begging for the bar

how crowdfunding exposed my network and cracks in the system

Since my last post panhandling for tips, we’ve raised over $6,000, fully funding me for the next couple of months while I devote myself to full-time bar prep.

I’ve felt a spectrum of emotions: “I feel like both a mogul and a beggar, the prince and the pauper rolled into one. There’s something strangely intoxicating about sharing your story and watching it resonate with people. The keystrokes become sentences, and those sentences ripple outward, affecting readers in ways you couldn’t anticipate.”

Now, with the goal reached, I also have final data on who donated. I also got valuable insight into who really fucks with me—or rather, who fucks with me enough to invest a few dollars into my future.

I sort of gamified this by releasing donor statistics at 62%, with my call to action implicit and supported through social proof. I was always ahead of where I thought I’d be, however, as I’d set an ambitious goal of $9,000. In reality, I aimed for about $6,000 to cover living expenses for the next 2.5 months.

The donor stats elicited more donations, and by the time I adjusted my goal, I was at 99%. I wrapped up the campaign with some IG stories, inspiring one final donation from an attorney mutual of mine. We’d never interacted beyond following each other, but the kindness of strangers continued to astound me.

I had reached for the moon and landed in the stars.

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Highlights from the Final Donor Report

• Average donation: Increased to $66

• Gender split: Men narrowed the gap, but women still led at 61%

• Strangers: Stayed steady at 49%, while friends’ contributions increased by 2%, eating into Aggies’ market share

• Ethnicity trends: Blasia continued to outperform, though a generous final donation came through for Latinos

I can’t complain about these results. I opened my laptop and bled on the page, laying bare my precarious financial situation. My story resonated, and I had not, in fact, exhausted all goodwill from my network.

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Reflections on the Campaign

In a weird way, it felt like a political campaign: presenting the most palatable version of me for mass consumption. Of course, I wasn’t going door-to-door, but it felt like an online campaign akin to my discovery of AOC when she first burst onto the political sphere. I got ads on Facebook for an election states away, and even though I couldn’t vote, I supported this beautiful, progressive Latina from afar.

In my own campaign, I felt motivated to do things I wouldn’t for any previous employer. Once, I’d interviewed at Primerica, and they asked me for 10 contacts. I didn’t want anyone I knew being accosted for business, so I ignored their request. This starkly contrasts with my hustle during my campaign.

After analyzing donor data, I went through my rolodex and began reaching out to old teachers, former mentors, even ex-lovers to solicit donations—and it worked. I felt like a salesperson, except I was selling myself. I became an investment property, with people coming together to invest in my future as a legal professional. My donor list was the clearest manifestation of this concept.

I don’t feel bad about it. I made no Faustian bargain, nor did I compromise any morals. I’m half-kidding when I say I have shareholders now, but this accountability is motivating. It’s not very different from the attorneys at my workplace who are accountable to their clients.

I feel accomplished. Self-efficacious. A mini mogul.

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Beyond Personal Success

i’m just a man.

My personal success, however, should neither be an example nor the standard. After announcing the campaign’s end, a friend told me my story was inspiring. Perhaps that’s what I was going for when I wanted money, but this isn’t solely my story.

Throughout law school, the statistic of 5% reverberated in my brain. Only 5% of U.S. attorneys are Black. The whiteness of the space often threatened to wash over and transform me, leaving me feeling like an impostor. I’m sure the stats are similar across all minorities, but that 5% stuck with me.

This is because of barriers like the one I now face with the bar exam. Even the exam itself is a barrier—but that’s a conversation for another day. Getting through undergrad requires not just effort but resources, as does preparing for the LSAT. These two numbers, LSAT and GPA, carry disproportionate weight.

I’m not advocating for relaxed standards for law school admissions. I’m advocating for the financial undergirding of these numbers. Law school comes with cost upon cost: business professional wear, textbooks, bar prep courses, and exam fees.

I’m a quick study, and while I may always feel like a class interloper, I can hang. The issue isn’t capability—it’s cash. And it’s where many people are lost.

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A Systemic Issue

I won’t criticize my law school too harshly. They’ve been generous with financial aid, thanks to their endowment and ambitions. They’ve supported me through my job search, understanding that my success is their success.

But my story isn’t inherently inspirational. It’s one of hunger, ambition, and want. I’ve literally skipped meals while living paycheck to paycheck. Even after earning a professional degree, I’m still mad as hell—I made more as a teacher with fewer credentials.

This campaign has funded me for the next couple of months, but it doesn’t guarantee fair compensation in the future. Yes, I’ll be well-prepared for the bar and have a higher likelihood of passing, but nothing is guaranteed. Nor does it guarantee that others won’t face the same hurdles.

I’m used to unpaid internships in law school—a situation that once pushed me find other money in other ways. But young legal professionals shouldn’t have to be serfs for their firms. If firms want us to pass the bar, they should offer bar stipends and cover exam fees, just as they pay for legal assistants to become notaries.

I’m still in want. My stomach may be full, but I’m hungry for more. My ambitions extend beyond my own advancement—they’re about our collective progress. Becoming a lawyer shouldn’t be this hard at the back end.