Long before she came to UCLA School of Law, Ayisha Siddiqa ’27 left her mark on international environmental law. From advising the secretary-general of the United Nations to founding a groundbreaking legal tribunal, Siddiqa earned renown as a conscientious and dynamic climate advocate – so much so that Time magazine named her a woman of the year in 2023.

Siddiqa comes from a small tribal community in Pakistan and has spent six years working with frontline communities that are affected by climate change, helping shape international legal frameworks through her work at the UN Climate Change Conferences. Now, as a UCLA Law student, she is channeling that wealth of expertise into her legal studies.

In this edited conversation, Siddiqa discusses her transition to law school, her ongoing work in climate justice, and her vision for using legal education as a tool for systemic change.

What inspired you to pursue a legal education?

At the international level, much of the fight for climate justice comes down to legal precedent, how we define state responsibility, how we interpret human rights, and ultimately, who is protected under the law. That understanding led me to law school. I saw firsthand how the law could be a powerful tool for justice but only if those who understand its mechanics are willing to wield it for the right reasons.

I come from a small tribal community that has been denied the privilege of clean air or water. Never in my ancestors’ dreams would I have been the one sitting across from the world’s most powerful officials, let alone drafting legal arguments that will shape international human rights law for generations to come. But here I am studying the law not as an abstract academic pursuit, but as a necessary instrument of justice.

Considering the demands of your climate work and law school, how do you find balance?

Self-care, for me, is not about detaching from the work, it's about remembering that this work is bigger than any one person. That perspective allows me to stay grounded, even in the most overwhelming moments. Law school has felt consuming, and I have had to be intentional about how I structure my time. About 60–70% of my energy is dedicated to mastering the law, while 30–40% remains committed to the work that reminds me why I am here in the first place.

One of the most meaningful projects I am working on is the Future Generations Tribunal, which I founded to help codify the legal rights of future generations in international law. This past December, I served as the expert author on human rights for the People’s Petition a landmark legal document submitted to the International Court of Justice as it deliberates on states’ human rights obligations in the context of climate change. Writing this submission was not just about legal arguments; it was about ensuring that the lived experiences of frontline communities were present in the world’s highest court. At the same time, I was writing my first graded 1L memo. It was an intense period, but there was never a moment where I questioned if it was worth it.

What should rising advocates keep in mind as they consider attending law school?

There is a culture within legal education that pushes students toward traditional paths, often equating success with financial wealth. For many first-generation law students, there is immense pressure to see this as their one chance to achieve generational security. While financial stability is important, it is not the only measure of success. There is wealth in service. There is power in protecting what is irreplaceable.

If you are entering law school with a commitment to justice, hold onto that commitment fiercely. Institutions will try to define your path for you. Do not let them. The world does not need more lawyers who accept the law as it is. It needs those who understand that law is a living force, one that must evolve toward justice. The future of the law is not predetermined; it will be written by those bold enough to redefine it.