At my graduation, my father suddenly announced he was cutting me out. “You’re not even my real daughter,” he said. The room fell silent. I walked to the podium, smiled, and said, “Since we’re revealing DNA secrets…” Then I opened the envelope — and his wife turned pale.

While my brothers talked business and finance with him, I became obsessed with law, especially constitutional law and civil rights. At dinner, my father dismissed my interests with contempt. He used to say law was for people who could not make it in finance, that lawyers only reacted to problems instead of preventing them. At the time, I did not realize how bitterly ironic those words would become.

When college acceptance letters arrived during my senior year of high school, I had already made my choice in secret. I applied to business schools to keep peace at home, but I also applied to pre-law programs because I knew what I truly wanted. When Berkeley accepted me and offered a major scholarship, I understood that my life was about to split in two: the life my father planned for me, and the one I would have to build for myself.