Que le vaya bien

Justice. It's a good word. A loaded word. As a law student, I've sat through plenty of lectures where my professor sought to define it, so that we, future seekers and ensurers of JUSTICE would know it when we saw it. It wasn't until I went to my backyard that I learned what it was.

This summer, I was a legal intern with a legal services corporation that catered to migrant farmworkers and was located in my hometown. It's a long story how I ended up there, but the main factors that led to me taking this internship were that 1) they hired me before Thanksgiving and 2) they were going to pay me! As a law student looking for summer employment, you can't really ask for much more. Sure, I applied for the job because it sounded like something I'd be in to, but I didn't seek it out because I necessarily also wanted to seek out JUSTICE.

It's funny, though, how sometimes higher powers take the reins and steer you in the direction you are meant to go in. I am probably as card-carrying a liberal is there is, and I have also always been sensitive to social justice issues. But I didn't even really know what justice was. And I certainly didn't know why I wanted to seek it.

People who have nothing, and who are exploited on a regular basis have a much better concept of what Justice is. Talking with migrant farmworkers across the state of Michigan, there was a general sense of urgency for these people to have their rights vindicated, to make sure that they were treated the same as everyone else. As I sat across from a migrant farmworker at a table in her kitchen, I strained my ears to understand her passionate Spanish. She had been mistreated and she asked that I, "Legalmente Rubia" get justice for her, just like in the movie.

It was a joke. It was meant to lighten the mood. But this woman's comments also resonated in me for weeks afterwards. I can still hear her voice. I can still feel the vibrations on the table as she pounded her fist because she was so angry about how she'd been treated. This woman wanted justice, and she wanted me to help her get it. In that moment, I knew I could because I finally understood what justice was: helping people whenever I could.

As the founder of the United Methodist Church, John Wesley, said:

Do all the good you can,
By all the means you can,
In all the ways you can,
In all the places you can,
At all the times you can,
To all the people you can,
As long as ever you can.

If that's not justice, I don't know what is.  I'm hoping to keep looking for justice and giving it to the people who need it for the rest of my life, starting NOW. As the people I was serving this summer would say, "Que le vaya bien," or I hope things go well. Here's to hoping ;)