This personal statement details the journey of a young Igorot, Krishan Bugtong Ubongen, from the Benguet and Bontoc Mountain Provinces of the Philippines to the fabric of American life. Rooted in her experiences of cultural richness and personal challenges, she is now driven by a passion for law, aiming to uphold justice and empower marginalized communities.
I know of two worlds--one alive with the honking of jeepneys, bustling streets sticky with heat, and the sweet-savory scent of street food intermingling with exhaust fumes. The other pulses with the hum of city life, neighborhoods with manicured lawns, and sprawling highways filled with speeding cars. At the age of ten, I left the first world behind. My family packed our lives in the Philippines into eight pieces of luggage, leaving behind the warmth of familiarity and the only home we had ever known, and moved halfway around the world to start anew in America.
Growing up, I was surrounded by a large, close-knit family. Weekends were spent with my grandmother, our eyes glued to WWE wrestling matches or Filipino telenovelas. In quieter moments, she shared stories of her wartime encounters with Japanese soldiers and the cultural traditions of our Igorot tribe. Other times, I would join my grandfather in harvesting coffee beans and feeding his chickens, ducks, and pigs, all the while learning the virtues of patience and hard work. His words "ada ti pagbalinam"--loosely translated as "you're going to be someone great"--instilled in me a profound sense of pride and responsibility, as if I carried my family's name on my back.
Every birthday until I turned ten was a comforting chaos, especially since I shared it with my other grandmother. There were drunk uncles clinking San Miguel bottles while sharing loud anecdotes, aunties exchanging chismis as they prepared homecooked meals such as lumpia and pancit, and my cousins, brother, and I playing hide-and-seek until the midnight sky blanketed us. While daily life often grappled with hardships--worrying about access to running water, how to afford tomorrow's meal, and stretching every peso--these celebrations provided a much-needed escape. The symphony of our laughter, the rhythm of our footsteps in play, and the gentle strumming of my uncle's guitar are woven into my most cherished memories.
When I turned eleven, I cried. As my parents and brother softly sang "Happy Birthday" to me around the small dining table in our apartment, I felt the palpable absence of the rich familial atmosphere that had once been the cornerstone of my upbringing. Tears flowed steadily, and it was then, amidst the echo of their voices, that I truly felt the weight of my loneliness. Every birthday since has been marked by a quiet solitude, serving as a poignant reminder of all that I left behind.
In fifth grade, my limited English and heavy accent became the target of ridicule, further isolating me and deepening my longing for the nurturing embrace of my family back home. Desperate to fit in, I sought to lose my Filipino identity entirely--opting for turkey sandwiches over my mom's adobo, adopting the latest fashion trends, erasing my accent, and even going so far as bleaching my olive skin. The pressure to assimilate was overwhelming, and the cost of acceptance--suppressing parts of who I was--was a price I naively and willingly paid. But through books, I found refuge and a sincere sense of belonging for the first time in a long while.
As I immersed myself in literature, particularly the works of Fredrik Backman, Khaled Hosseini, and Mitch Albom, I found not just stories, but echoes of home and fragments of the identity I had once sought to discard. Their narratives unraveled layers of complexity, teaching me the grace in authenticity, the freedom in forgiveness, the strength inherent in differences, and the resilience of the human spirit. Through the lens of literature, I slowly navigated the whirlwind of emotions surrounding my conflicting identities, bridging the past that shaped and guided me with the present I was learning to embrace. I found a way to adapt, to absolve myself of the shame I had harbored towards my background, and to find genuine peace in a home away from home.
Just as I found compassion and understanding through stories, I observed their tangible applications during my legal internships and professional experiences, spanning personal injury to criminal law. Literature underscored the significance of valuing diverse perspectives, empathizing with the marginalized, and advocating for the underrepresented, while my exposure to the legal field provided the practical tools to translate these principles into action. Having witnessed the harsh realities and inequities of my childhood in the Philippines, my resolve to effect meaningful change has only intensified. My parents' unwavering belief in me and the memory of my grandfather's steadfast faith in my potential serve as my lifeline on this path. Ultimately, the fusion of my literary explorations, personal experiences, and commitment to equity and human rights drives my pursuit of law, with the hope of making a difference in communities like the one I left behind.
From the heart of the Philippines to the pursuit of justice, Krishan Bugtong Ubongen's story serves as a reminder that our identities, shaped by culture and heritage, are not obstacles to overcome but foundations that empower us. In the face of adversity, we find strength; in the search for belonging, we discover our purpose.
Krishan has consistently achieved at the highest level, graduating 9th in her high school class of over 600 students and earning the distinction of summa cum laude once more in university. Her dedication extends beyond academics--she has demonstrated the same discipline in martial arts, training in Taekwondo and Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu. Over the years, she has worked with a diverse range of organizations, from NASA and Harvard University to prestigious U.S. law firms, and has already gained experience working on federal cases through countless internships. We can't wait to see the lasting impact she will make in the legal field.