Personal
Statement
Jordan
A
.
Reyes
•
LSAC
Credential
Assembly
Service
No
. 1234-5678-90
The
summer
I
turned
sixteen
,
I
watched
my
neighbor
Mrs
.
Alvarez
stand
on
her
porch
in
Chicago
'
s
Humboldt
Park
with
an
eviction
notice
in
one
hand
and
her
grandson
'
s
birthday
cake
in
the
other
.
The
cake
was
melting
.
The
notice
was
not
.
I
did
not
know
then
that
this
image
would
shape
the
next
decade
of
my
life
;
I
only
knew
that
the
distance
between
what
people
deserved
and
what
the
system
delivered
felt
unbearably
wide
.
I
began
to
understand
that
distance
more
precisely
at
the
Mid
-
City
Tenant
Rights
Coalition
,
where
I
volunteered
throughout
college
.
Each
intake
shift
brought
a
new
education
in
the
architecture
of
in
-
equality
.
I
remember
a
retired
postal
worker
,
Mr
.
Henderson
,
who
had
been
illegally
overcharged
for
three
years
in
a
subsidized
unit
because
a
landlord
had
quietly
adjusted
utility
pass
-
through
formulas
.
The
arithmetic
was
buried
in
addendums
no
one
had
explained
to
him
.
Over
six
weeks
,
I
helped
him
compile
forty
-
two
months
of
receipts
,
draft
a
pro
se
complaint
,
and
organize
a
timeline
of
correspon
-
dence
.
When
the
housing
court
mediator
awarded
him
a
$
4,200
refund
,
he
did
not
smile
.
He
wept
.
It
was
the
first
time
an
institution
had
told
him
he
mattered
enough
to
be
made
whole
.
I
wanted
to
learn
how
to
build
institutions
that
said
this
more
often
,
and
more
loudly
.
After
graduating
,
I
became
a
housing
investigator
for
the
Chicago
Department
of
Buildings
.
The
work
was
technical
and
deeply
human
.
I
spent
mornings
documenting
units
with
collapsed
ceilings
and
non
-
functional
fire
exits
,
and
afternoons
writing
citations
that
too
many
landlords
treated
as
predictable
line
items
on
a
spreadsheet
.
I
learned
that
the
law
is
not
abstract
;
it
is
a
physical
reality
.
It
is
whether
a
child
has
working
heat
in
January
.
It
is
whether
a
senior
with
limited
English
proficiency
receives
a
notice
she
can
actually
read
before
her
home
is
auctioned
.
It
is
also
,
I
realized
,
a
choice
—
enforced
or
ig
-
nored
,
wielded
or
surrendered
.
Watching
skilled
attorneys
at
the
city
'
s
Law
Department
translate
ten
-
ant
suffering
into
enforceable
code
violations
taught
me
that
the
law
is
where
dignity
gets
negotiated
,
and
I
want
to
be
in
that
room
not
as
a
witness
,
but
as
an
advocate
.
My
goal
is
to
practice
housing
law
at
the
intersection
of
tenant
defense
and
policy
reform
.
I
am
partic
-
ularly
drawn
to
the
ways
that
land
use
regulations
,
zoning
decisions
,
and
subsidy
structures
interact
to
reproduce
segregation
and
displacement
.
I
have
seen
how
a
single
compliance
gap
can
destabilize
a
family
for
years
;
I
want
to
help
close
those
gaps
at
scale
.
Law
school
will
give
me
the
analytical
tools
to
move
beyond
fact
-
gathering
and
into
structural
argument
—
the
ability
to
turn
a
client
'
s
specific
crisis
into
a
precedent
that
protects
others
.
I
am
under
no
illusion
that
a
J
.
D
.
is
a
magic
key
.
But
I
know
what
happens
in
the
absence
of
trained
ad
-
vocates
:
cases
go
unfiled
,
deadlines
are
missed
,
and
notices
melt
into
nothing
on
summer
porches
.
I
am
applying
to
law
school
because
I
have
spent
years
watching
the
law
fail
people
who
needed
it
,
and
because
I
am
convinced
,
after
working
beside
tenants
and
city
attorneys
,
that
it
can
be
made
to
work
better
.
I
want
to
learn
how
.
1 / 2
The
cake
Mrs
.
Alvarez
was
holding
that
afternoon
was
for
a
boy
who
is
now
in
high
school
.
She
still
lives
on
the
same
block
,
in
the
same
apartment
,
because
a
legal
aid
attorney
helped
her
negotiate
a
repayment
plan
the
week
before
the
sheriff
'
s
sale
.
I
want
to
be
the
reason
someone
else
gets
to
stay
,
too
.
2 / 2
