Gatsby’s Extraordinary Gift for Hope

Three years ago, I walked into Admitted Students Weekend at Brandeis School of Law as an uncertain outsider. Last weekend, I returned for the third time — this time as a second-year student and ambassador — and saw myself in the hopeful faces around me. Each year I attend, I’m reminded why this is one of my favorite days in law school.

For anyone unfamiliar with law school traditions, some schools offer a day specifically for students who’ve been admitted to explore what the school has to offer. In a sense, it’s like an open house — but only for students who’ve already been accepted. You could think of it as a final sales pitch, designed to help prospective students make their final decision. At the same time, it’s more than that. Some students attending have already made their decision and are there because they’re committed and excited to begin.

I love this day at Brandeis because it was such a meaningful moment for me — and I love seeing that same wonder and excitement in the classes coming up behind me. Law school is a big commitment — financially and time-wise. The entry process is daunting and time-consuming, requiring a bachelor’s degree, acceptable grades, and a competitive test score. On top of that, with just under 200 ABA-accredited law schools in the U.S., many applicants — like me — don’t have a local option and must factor in where they’ll need to move.

I had never been to Louisville (or Kentucky, for that matter) and based my decision to come here solely on how the school looked on paper. I made my choice based on factors like out-of-state tuition, cost of living, the appeal of a city over a small town, and even the weather — I didn’t want to go too far north. I committed to Brandeis shortly after being accepted and attended Admitted Students Weekend to make sure I didn’t hate the school or the city, in case I needed to make a last-minute change in plans. The city was acceptable. But every interaction I had with the law school — from admissions to professors, administrators, and future classmates — was full of good energy. I knew I had found my home.

During my first year, the Admissions Department launched a new ambassador program. I applied and was selected to be one of the ambassadors. For me, it’s an opportunity to give back. In my previous career as a manager, I mentored others who wanted to grow within the company — just as I had — because I was grateful to those who believed in me. As a first-generation college and law student, I wanted to be a voice for those who might feel intimidated or out of place when surrounded by legacy students. I wanted them to know that if someone like me can figure it out without insider knowledge, they can too. I’ve learned that sometimes, all a person needs is someone who believes in them — even if only in a short, passing interaction.

Through my work as an ambassador over the past two years, I’ve come to see more clearly the process of going from prospective student to lawyer. During the school year, my tasks mostly involve giving tours. But at Admitted Students Weekend, I help welcome students and their guests, direct people for parking, assist with setup and cleanup, and participate in Q&A sessions. Aside from being a warm and welcoming face for the law school, I get to witness students right on the edge of beginning this journey.

Every admitted student — whether they’re still deciding or fully committed — is full of excitement about starting law school. For those who bring guests, often parents or significant others, you can feel the pride in the room. Everyone is excited. Many are nervous. Almost all have questions. Some want insider tips for success. Others want to know if law school is really as difficult as they’ve heard. This is where I can tell that some students just need to hear encouragement from someone just a step ahead of them. Maybe their family already believes in them, maybe even a lawyer or mentor. But it’s different hearing it from someone who just recently made the leap. It’s easier to picture yourself in the shoes of someone who’s just crossed the same bridge.

That’s the first big lesson I’ve learned: one of the best and simplest things we can do for those right behind us is believe in them. That belief can be the spark that pushes someone past their fear and self-doubt. There’s so much untapped potential in people — and sometimes all it takes to unlock it is helping them believe in themselves. That’s what leaders do. Those who’ve already taken the leap can turn around, look back, and say: “Jump. I’m here. You can be too.”

The second lesson I’ve learned is this: there is never as much raw hope, potential, and ambition in law school as there is in those just starting. You can feel it during Admitted Students Weekend and during the first semester. In The Great Gatsby, Nick observes Gatsby’s “extraordinary gift for hope.” Hope is one of the central themes in the novel — it’s what drives Gatsby to chase his dreams and build his empire. And yet, as the story reminds us, hope is fragile.

I see this same arc in law students and lawyers I’ve met through school and through my part-time job at a law firm. New students often start law school with a dream — not just a career goal, but a deeper desire to make a difference. As time passes, grades come out, internships begin, and the pressures of the legal profession start to set in. Like in life, dreams can fade. Hope can crack. And once it shatters, it’s hard to put back together. Gatsby’s gift was extraordinary because he never let go of hope — he carried it until the end. Even though his story ends in tragedy, his relentless hope carried him further than many others would have dared to go.

I don’t believe the legal community — or upperclassmen, or lawyers — set out to crush dreams. But we often hear phrases like “let’s manage expectations” or “be realistic.” Comments like “those grades won’t get you into a big firm, but maybe you can work at a small one” might come from a good place — but they can chip away at someone’s hope.

Many students start this journey for deeply personal reasons, with a desire to help others. But as the daily grind sets in, that fire can fade. My takeaway from this weekend is to keep my own hopes, dreams, and ambitions alive. Hope isn’t just fragile — it’s easy to lose in the busyness of life. Giving back to new students helps me rekindle that fire in myself. It’s a reminder not to let go of what first brought me here.