The emerging marriage between plant science and AI/machine learning is one that I am truly excited for and fully support as the solution to aspects of global warming, namely food insecurity. This technological combo is one I currently work with in my research and the ability it creates to discover new traits, overcome tradeoffs, and design seeds for specific environments, even at a nascent level, provides me proof and hope that machine learning, combined with our capabilities in plant biology will allow the world to create sustainable food for the future. By 2050 the UN projects we won't have enough resources to support our continuously growing population. We will be food insecure, and this food insecurity is directly linked to global warming and its impact on agricultural landscapes. Environments are changing--- this was inevitable, but what we failed to predict was the speed at which it would occur. As a result, we are falling behind the pace of climate change. However, innovations in plant breeding and AI/machine learning will give us the flexibility and speed we need to adapt our food systems alongside global warming. Traditional plant breeding (for crops with specific traits like high yields) takes anywhere from 5 to 15 years. However, recent innovations in tech such as AI and advanced machine learning have allowed plant biologists to design advanced databases and systems to create genetic sequences for seeds at a much more rapid speed. Combining advances in plant research with AI and machine learning tools, not only will we be able to generate optimal seeds for any environment, but we will be able to produce seeds in less than a year. By decreasing the time it takes to breed, not only will we be able to screen more traits for existing environments, we will be able to adapt to emerging landscapes as they appear and have more flexibility in this adaptation race.

I’ve struggled with bipolar depression since my junior year of high school. After six years of battling manic and depressive periods, I feel like I’m finally beginning to manage my highs and lows, and holding on to the pain created during depressive states is what has allowed me to do so. In each of my worst depressive moments what hurt me most wasn’t depression; it was the pain I’ve caused to those around me. Junior year, I vividly remember lying in my mother’s arms telling her I wanted to die. It is something that I will hold on to for the rest of my life because I’ve vowed I will never again let my mental illness consume me to the point where I allow it to hurt the ones I love. Now, when I find myself depressed, I think back to that time with my mom. I think about how six years later I still feel like I’ve committed the worst crime anyone could against a mother. I think about the pain she must have felt at that moment. I wonder if every time I am depressed, that she worries that memory will be recreated. For me, recalling moments when I hurt a loved one is like a hypnotist snapping their fingers to wake a sleeping person: it snaps me out of a depressive spell. Over the years I’ve realized I can tolerate hurting and disappointing myself, but not the ones I love. I haven’t learned to heal the scars on the relationships caused by my mental disorder, but I have learned to use the scars as a reminder to not let depression change me into a person I can’t stand to live with. Depression is a villain not only to those who house it but to those who are its neighbors. Although I am still learning how to allow others into my mental and emotional state, like the purpose of this scholarship, I believe opening a conversation is the first step. Not only with others but also honestly within yourself.

Overpopulation is without question, the number one contributor to global warming. It is also the most challenging to solve. You cannot (at least in the United States) oppose a person's freedoms, namely the right to pursue happiness. The decision to reproduce falls under a human right. In countries where this freedom is not guaranteed, such as China, we have seen what happens to a society, economy, and population dynamics when births are limited--it causes chaos. Considering the potential negative effects and the complex ethical and moral questions behind solving overpopulation, it would seem impossible to stop global climate change. That is, if you only consider overpopulation of people. Invasive plant species are another form of overpopulation that contribute to global warming. When a non-native plant displaces native plant communities, the overall productivity of the ecosystem decreases---carbon capture rates decrease. Algae, like land plants, when invasive can monopolize natives' homes and decrease carbon capture rates in the ocean. Algae are a critical component in the ocean's role as a carbon sink. More importantly, they are one of the few truly sustainable resources we have on earth. They do not require freshwater, valuable agricultural land, or herbicides and pesticides to grow. Knowing this, and knowing the fashion industry produces about 10% of global carbon emissions, PhyraThreads was born. Taking two negatives to create a positive, sustainable solution, fabrics made from invasive seaweeds will be the next greatest attempt to offset carbon emissions. PhyraThreads will use high-tech research techniques and bio-engineering to create a truly sustainable bio-fabric. Utilizing abundant invasive algal species, not only can we decrease the spread of non-native algae that will become dominant as the ocean continues to warm, we can introduce an alternative material to the fashion industry produced at zero carbon emission. The solution is exciting not only for its possible effect on global warming, but because as technology and scientific research advance, the kinds of plants used can be expanded, and the quality and variety of sustainable fashion can diversify as well. Above all, the best aspect is that the idea is multi-fold in value. Not only is PhyraThreads a way to reduce carbon emissions and combat global warming, it is an advocate for species diversity and will be part of a greater green movement in society's everyday lives.

“Alina, come help me water these,” Mom insisted, waving me over to the ugly bush lining our fence. “Noo, it’s too hot to move!” I whined with an intensity matching the burning sensation on my bare feet. But with the promise of a popsicle, my eight-year-old self swiftly changed my mind and held the blazing black hose over the bush. “This is a monkey flower--they grow wild in the Dominican Republic. Look how sticky the leaves are” Mom explained sticking one to my ear. “You can make jewelry from it!” We laughed together. Mimulus aurantiacus--the light orange flowers never looked much like a monkey to me...but maybe it’s a matter of perspective. Growing up, I argued relentlessly with my mom, a Chinese-Dominican immigrant who never received a college education. It felt like we would never be able to understand each other. Despite those differences, however, her deep knowledge of plants always somehow brought us together in the garden. I never intended to major in plant biology and certainly never imagined it rooting in my heart. Yet, my diverse college coursework opened my mind to the importance of what I once believed was mere decor. Plants are smart. I discovered in ecology they send signals to their community and relay the presence of predators. I learned in physiology they are creative, emitting different chemical signals depending on the predator. They offer untapped potential for pharmaceuticals and exciting solutions to global issues. I experienced this truth first hand in my Biology of Algae class. Inducing stress responses to find astaxanthin producing algae, I saw a glimpse of what one seemingly irrelevant algae could create. Just look at astaxanthin: a food coloring, an antioxidant, a fight against Alzheimer's disease and even male infertility! From the air we breathe to the food we eat, we need plants. Perhaps most importantly, plants connect us. I can vividly recall my embarrassment as a child when my mom made me “stand lookout” as she stole seeds from neighbors’ flowers. Yet, I also remember clearly how we somehow always reconnected, always found each other, around our plants. Today I realize my mom taught me one of the most important lessons about plant life: they are a bridge. I intend to use plants to bridge science and technology to combat global issues. Every year on my mom’s birthday, I send her favorite flowers, orchids. In ten years, I hope to send her one that blooms in a spectrum of different colors each time, illustrating how my passion for what she taught me as a child has blossomed. My orchid will emphasize that plants have no bounds; as she made an earring from a leaf, so can plants unlock solutions for our past, present, and future. They can reconnect us with each other, despite our differences, and help us all discover a world of potential. I believe in the power of plants to feed us body, mind and soul. A vector for ingenuity, a symbol of love, a source of life, plants keep us connected.

“What are you?” With light brown hair, Asian features, and a skin tone that can’t quite be placed, I’ve confronted this question my entire life. Growing up with a nebulous understanding of my multiracial identity, I was never aware of the question’s full implications. I would simply answer that I am half white and half Chinese. However, as I grew older, I became more attuned to connotations of the real question being asked: “Are you Chinese or are you white?” A clandestine way for society to categorize people in binary terms, it often felt difficult to feel like I belonged to any one thing. Likewise, I realized that your identity is often pressured by how others perceive you—despite specifying, I find myself under the umbrella term, Asian a lot. Even today, I hold on to an outcaste feeling from my fellow Asians for my light hair and from my American counterparts for my Asian features. Extending beyond ethnicity, I found this question manifested in my cultural habits and personality as well. White identifying means behaving a certain way, Chinese another. In response, I developed a tactful skill of altering my personality and habits to blend into my cultural surroundings. Like a chameleon, I adapted to keep my nature hidden. I wrestle frequently with the question of choice and racial identity. Do we have any rights to our racial identity? I’ve found it’s not so simple as yellow or white. From my experiences, it would seem there’s what we are, what we say we are, and what we are allowed to be. I can say I am mixed race, but my limited box options to check tell me otherwise. Living in the boundary between two cultures can be a lonely place: you’re neither here nor there. But the border is also where you can be everywhere at once. Today I am proud to say I am mixed race. Each unique multiracial challenge I’ve faced has defined who I am today, and has made my identity more idiosyncratic, more cherished. A blend of multiple cultures, I mesh with diverse groups of people and can appreciate varying backgrounds. My experiences allow me to be empathetic and aware of the intricacies of multiracial racism; there are unique mixed-race criticisms and, at the same time, the coinciding judgment for the race people view and want to perceive you as. Knowing this, my mixed-race experience informs me of the unjust obstacles a multiracial individual of a less privileged background than mine may have, compelling me to provoke awareness by embracing my mixed heritage. One way I do so is by learning multiple languages. So far, I have I studied French, Korean, and Spanish—and I intend to adopt more. As a daughter to an immigrant, Chinese-Dominican mom, I support the importance of communicating with and understanding people of different origins. Above all, embracing my mixed heritage taught me that if you can’t identify with the boxes you are given, make your own. During my undergraduate career at the University of California, Berkeley, promoting the power of plants became a part of my identity. Through labs and coursework, I found a culture I identified with. As I progressed in my plant biology studies though, I noticed that given my chosen academic path, the question people kept asking me, “What do you want to do?” really meant, “You’re getting a PhD right?” The perceived and expected career path for a Berkeley science major is to continue onto research. However, privy to the scientific world’s convention of categorizing, if I had not experienced this same identity-pressuring question my entire life, I might have ignored my burgeoning attraction to the business world. In a moment where I could have severed my interests and followed a path designated for me by others, instead, I created my own space where my intellectual identities—business and plant science—could coexist as one. Free of the pressures of prioritizing one side of my identify over the other, I opt to combine my favorite aspects of each. In a world where there is a growing pressure to pick a side, I choose to be a bridge. From who I am, to how I look, to how I think, my body and my mind are parallel; just as I unite Chinese and American culture, I want to unite business and biotechnology.

An avid follower of the life science, startup accelerator, indieBio, I often find myself visualizing that I am on stage presenting among the CEOs and their companies on Demo Day. Watching each presentation from my laptop on repeat, I listen in awe as they narrate their company's steps to success—concept, funding, trials, and finally marketable product—and I brainstorm: How can I turn my ideas into reality? How would I communicate to investors? How do I assemble and lead cross-functional teams? I am inspired by plants like auxin inspires root growth; understanding their importance in products and solutions to global issues is fundamental to my intellectual identity. Excelling in undergraduate plant biology coursework at the University of California, Berkeley, I pursued research in an array of plant labs curating an eclectic research toolkit and establishing my devotion to promoting plant power. However, despite building a strong research background, to best advance and commercialize plant biotechnology, I must understand biotech from a business perspective too. In order to expand plant biotech, I am pursuing a specialized science MBA to develop the technical and soft skills I need to become a management head at a biotech company and serve as the bridge between science and business that transforms plant research into universal technology. Using what I learn in the program, I hope to use plant biotechnology as a platform to solve global issues while tackling the inequalities women face both in STEM and business. The Amplify Continuous Learning Scholarship will directly go toward paying my tuition, a critical component to learning the management, business, and lab skills I need to be able to innovate solutions to global challenges and disparities for women in STEM and business sectors.

I'm a minority person. As a student who works hard, and relentlessly applies to scholarships to fund her own education, I'm aggrieved being denied as a minority applicant because I am Asian. I understand a scholarship for a specific heritage. There are scholarships specifically for Asian students only. But when a scholarship is specifically for ALL minorities, why is one of the biggest minorities excluded? I wrote a controversial poem to a scholarship committee. Like my image, my message is rough and controversially bold. However, even if you disagree, I hope you hear these unvoiced words.

If the Covid-19 global pandemic taught us anything, it is the importance of community and small, local business. Coincidingly, the pandemic highlighted the immense food discrepancy in our country and prevalence of food insecurity in a vast majority of communities—often even in our own neighborhoods. As an undergraduate at the University of California, Berkeley studying plant biology in the College of Natural Resources, I studied current trends in agriculture and food production. My soul hurt learning about the waste and pollution involved with moving just even one apple into a grocery store. I became determined to create solutions to agricultural deficiencies, our world’s growing food shortage, and to fight the contradiction of our outrageous food waste. An innovator at heart with an entrepreneur spirit, I am fueled by the desire to see implemented sustainable change and have devoted my career to turning plant biotechnology into realized solutions. Not only a minority woman in stem but a woman in business, one of the ideals I fight for is creating opportunity in unexpected spaces. My time in plant research, allowed me to understand the societal, economical, and scientific causes of the food supply life cycle while Covid-19 emphasized the urgency of finding a way to break the cycle. Both inspired me to develop my own app that allows individuals to sell their own home-grown produce to neighbors. My app is multi-fold in value and mission. Sparked by what I learned in undergrad and what I saw throughout the pandemic, when walking my dog in my own neighborhood and seeing stray lemons, oranges, pomegranates, sitting sadly on every other curb, I couldn’t help but think, “If each owner collected and donated their extra fruit to a food bank right now, how many struggling families would be helped?” My app would make extra lemons available to be juiced into lemonade—at someone else’s house. Creating a space where surplus produce can be sold, it would decrease the amount of lonely fruit sitting on the sidewalk while creating a marketplace to easily earn some extra income. As a consumer, it allows you to buy from a truly non-GMO, fresh, organic produce source, without the woes of supporting monopoly farms or farms with poor growing or labor practices. But that is just the tip of the iceberg lettuce that the app brings. Connecting neighbors and locals, my app builds community. In a time of need, like the pandemic, the app creates an opportunity for community members to support each other. It fosters the spirit of shopping small and buying locally. It gives individuals an option to say no to farmers who pay low wages or uses harmful pesticides and instead allows you to buy from a family who grew your apple with love and care. An extra bonus, the app would even give the option and promote donating spare produce to a local shelter or food bank. Small scale, my produce distributing app creates a platform of neighborhoods to become their own farmer’s market: it expands food accessibility to those without and allows sellers to create passive income while feeding their community. On a larger scale, creating such an app is a way for citizens to stop hunger without depending on the government. It allows community members to become self-sufficient (with a little help from my platform). Buying locally, consumers have their voice heard through their dollars—they can say no to chain grocery stores, overpriced farmer’s markets, and poor practicing farmers. At the same time, walking two blocks over to pick up a basket of oranges saves a lot of transportation pollution that would normally come from a truck hauling oranges from Florida, and that doesn’t even touch on the amount of water you would be saving. My app is a way to connect people behind a shared mission of changing our current agribusiness practices and hopefully will be a step toward implementing change in a way that both supports our individual health, our community health, and our world’s health.

I promised I'd fill his life with new experiences Together, we hike that extra mile Innocent until proven guilty, even his derp face makes me smile A mountain dog he loves to be on top Check out his insta, he's trending under #dogsonlogs Always dapper & dressed with a bow Look how he shines in that stunning beach glow Indie surprises me in the most unexpected ways From poking his head* out to sleeping half on his bed Even making a naked guinea pig as a new friend Indiana Jones forever holds the throne. *see insta for surprise, must swipe