When I was in my junior year of high school, I didn’t have the slightest clue what I wanted to pick for my major. I told everyone biology, but I really didn’t like biology, it was just the quickest answer I had to the never-ending question, “So… what are you going to major in?” This trend carried on well into senior year, I still no clue what I planned to do with my life. Which was completely healthy at the time, but it didn’t feel like that to me. I would ask myself the question over and over again, “What do you like, what’s your job going to be, and what will benefit you the most in the future and help you make the most money?” And for two seconds, I would think about it and then give up and complain about how I don’t have a plan for the future, and I don’t know what I’m doing with my life. Little did I know, however, I was asking myself the wrong question, my mind was focused on “What did I like?” I continuously looked for what made me happy; nothing seemed viable, but then (after hundreds of youtube videos about success), I began to understand being rich shouldn’t be my definition of success. I started to understand just how short our human lives are and how much of a waste it is to chase wealth. So I asked myself, “What can you do for others?” I began to look at what emotionally takes me over when the topic arises, and it hit me harder than my mom ever had, that subject was RACISM. Whenever my family had dinners, it would always lead to politics and racism (AKA Trump), or whenever another story of police brutality and the death of yet another, the young Black boy shot dead, I would feel infuriated deep down. Dinnertime was my time to let out my anger, and my family shared that anger we would all talk about how awful these things were. It was our way of consoling each other because my mom being in corporate America surrounded by white men and my brothers and I being in almost all-white schools our whole lives, we didn’t have a safe space other than at home to talk about our feelings. If I said the things I said at home at school, I would have been put down very quickly. And I was…senior year, in my government and politics class (which was a joke, I could’ve taught myself more on khan academy, hell even youtube could’ve taught me more) I decided to start openly expressing myself. Turns out there were about two other people who shared my views (I was surprised), but the teacher most definitely did not, he would talk about liberals being the downfall of this nation, about how great America used to be. I sat eagerly waiting to go home because dinnertime was my escape from reality.
After I had pointed out racism and politics, etc., as my passion, I began to research if any majors coincided. And after a crash course video, I eventually landed on sociology. It talked about how society worked and explained why things are the way they are. Why racism is perceived to have “disappeared,” why the very foundation that this institution, the United States, is built on bigotry. It explains it all, I knew that racism was real and very much still around, but I didn’t know the whys. Sociology seemed like the perfect way to build my knowledge of the racial and ethnic issues we have here in the United States. With it, I will help those who are treated as inferior solely because of their race. I will be a civil rights attorney.