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Passion Case

Essay by   •  December 17, 2011  •  Essay  •  435 Words (2 Pages)  •  1,354 Views

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My Blackberry buzzed against the dark cherry desk. "10:18p.m. Unidentified caller..." I pressed "Ignore." It vibrated once more. Irritated, I picked up. "Hello, Ms. Hovanesyan? This is Officer Alex. There's someone who would like to speak to you." Within a few moments, a familiar voice came on the phone. "Hello, sweetheart? There's a big problem. I really need your help..." The two-minute conversation that followed shook me to the core. My eyes welled, my voice quivered. I bit my lip hoping it would stop the tears from flowing down my face. Pausing to take a breath and respond to the person I loved so unconditionally, my life shattered with a simple "click." The line went dead.

Doubting my ears, I stared blankly at the phone, continuously replaying the conversation. I attempted to grasp on to small details. A thousand questions swirled. "What do I do? Who do I turn to? What happened?" Maintaining my composure, I brushed the tears off my face to inform my family of the situation. Chaos reared its ugly head. Assuming leadership, I stepped aside and called a trusted friend for legal advice. Attorneys were called and consulted, questions answered brought more unanswered ones; as dawn broke, I knew this day wouldn't be a new one - it would only be the beginning.

My loved ones were too traumatized to help - each absorbed by their own thoughts, frozen and confused. Immediately and inadvertently, I immersed myself into the legal world. Meetings with attorneys, status conferences, evidence and timelines, I had no time to cope with the shock or face the heartbreak. Tears streamed from my face late at night when the rest of the world was fast asleep - I was alone. For some time, I blamed the justice system for ruining my family, my life, my confidence and my dreams. I found it to be a cold, desensitized machine - one that judged people by their mistakes instead of helping understand them. Detesting the lack of empathy and compassion, I questioned my aspirations of being an attorney. "How could I be one of them? They ruin lives and tear families apart."

Sitting in that chilly courtroom reflecting upon the past year, it finally dawned on me - law wasn't my passion. As harrowing as this experience was, it allowed me to demonstrate my strength, leadership, and perseverance. Most importantly, it solidified my decision to pursue a career as a social worker, primarily as a correctional treatment specialist. Having been at the forefront of this process, I grew to appreciate the selfless individuals who helped others face and understand their problems.

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