Great Graduate: Salma Mohamed

Photo courtsey of Salma Mohamed

Proud first-generation Egyptian Moroccan American Salma Mohamed turned the impossible into possible, building a legal career that honors her family values. 

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Salma Mohamed answered the phone from her honeymoon in Puerto Rico, newly married, days away from graduating from Seton Hall School of Law and already reflecting on how far she had traveled to arrive at this moment. Calling from Rio Grande, she spoke with the calm certainty of someone who had spent years learning to trust her own place in the world. 

For Mohamed, the journey from a working-class home in Harrison, New Jersey, to a future in big-law employment practice was never simply about personal achievement. It was about honoring sacrifice, expanding representation and proving that belonging is not something granted by others. 

"I'm the eldest daughter of a Muslim Arab family," she said. "And that came with its own challenges." Her father Ashraf emigrated from Egypt, her mother Jamila from Morocco. They met in the United States, where they built their lives through hard work, faith and an unwavering belief in education. "My parents always told me education is the most important thing because no one can take it away from you," Mohamed said. "So work hard for it." 

Growing up, Mohamed was the only Muslim Arab girl in Harrison. At Rutgers University, she majored in political science and communications and embraced the identity by joining the Arab Cultural Club. Her interest in law sharpened at 16, during the first Trump administration and the rollout of policies like the travel ban targeting several Muslim-majority countries. "I started realizing how much the law impacts people's lives in ways people don't even recognize," she said. 

Rutgers eventually led her to Seton Hall's Pre-Legal Program, a summer immersion designed to simulate the demands of first-year law school. For Mohamed, whose family had no lawyers or judges, the experience changed everything. "It gave me confidence that law was something I could actually do," she said. "As a first-generation student, I was intimidated. It felt impossible at first." 

After graduating from Rutgers and spending a gap year as a legal assistant, Mohamed arrived at Seton Hall Law as part of the Legal Education Opportunity program, known as LEO. The program's director, Assistant Professor Melanie Perez-Vellios, helped demystify the mechanics of legal education before classes even began. "I don't think I would have been as successful without LEO," Mohamed said. "It really set me up for success." 

Even so, law school tested her confidence. During her first year, she spent nearly every day on campus while her family quietly built a support system around her. Her mother cooked meals daily and kept her room in order. Her parents drove her to school in the morning and picked her up at night. "They were my emotional anchor," she said. "Whenever I panicked, they'd remind me that I'd overcome hard things before." She still describes her family as her "why." "I'm working hard because I want to make my family proud," she said. "That got me through the hardest moments." 

When her first-semester grades arrived, Mohamed could barely look at them. "My hands were shaking," she recalled. "Then I saw them and knew I made it." Her academic performance quickly opened doors. She secured a law firm position after her first year, an opportunity many students spend years pursuing. At Seton Hall, she found herself especially drawn to constitutional law taught by Professor Jenny-Brooke Condon. Later, in Professor Lissette Diaz's Family Law Clinic, she won a bench trial representing a client. "That experience really affirmed my commitment to helping people," she said. 

Outside the classroom, Mohamed served as vice president of the Muslim Law Student Association, advocating for Muslim students to feel fully included in campus life. When commencement was initially scheduled on Eid, student leaders raised concerns and pushed the administration to reconsider. The organization also advocated for stronger Ramadan accommodations, similar to those at peer law schools. "We have to be heard, and we have to be seen," Mohamed said. "Progress has been made, but we can always do better." 

She is equally determined to challenge misconceptions about Muslim women. "My father always wanted my sister Fatma and me to be educated, independent and financially self-sufficient," she said. "He's always encouraged me to have a career and be a working woman." To Mohamed, that support is not unusual. "Some of the strongest women I know are Muslim women in my family," she said. "They work hard, take care of their families and lead in every part of their lives." 

Her husband Osama Mahmoud, a Muslim physician whose family is from Jordan and Palestine, shares that same understanding of faith, education and service. Their marriage, Mohamed said, feels like an extension of the values both families prioritized: professional ambition grounded in community, compassion and cultural pride. 

This fall, Mohamed will join Faegre Drinker Biddle and Reath LLP in Florham Park, practicing employment law. She chose the field because it keeps her connected to the human side of legal work. "It involves people at really important moments in their lives," she said. "That's what drew me to it." She also plans to pursue pro bono work, especially for people who lack access to legal knowledge or representation. "Knowledge is power," Mohamed said. "I want to help make that accessible to people who don't have it." 

If she could change one thing from the world, she said, it would be imposter syndrome—the quiet belief that some people do not belong in the rooms they fought to enter. Mohamed understands that feeling intimately. She also understands now that it was never true. 

Before beginning her legal career, she and her husband plan to travel to Jordan, Spain and Morocco, reconnecting with both sides of their family history before returning home to New Jersey. The timing feels fitting: law school completed, marriage begun, and a future once unimaginable now firmly within reach. 

She leaves Seton Hall Law carrying more than a degree. She carries the sacrifices of two immigrant families, the expectations of a community often misunderstood and the confidence to walk into every room knowing she earned her place there.