Introduction

In college I took a class called "Philosophy of Liberation" where, for hours a week, we pontificated about what liberation is, how it may manifest in different ways, and if it is even possible at all. While these conversations were interesting, I was hesitant to dive deep into the class. There we were, philosophizing about the persecution of Black folks and other marginalized groups, and yet our conversation seemed so removed from the everyday realities of these groups. As we went through discussion after discussion, I found it harder to silence the voice at the back of my head saying, "for some people it’s about staying alive and finding a way to put food on some theoretically sense of liberation." Yet, despite my issues with the class, there were two questions that our professor asked us that stuck with me. "Who am I” and “What ought I to do?” While in undergrad these questions were at the forefront of my mind, since being in law school I've only recently asked myself these questions. It wasn't until Professor Moglen classes about building a practice, that I even remembered the two questions. I found myself back to the same questions but with seemingly less direction.

Who Am I?

Perhaps the more abstract of the two, the first question is one that I, like many people, have spent years struggling to answer. In undergrad where I decided that it was not important that I have an answer. I know my various intersecting identities as a Black woman, from a low income and immigrant background play a part in answering that question, but they don't tell the full story. While I was once content with leaving that question open and unanswered, law school has made me want to be fiercely protective of who I am, a task that is difficult to do without a clear sense of self. I am realizing that, to preserve myself, I must first, answer this question (at least in part). To be clear, that law school wants my various identities. Diversity is trendy and marketable, so it of course wants access to those identities. However, law school wants nothing to do with the realities of those identities. It wants low-income students until it comes time to help us afford the institutions. It wants Black students until we demand resources and "bring race" into our Black letter law classes. It wants disabled students until it is time to give accommodations and make its curriculum accessible. It seems that law school is not concerned with who I am, but rather who it can make me become. Can it turn me into a corporate robot, philosophizing academic, or smooth-talking politician? Can I spend the school year with my head in the academic clouds and my summers in my black and navy business clothes? Can I be molded? After months of playing a game, I did not even know I was playing, when Professor Moglen asked, "well what is it you want," I gave him the typical law school answer. "I want to work in Big Law." He did not accept this and pushed further. "Why?" "To support myself and my family?" We went back and forth until I gave him two words, "peace" and "security." Those desires are a manifestation of my sense of self. The low-income self and marginalized self wants security and stability, something that was difficult to by when I was younger. The health nut, wellness aware self, however, prioritizes peace and good health. The question then becomes whether the desires of these two selves can make me pursue coexisting actions.

What Ought I to Do?

Having somewhat answered the more theoretical of the two questions, I then moved on to the second. What ought I to do, to satisfy my various selves? This is the question that grounds the first in reality. It is the one that does not ignore the need to put food on the table, or the reality of barriers that a person needs to address to achieve their goals. In undergrad I spent a decent amount of time thinking about the second question, but not the first. I am more of a realist, perhaps due to my immigrant background, thus the second question has always appealed more to me than the first. Haitian culture tends to be laced with a sense of pragmatism that has become a foundation for how I process both my responsibility to my different communities and to myself. That being said, my previous attempts to answer this question were not fruitful because I did not have a clear answer for the first. While I believe I had some understanding of who I am, it is not a question that I thought I has the time nor luxury of worrying about. In my mind, survival came first. This meant actively thinking about “What ought I to do” and worrying about the “Who am I” later. Now that I have a clear answer to the first, the dilemma I face is having to balance the seemingly conflicting desires of my different selves. Wanting the most security, to me means making the most money with the least amount of risk. that is why the idea of beginning my own practice instead of spending time networking and securing a firm job scares me. One option almost guarantees me a starting salary of $215,000 while the later, especially given my lack of clients and connects, is such a huge risk that might lead to me being in even more debt. The fear of not paying off my loans is another one that is tied to my need for security and is pushing me to pursue Big Law as what I ought to do. My desire for peace, however, is pushing me towards the path involving building my own practice. At some point, something is going to have to give. As it stands right now, I am willing to let it be a little of my need for peace. In a few years, however, when who I am and my desires inevitably evolve, this may change.

Conclusion

Can there be personal liberation? I still don't know. If it does exist, however, I believe that it cannot happen without (1) a combination of those two questions being answered: (2) a pragmatic approach to the second question, and (3) a balancing act between the ever-evolving answers to these questions. As of now, my prominent self craves peace and security. The dilemma that I have struggled with this semester is the last one. Right now, at least to me, the level of security I want, seems to require giving up some of my peace. The anxiety I felt over this dilemma at the beginning of the semester, however, has lessened significantly. I'm hoping that I figure out how I want to balance out those two desires. Until then, I don't want them to destroy my present peace.

-- GueinahBlaise - 27 Apr 2022