Prom(etheus), Pandora’s Mailbox & Personal Statements
Posted: March 25th, 2005 | Author: themarkpike | Filed under: Stuff |Law schools are just starting to send out their decisions. In the past week, I have been accepted to 3 schools and waitlisted at 2. I am hoping that being on a waitlist is a lot like being somebody’s second choice for prom. The chances are, most of the hot people were asked months in advance, so you’re gonna get stuck with me and my tux and like it.
Posted below is the Personal Statement I sent with my law school applications. If you plagiarize it, I’ll see your ass in court in about 3 years. I’ll even wear a tux.
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In the Sunday shadows of El Rastro, the largest flea market in Madrid and the world, I would meet my dealer. Each week he would prepare me an envelope full of decaying antique photos and I would hand him a couple of coins. The transaction complete, I would return to my residence and empty the envelope on my desk and write short stories using the anonymous faces from the photos as my inspiration. I tried to breathe life into their forgotten voices.
One day, my dealer was curious and asked me what I did with the photos. In fractured Spanish, I tried to explain my creative writing exercises without sounding like a closet freak. He smiled, and nodded his head to signify that it all made sense to him. I asked him what he does when he wasn’t selling antique photos to foreigners. He leaned close and whispered, “Soy abogado”, embarrassed to reveal to the full-time flea market vendors that he had a side job as a lawyer.
On subsequent Sundays, we discussed American foreign policy, the impending war in Iraq and the power of peaceful protest. He answered my questions about Spanish history, and helped my futile attempts at understanding the bullfight and human nature. I recognized a parallel between his appreciation for the aesthetic of logic, searching for right and reason as a civil rights lawyer, and my own exercises finding order within chaos. We both sought to give voices to those who had been forgotten by society.
Upon my return to Duke University after my spring in Spain, I had an increased interest in the synthesis of my appreciation for photography and my studies in public policy. I was challenged by a professor to think of a way to give the local community the chance to empower themselves and tell their own stories. My buddy and I looked through my shoebox full of old photos, once again looking for inspiration.
We found our muse in the form of forgotten Photobooth photos. The strips of four photos dispensed by automatic machines always seem to have stories behind them. There are love letters, passport portraits, law school application photos, and inebriated exposures with friends. We thought it would be the perfect opportunity for everybody on campus to express themselves.
After performing some research and scraping together our bank accounts, we bought an antique Photobooth off of eBay. We worked out a deal with the Duke bureaucracy and moved the one ton piece of machinery into the middle of campus. Within a month, we collected an archive of over 500 pictures and questionnaires from the local community. It is a powerful collective narrative from the individuals in the Durham area. Since the initial opening of our first Photobooth, we have worked in conjunction with the Duke Law Community Economic Development Clinic to establish ourselves as a sustainable business operation so that more communities will have their chance to tell their stories. I have thoroughly enjoyed working with local lawyers to make sure that our visions can come true.
While developing pictures and developing business plans have been extremely rewarding experiences, I am now interested in developing myself into a community leader that has the necessary skills to empower my neighbors. My photo dealer in Spain taught me the importance of studying the histories behind social movements in order to understand the people living them. My experiences with the Duke Photobooth Project have taught me how to let the voices of friends and strangers speak for themselves. I now look to law school as a continuation of this empowering experience, an opportunity to develop my own voice while helping others to be heard.
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