Why Law

A Love Letter to Systems, Stories, and the Spaces Between

I have always been drawn to systems. Not for their structure alone, but for what happens when that structure meets the messiness of life.

In the cockpit of a helicopter, systems were my safety net and my challenge. I learned to trust them and question them in the same breath. I studied their limits, not just their design, but their human edge. Because no system is perfect. And every system, at its core, is made for the people who rely on it.

This is how I found law.

Not through statutes or precedents, but through a desire to understand how systems serve — or fail — the people within them.
Law is the framework we build around our collective hopes and fears. It is the system that holds stories, that carries pain, that offers resolution, or at least tries to.

I came to law the way I came to aviation:
Curious. Critical. Wanting to understand where the breakpoints are, and how we make them stronger.

In aviation, I ask: What happens when a system fails? How do we make it resilient?
In law, I ask the same. But here, the stakes are human stories: ideas, creations, rights, voices.

This is why Intellectual Property Law feels like home.
It sits at the intersection of creation and protection. It guards the innovators who push us forward, the ones building systems and ideas that change the world.
And I understand those systems — aviation, aerospace, technology — because I have worked within them, studied them, flown them.

But I also know that law is not just protection.
It is an act of listening. Of bearing witness.

This is what I have learned through my work with SpeakEasy: that justice is more than outcomes. It is about giving voice to those who have been silenced. It is about designing systems that can hold complexity, that can hold grief, that can hold hope.