Pulling into Wal-Mart in our white automobile on a bright starry night was one of the most peaceful nights I can remember. The sky was scattered with stars of all shapes and sizes. My dad, sister, and my dad's boss, Gunta, and I filed out of the car and walked slowly to the entrance. Since, Gunta gave my sister and I five dollars a day for walking her dog, I knew that I was going to spend it on clothes. Being only eight years old, fashion was a passion and hobby of mine, and still is. Going through the clothing racks meticulously one by one, I caught a glance of a black skirt  with ruffles swaying in the Wal-Mart air with the matching black top that had a promiscuous pink cat starring you down with a pink jewel as an eye.  My dad scrutinized the skirt as if it was some skimpy underwear only Las Vegas Showgirls wear. My dad claimed the skirt was too short and that it was against school policies and regulations. I claimed that the skirt was long enough to wear to school according to the” three fingertip” rule. I told him to let the record show that he needs to read the school handbook in which he didn’t. So how can my father make a claim if the skirt is too short if he didn’t even read the policies of the school? He is my father and as a parent it is your responsibility to read the handbook. I ended up getting this gorgeous black skirt and matching top along with my little sister. My dad only had one word, “Christ”, I laughed. Later in my life, I realized that this was the first time I ever advocated for myself and as well as for my sister. My father's strengths and weaknesses shaped my identity to be naturally inquisitive, outspoken, and to have a burning passion for the law in hopes of finding the truth and justice for all.
From the time I was little, my dad and I always had a loving and close relationship. He taught me how to cook simple meals that I thought were fanciful along with embellishing the apple tree with plastic eggs for Easter. My dad and I always hoped that neighbors and incoming people would freeze and gape at the beauty of the tree. I remember the time, when I was seven and my dad and I rode on his Yamaha Virgo motorcycle to Fair Haven, Vermont for lunch one hot summer afternoon. I have always been a really skittish person but, he helped me conquer my fear of falling off the motorcycle.  One of the most important memories of my dad was when I was entering Kindergarten, I was afraid to leave my dad. My teacher took a picture of us, me crying hysterically in his enormous strong arms. I kept that picture with me in case I got scared. He told me to not be afraid, be like a star, my star. I realized that genuine love will last a lifetime, no matter where you are. He made me feel secure within myself to do anything in the world. “Reaching for the stars” in anything you do, will inspire people to do the same.  Being academically accomplished, curious, and willing to learn, are qualities my dad instilled in me.
Even though my dad was a great dad on an emotional level, he had some faults like any human being.  My dad is a descendant from the American Indian tribe, Blackfoot. Surprisingly, he is racist against any other ethnicity but, his own and white people. All my life, I have heard things like, “those dirty Mexicans should go back to Mexico where they came from”; “there should be a law prohibiting black people and white people being together”, in a blunt tone  implying he meant it with all of his being. When he would say this, I would just nod my head slowly in agreement. What else could I do? I was nine years old at the time with no frame of reference of what was really right and wrong in the world. These side comments of prejudice affected me very much. This incident gave me a looking glass into the real prejudices in the world and an opportunity to decide what is right and wrong and to think to myself.  This lead to my morals being that everyone is equal in the eyes of the law and in society.
My dad would also impulsively lie to many people on a daily basis. He would lie to my mother and to me many times, on where he had been.  He was out with his friends and other women that weren't my mother. He thinks I still don’t know.  One time he even lied about the magnificent pool he bought for my sister and I to swim in one muggy summer. The water glistened as we swam around the ovular shape. At the end of the summer, he would put a hole in the pool by thrusting the a zigzag shaped knife into the pool's bodice, while hauling it on the top of our Ford to bring it back to K-Mart. This incident made me realize that trust and truth in any relationship is important to have. Telling the truth is a measure of your values. As much and I love him, I didn't want my true values being of my dad's.
There have been many lessons I have learned through my dad's actions, good and bad. They have made me form a different personality as well as a different outlook on the world around me. I learned to advocate for what you believe in because no one else will do it for you. You can do and be anyone you want to be, as long as you work for it, and feel secure within yourself to believe in the possible outcomes that await. Everyone is equal in the eyes of the law and in society. If this was considered in everyone's morals we wouldn't have to have as many lawyers! Being a lawyer will give me the opportunity to find the truth of people in hopes of helping someone that is defenseless. My mother was defenseless against my father's obscene actions, she didn't advocate for herself. She couldn't face the truth, and still can't.  Finding the truth will give people the peace of mind to explore the world and discover who they want to be; through a looking glass labeled: past, and a magnifying glass labeled: future. You learn from your bad experiences in order to form “good” in the world and in yourself.