From Anthropology to Immigration Law: How a Study Abroad Experience Redefined My Purpose

It’s strange to think how a single decision can shift the entire trajectory of your life. A few years ago, I was on a steady path in anthropology, convinced that academia was where I belonged. I wanted to study culture, history, and human interaction from a distance—observing, analyzing, and writing. But then I went on a Youthlinc Global Community Leadership (GCL) trip, and everything changed.

I didn’t expect much beyond an immersive learning experience. I had traveled before, but this was different. Youthlinc doesn’t do tourism; it does community. The program’s core pillars—sustainable development, education, and advocacy—aren’t just ideas; they’re put into practice. We weren’t just visitors. We worked alongside local partners, learning from and with them. I saw firsthand the resilience of communities navigating systemic challenges, from education gaps to legal roadblocks that prevented families from securing a stable future. It was one thing to study these issues in textbooks. It was another to hear people’s stories in real time, to see how policies thousands of miles away affected everyday lives.

At some point, a shift happened. I realized I didn’t want to just study systems of power and oppression—I wanted to challenge them. I wanted to be part of the mechanisms that helped people navigate and overcome the barriers that kept them from safety, security, and opportunity. I found myself drawn to the intersection of human rights, law, and advocacy.

When I got back, I started working with a nonprofit that provides pro bono legal services for immigrants, putting to use the principles that I had learned in anthropology. Anthropology isn’t just about studying people; it’s about understanding them in a way that allows for meaningful change. My background in anthropology trained me to listen, to analyze cultural and systemic forces, and to use that knowledge to help people. I wanted to advocate. I decided to pivot, pursuing a Master’s in Conflict Analysis and Resolution with a focus on post-genocide reconciliation and human rights advocacy. After that, I’ll start law school, with the goal of practicing immigration law.

Of course, the road from there to here wasn’t exactly linear—or even entirely intentional. There was also Rose, my dog, whose unexpected run-in with the legal system solidified my next steps.

While on vacation in Yellowstone, I left Rose in the care of a friend, carefully explaining how her anxiety had worsened and giving strict instructions. They didn’t follow them. Rose, terrified and confused, bit an elderly woman on the butt. The next thing I knew, I was in court, defending my dog’s actions. I hired a lawyer in Logan to help me, and as we worked together, she took an interest in my background and aspirations. By the time my case was resolved (Rose is fine, by the way), she offered me a job as her paralegal. It felt like the universe nudging me toward the path I was already leaning into—one where I could put my passion for justice to good use.

Now, I spend my days immersed in immigration law, working with clients whose stories remind me of the people I met abroad. Youthlinc changed my perspective on what I could do in the world and what I should do in the world. Education and advocacy aren’t just abstract values to me anymore; they are the foundation of the work I’m committing my life to.

It’s funny how life works. I started with anthropology, ended up defending my dog in court, and somehow, through it all, found my real calling. If nothing else, I owe a thank you to Youthlinc, to the communities that welcomed me, and, oddly enough, to Rose—who made sure I got my foot in the door of the legal world, even if it wasn’t the way I expected.