I decided I wanted to be a lawyer when I was 11 years of age.

Hear, O seekers of purpose, the words of Johnnie Cochran, who declared with clarity and resolve: “I decided I wanted to be a lawyer when I was 11 years of age.” At first hearing, these words seem simple, a child’s declaration of ambition. But within them lies the seed of destiny, for in that early vow we glimpse the power of vision, the fire of determination that can guide a soul across the trials of a lifetime. It is no small thing when a child sets their gaze upon a path so demanding, for such decisions, though spoken in youth, can echo into eternity.

The meaning of this utterance lies in the wonder of early conviction. Many wander for years before they find their calling, drifting as leaves upon the wind. But there are some who, even in tender years, hear a voice within—a voice that speaks not of play or passing fancy, but of calling, of work, of destiny. For Cochran, to choose the path of a lawyer at eleven was to tether his life to justice, to argument, to the defense of those in need. And from that moment forward, every step became a preparation for the courtroom, every effort a stone laid in the building of his future.

The ancients, too, honored the power of youthful decision. Alexander of Macedon, before his teenage years, wept that there were no more worlds to conquer. The prophet Samuel, as a boy, heard the voice of the divine calling him by name. So also with Cochran: his words remind us that greatness often begins not in the wisdom of age, but in the certainty of youth. When the heart is seized by vision early, the years become a furnace that forges endurance, shaping the boy into the man, the dream into reality.

Consider Cochran’s own life. Known later as a fierce defender in the courtroom, most famously in the O.J. Simpson trial, he did not arrive there by accident. His lifelong commitment to law allowed him to hone not only skill, but style, passion, and presence. Yet more than fame, he carried the conviction that the lawyer’s role was to be the voice of those who could not speak for themselves, particularly African Americans facing injustice in a system often stacked against them. That conviction was born not in the courtroom but in the heart of an 11-year-old boy who dreamed of justice.

The lesson is not that all must choose early, but that once chosen, a calling must be pursued with devotion. For the path of a lawyer is long: years of study, endless preparation, battles fought not with swords but with words. Only a soul that has resolved early, and renewed that resolve daily, can endure its demands. Cochran’s quote reveals the power of early choice as a compass; though the seas of life shift, the compass holds steady, guiding through storm and calm alike.

Yet there is also encouragement here for the listener: that one is never too young to dream greatly, nor too young to set one’s course. Too often, the dreams of children are dismissed as fanciful, yet history proves otherwise. The child who says “I will heal,” may become a doctor; the child who says “I will defend,” may become a lawyer; the child who says “I will create,” may one day craft works that endure for centuries. In honoring their words, we honor the seeds of destiny itself.

Therefore, O listener, take up this teaching. If you are young, do not fear to dream boldly and fix your heart upon a noble path. If you are older, remember that the roots of your present began in the soil of your youth; return to those early vows and let them strengthen your resolve. Support the young in their ambitions, for within their voices may lie the beginnings of greatness.

So let Cochran’s words endure, not merely as a memory of his own journey, but as a call to all: to listen to the voices of youth, to nurture conviction early, and to live faithfully to the vows once spoken. For the greatness of tomorrow often begins with the dreams of an 11-year-old child, spoken simply yet carried for a lifetime.