taping, my mind drifted. I thought about the kind of college experience I had imagined for myself: afternoons on a green lawn, listening to lectures under the sun. Heated debates about Hemingway, Aristotle, and Socrates. Diving deep into writers from my own culture, like Sandra Cisneros and Gabriel García Márquez.

Intellectually, I craved the arts: History, English, Philosophy, and Law. My AP English Lit teacher had cracked open that world for me in high school. We read The Awakening by Kate Chopin, The Picture of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde. My young mind had been lit on fire, and I wanted more.

By the end of class that day, I had imagined an entirely different future. When we were dismissed, I walked outside, pulled out my phone, and called my dad. When it went to voicemail, I left a message:

“Dad, I just wanted to call and let you know I’m changing my major. And I’m going to law school.”

I wish I could tell you I thought it through more. That I had talked to law students, shadowed attorneys, or interned at a courthouse. But the truth is, I made that decision suddenly, with very little information. At the time, I only knew two lawyers: one was a distant uncle, the other a softball dad. I definitely didn’t know any women attorneys, let alone Latina ones. Well, except one: Supreme Court Justice Sonia Sotomayor. For me, that was enough.

My dad, though, had always seen this path for me. He used to tell me I’d make a great lawyer because I challenged ideas, because I saw what others missed, because I could read between the lines. Growing up on prison grounds gave me plenty of perspective and plenty of time to read.

So, I walked straight to the Admissions Office. I told the student worker at the desk I wanted to change my major. That’s when it hit me: I hadn’t even decided what I’d switch to. She asked if I wanted to meet with a counselor. But I knew if I sat on it too long, I’d talk myself out of it.

That’s when I remembered what the softball dad once told me: “All you need to get into law school is a great GPA and a great LSAT score.” I thought about the subject I had always excelled in: History.

I loved my history professors. One wore rock band t-shirts under his suit jackets; the other asked questions that left me thinking for days. That was enough for me. I became a history major that very day, and in that very moment, decided I was going to law school.

I was still years away from the LSAT, let alone applications, but that was the day I set my course.

Because sometimes the biggest decisions don’t come after months of planning. They don’t walk quietly into your heart. Sometimes, the best decisions come in a single, unshakable moment—when you realize the unknown is exactly where you’re meant to go. Even though I still didn’t know the path, at least I was now on it.