19
Lessons from Law School

In 2004, I took a job as a loan officer at SunTrust Bank. The following year I did a presentation at St. Thomas University, located in Miami. We went there to present banking options to the employees and to offer our services.

Classes had gotten out early for spring break, so on the day of our appointment not many people attended. Since I had long wanted to go to law school, when we finished our presentation I decided to walk around the campus and find out more about their program.

I met Dr. Roza Pati, who told me about their Master of Law (LLM) program in Intercultural Human Rights. The program was designed for lawyers who wanted to specialize in this area of international law.

God used something as simple as the school’s timing for spring break to allow me to investigate the program. Dr. Pati and I took to each other immediately, and she became my first mentor in anti–human trafficking work.*

At the time we met, however, I had no idea who she was or how much she knew about human trafficking. I also didn’t realize that meeting with her was my first interview to gain entrance into their program.

We started talking, and she was very open with me and talked as if she had already accepted me as a student. “In this program you’ll learn all about human trafficking,” she said to me. “You’ll learn about child soldiering. About domestic violence.” When she started telling me the specific things, especially domestic violence and human trafficking, I was shocked, and I knew that I had to attend.

“What is human trafficking?” I asked.

“That’s when people are bought and sold and used for purposes that they’re not intended for and that they don’t want to do. It’s slavery.”

Although I didn’t tell her, I thought, That’s me! But I kept silent about most of my experiences; I wasn’t secure enough to divulge everything of my past at that time. It would take years of studying there before I finally opened up.

Roza answered all my questions about the program, and she was sweet and gentle. She gave me a packet for prospective students. I took it home and filled it out. She later contacted me and wanted to meet with me and introduce me to the founder of the program, Professor Siegfried Wiessner. He would become one of my biggest supporters in moving beyond my abuse. The staff was composed of international experts who were writing textbooks and speaking for human rights around the world. Best of all, they were some of the kindest and warmest people I’d ever met.

When Roza officially interviewed me, she told me that everybody in the class was a lawyer. “And your coming in will be an exception.”

They are willing to make an exception for me?

I could hardly believe what I heard. I had my undergraduate degree, but I still felt inadequate. As I listened to her, I thought, God brought me here.

As part of my pre-enrollment, I spoke with Professor Wiessner, and we talked about my background. He handed me a fifty-page pamphlet he had written. “Take this with you and write me a ten-page paper on it. I’d like to have it by midnight Sunday.” That happened Friday afternoon.

The following Thursday I received my acceptance letter.

Tears came to my eyes when I read it. God had done another miracle for me. My acceptance—as an exceptional student—told me that God had overcome the obstacles for me and that I belonged at St. Thomas.

As I expected, Joel resisted my returning for further education. He always had a reason, the most common being, “That’s going to take your time away from the family.”

After several talks, we reached an understanding. I would study only after everyone was asleep so it wouldn’t interfere with family time.

I had to pray and discern the right path. Was it God’s will for me? If I went to school, was I being a biblically submissive wife? The more I prayed, the more positive I was that God had opened a door of service for me and I was to go forward.

I went back to Professor Wiessner and Roza and explained that I was a mother of two children and I also worked. To my delight, they were willing to allow me to attend part-time (another exception). They understood my situation, and being true human rights activists, they encouraged me and helped me once again.

When I got home, I could hardly wait to tell my husband about my day.

“I don’t want to hear about it.” He left the room and slammed the door. He came out demanding I perform sexually and threatened to cancel our upcoming vacation if I didn’t.

I cried because I wanted to share my heart with him. My first day of law school had been wonderful. Even though I wasn’t going to be a lawyer, I was excited. God had brought me to the school for a purpose, and with that education I could make a difference in the lives of other hurting people.

Money for the program was a problem. SunTrust, the bank where I worked, paid a third of my tuition—and I’ve always been grateful.

Roza frequently encouraged me. One day she asked, “Why don’t you apply for the Intercultural Law Review?” She was on the board, so I put in my application. I appeared in front of all my professors and other dignitaries. They asked questions and I shared a little of my background. I was cautious and focused on the domestic abuse. I wasn’t ready to come out and tell everything.

They accepted me as a member of the St. Thomas Intercultural Human Rights Law Review on Human Trafficking in 2005–2006. The law review was reserved for exceptional students to research and analyze articles submitted for publication in their prestigious journal of collective works by experts in their field.

While I was at St. Thomas, I met a professor who would also change my life for the better, Dr. Rev. Raul Fernandez-Calienes. I met him when my paper for the Women Moving Forward International Conference was accepted for a panel discussion. I had gotten several of the international leaders together and we wrote about our personal stories of women’s advancement. Those stories were later published in a book.

I also wrote an article on domestic violence for the online publication of the International Museum of Women. I used part of my own story. That was the first time I had anything published, and it boosted my sense of self-value. After that, I had the privilege of writing a chapter in volume 2 of a book titled Women Moving Forward, which depicted women overcoming obstacles. I wasn’t ready to write all of my personal story, so I wrote the story of my mother coming from Finland and how it impacted me. I used that story to compare women’s human rights in the United States to those in Europe.

During that time I was working on my master’s thesis, “Advancing a Better Quality of Life for Women and Children within the Church: Overcoming Domestic Violence in the Christian Society.”

The following year I was again on the law review, and the topic was child soldiering. I read many terrible accounts about children in war-torn countries. Usually the child soldiers were only about ten years old when they received a machine gun and a machete and were forced to kill.

I finally met a young man who had been a child soldier. He became my good friend, and I love him dearly. He explained that they were thrown into combat as soldiers, which is a form of human trafficking. Many of them were also drugged and used for sexual purposes.

St. Thomas had what is called The Bluebook, and I studied it thoroughly because that book contained everything I needed to know in the legal field. I felt as if I were learning a second language, but I stayed with it so I would be proficient enough to write and review those papers.

We reviewed articles sent to us to make sure they lined up with the Bluebook writing standard for legal papers. After we validated the pieces, we made a compilation of the articles for publication.

We studied other international human rights cases of torture, war crimes, genocide, crimes against humanity, child soldiering, trafficking, and domestic violence. During my studies, I became educated on the laws pertaining to women’s human rights. One such law really stood out for me, “The Right to Dignity,” Article 3, which states, “Every woman shall have the right to dignity inherent in a human being and to the recognition and protection of her human and legal rights. . . . [This includes] respect for her dignity and protection of women from all forms of violence, particularly sexual and verbal violence.” This statement appeared in the Protocol to the African Charter on Human and Peoples’ Rights on the Rights of Women in Africa. I read the words from the charter: “Every woman shall be entitled to respect for her life and the integrity and security of her person. All forms of exploitation, cruel, inhuman and degrading punishment and treatment shall be prohibited.”**

As I read those words, they made sense to me—and for my own life. If women in Africa were permitted to live free from violence and exploitation, why wasn’t I? I knew then that God had brought me to hear these words and gain strength from my sisters across the globe. I longed to be delivered from violence and oppression, even within my own home.

I did not have to take the abuse any longer.

As part of my graduation requirements, I presented a 110-page thesis. As I wrote words about freedom from bondage, I was being healed. At times the pain had been so severe, I had to stop and wipe away tears. I did the research with other women in mind, but I was reaping the primary benefit.

I put my thesis to practical use by starting a Bible study for women who were experiencing abuse. I had sought answers from the church on this issue, but now I saw that God could use me and my experiences to help others.

At Women in Distress, a domestic violence shelter, I had taken classes on abuse in marriage and had even helped a classmate who moved to the shelter because she was being abused. She heard that I was writing on domestic violence, asked for help, and came to my Bible study. Several other women from the shelter came to the study for healing.

My mother also attended and openly faced her abuse. I knew some of it, but I had no idea how impactful that would be for me and for her. As I learned to set boundaries, I was able to help my mother set hers. I also needed to teach my daughter the lessons so I wouldn’t pass down the message that abuse is acceptable. In helping others, I was also helping Mom and myself deal with past pain.

I graduated from St. Thomas Law School in 2007. That graduation day, God made me feel special, and I knew he had chosen me for his service.

While completing my LLM thesis on domestic violence in the church, I received a major shock: none of the local churches I surveyed had a program devoted to domestic violence, let alone a human trafficking ministry. (Domestic violence and human trafficking often run in the same circles.)

I took the next step, and in 2008, I enrolled in a PhD program at Nova Southeastern University in Fort Lauderdale.

My dissertation was on the vulnerability factors and lures used to recruit American kids into trafficking.

At Nova, they had a Biggest Loser program, and I lost fifty pounds. I felt good about myself and my self-esteem shot up. My husband, however, didn’t like it. “Now other men are going to look at you,” he said. By then his responses no longer surprised me.

The year I enrolled at Nova, I stopped working at the bank because the real estate market took a downturn. My husband asked, “Why don’t you come back to work for me?” Reluctantly, I agreed. I thought that working for him again might give us a chance to grow closer. Things should have been good between us. However, shortly after I went back to work for him the abusive behavior started all over.

This time something woke me up and helped me to make a decision.

__________________

*Later, Pope Benedict XVI appointed Dr. Roza Pati to be a member of the Pontifical Council for Justice and Peace at the Vatican. She is now one of the top international experts in the field.

**African Commission on Human and Peoples’ Rights, Protocol to the African Charter on Human and Peoples’ Rights on the Rights of Women in Africa, adopted by the 2nd Ordinary Session of the Assembly of the Union, Maputo, Mozambique, July 11, 2003; http://www.achpr.org/instruments/women-protocol/#3.