Taking Pride in Who You Are
By Kirk Walter
For many, if not most, prospective law students, in addition to dealing with pragmatic and functional considerations around applying to law school — such as obtaining LSAT scores, writing a personal statement, or figuring out the application timeline — there’s also a persistent and worrisome question: Do I belong in the legal profession?
It’s rare, though, that we’re vulnerable enough to verbalize this question to anyone else, and even more rare that we’re brave enough to examine why we ask ourselves this question in the first place. For most of us, it arises from a disconnect between what we know about ourselves and what society has shown us about how lawyers look, sound, and behave.
As we celebrate LGBTQ+ Pride Month, we note that this month offers all of us, regardless of how we identify, an opportunity to examine this disconnect by exploring what it means to be “in the closet.”
No one is born “in the closet.” It's something we construct for ourselves, consciously or unconsciously, to hide those parts of ourselves that we feel might cost us something: a relationship, a career opportunity, our sense of safety, our sense of belonging in a community. When repeated time and again, this impulse to edit ourselves, or to conceal parts of who we are, builds until we internalize the idea that parts of ourselves are unworthy of respect, let alone pride.
The first time I told someone I am gay was in 1995. And yet, more than 30 years later, I still catch myself reacting to the sound of my own voice, wishing it sounded different or less “gay” — that it sounded more like what society taught me would be perceived as masculine and professional. It’s a difficult contradiction: to recognize that the voice that has carried you through the most meaningful moments of your life — from saying “I do” to saying goodbye — is still something you feel an urge to diminish, to silence.
This experience, though, isn’t limited to sexual orientation. It parallels other forms of internalized bias: the student who feels pressure to alter their natural hair, to anglicize their name, or to hide signs of religious observance to be seen as professional or make others more comfortable. This is how implicit bias operates. It rarely announces itself directly; more often, it shapes norms and expectations in ways that lead people to question or censor themselves before anyone else has the chance to do so.
While there are those who say Pride Month is primarily about visibility, I believe it’s more about challenging the notion that there is any part of you that must remain hidden for you to be worthy of respect, opportunity, or belonging.
For those considering law school, this means taking the idea that you need to change something about yourself to conform to the profession and reframing to understand that the profession needs to evolve and expand to recognize you and your place in it. Law schools are actively building communities of learners and future professionals who will interpret, shape, and apply the law in an increasingly complex world. Your perspective, voice, and lived experience are not distractions from that work. They are part of what makes it possible.
If you find yourself questioning whether you belong in law school or the legal profession, pause to consider where that doubt originates. Is it grounded in your preparation, or is it rooted in an inherited idea of who society has told you belongs here?
The work of becoming a lawyer is not about fitting into a narrow definition of professionalism. It's about developing judgment, empathy, and courage to engage with the world as it is and to help shape what it can become. Above all, remember that you belong here — not a version of you that has been reduced to fit a perceived mold, but your whole self, including the parts you may have been taught, explicitly or implicitly, to hide or silence.
