I grew up in motion.
Where my only consistency was chaos, I learned early how to steady myself on a moving carousel. When I look back, I see flashes of faces and places stitched together. My mother rushing out to another shift, asking me to start dinner. A teacher offering me a ride rather than leaving me outside a locked school again. A family friend setting up a room for “a few nights” that turned into weeks. The master of a dyeing martial art in Ecuador instructs me to keep my chin as my father jots down notes for his research. And the waves from the ocean soothing me as they dance to the rhythm that shaped my life.
The beach and I share a sense of duality, where two opposite worlds collide to create something unique yet beautiful. Like the tide, my dad comes and goes out of my life. Despite this, he has instilled in me a love of people, travel, and knowledge from our journeys to distant lands, where we live like locals while he conducts research in places from Colombia to Chengdu, China.
My relationship with my mom is predictable and sturdy like the sand under my feet. Like sand that can burn at times, the authoritarian relationship was shaped by her own traumas and responsibilities she could not manage. But, at the end of the day, she has taught me the traits of a survivor: diligence, perseverance, dependability, selflessness, and appreciation.
The same movement that expanded my worldview also meant instability. I grew up watching adults fight quiet battles with money and generational trauma. While other kids were shielded from those things, I was not. I learned early that safety wasn’t guaranteed, and that being “good” was a kind of currency. I trained myself to read a room before I was tall enough to see over the kitchen counter. Tracking the rise in someone’s voice and, often, in their footsteps, I tried to be helpful, quiet, and invisible when needed, because I feared the repercussions of any misstep.
When I was younger, I thought constant movement meant I didn’t belong anywhere. My inability for my immediate family to be a steady landing ground financially, or for my emotions, with the combination of a family of immigrants, exposed me to so many cultures and religions, and I felt like I never had a home. But slowly I realised I wasn’t rootless. I was welcomed everywhere. I was warmly greeted by my fifth-grade teachers in Buddhist temples with a sweet treat every Tuesday, was welcomed into Eid celebrations, taught all the family recipes of people who were not my blood, and was welcomed into kitchens full of scents and stories that weren’t mine but made room for me. Everywhere I went, someone offered me a plate of food, a bed, a story, a sliver of their world. They gave me anything they could, and I appreciated it more than gold.
My childhood wasn’t defined by instability alone, but by an abundance of opportunities to connect and learn. And that became the foundation of everything I am.
Interestingly, when I was young, school became the one stable place I could rely on amongst the chaos. It was the central place where I was rarely in survival mode and could just be a kid, so I clung to learning out of desire. Knowledge felt like a passport to understanding the world I was constantly being thrown into. I was the student who stayed after class talking to teachers, who joined every club I could, and maximised my time spent with friends of all ages on the playground.
As I hit middle school, my obsession with school stopped being an escape and became an intrinsic desire to expand access to knowledge and build the kind of world I imagined. That drive pushed me to make the most of every opportunity, so I started nonprofits teaching kids about cybersecurity and coding, led clubs for the newspaper and sustainability, and took on internships before I even understood how rare those chances were. I didn’t have the same safety nets or stability as many of my classmates, so I worked odd jobs throughout middle and high school to make my education possible. But that only deepened my determination.
That “something larger” eventually led me to biomedical engineering. I wanted to use science and design as tools to solve real problems for real people. Nothing crystallised that purpose more than field-testing my own device, the Cesarean Delivery Glove, in a rural Kenyan hospital. Standing in a labour ward and listening to surgeons describe the fear and urgency of deeply impacted fetal heads changed me. That project taught me that engineering must account for environmental constraints, cultural context, affordability, and usability. It showed me how design choices ripple into lives, and how innovation becomes meaningful only when it centres the people it claims to serve. At this point, my education wasn’t just for me; it was something I could leverage to uplift others.
Because of my humble beginnings, I never romanticised the “flashy solution”; instead, I appreciated sturdy, practical ones. That has shaped the engineer I am today. For me, engineering is about building whole-brain solutions that do not unintentionally harm the communities it intends to help. In a world overflowing with shiny solutions to non-existent problems, I aim to focus on designing substance that takes into account people and the planet’s real needs.
That commitment has led me to pursue a master’s in Engineering, Sustainability, and Health at USD. This program represents the convergence of everything that shaped me.
Today, I am still in motion, but now the motion feels purposeful. Not instability, but momentum.