Most people think nonprofit work starts with wanting to “give back.” For me, it started with frustration. I got tired of watching communities deal with problems everyone could clearly see while almost nobody actually built solutions around them. Food insecurity. Lack of access to resources. Students feeling disconnected from opportunities in STEM and technology. People talked about these issues constantly, but growing up, I noticed how rare it was for resources and innovation to actually reach the communities dealing with them directly. That frustration is what pushed me to start Rooted Together, a student-led initiative focused on hydroponic farming systems and urban agriculture. Instead of approaching food insecurity only through temporary food drives, we focused on building systems schools and communities could operate themselves. We designed hydroponic systems that allowed food to be grown in compact indoor spaces, especially in urban areas where access to fresh food was limited. What surprised me most was how quickly the project became about more than food. Students who had never cared about engineering became interested once they saw something tangible in front of them. Schools started viewing unused spaces differently. Community members became curious about sustainability, technology, and agriculture in ways I never expected. The systems mattered, but the shift in mindset mattered even more. That experience changed how I view nonprofit work. I do not see nonprofits as organizations that simply provide charity. I see them as systems capable of creating access, opportunity, and infrastructure where those things have historically been missing. The best nonprofit work does not only help people temporarily. It changes what people believe is possible inside their own communities. Running Rooted Together also taught me that nonprofit leadership is difficult in ways people do not always see. There were constant setbacks. Systems failed. Funding was limited. Organizing volunteers and keeping projects moving sometimes felt harder than building the hydroponic systems themselves. I learned quickly that impact is rarely clean or organized. It takes consistency, adaptability, and the willingness to keep showing up even when progress feels slow. Outside of Rooted Together, I have also mentored students interested in STEM, entrepreneurship, and technology because I understand how important representation and access are. Growing up as a Tamil immigrant student, I often felt like opportunities in engineering, research, and startups belonged to people with more connections, resources, or financial stability than I had. Mentorship changed that perspective for me. It showed me how much one person’s guidance can shift someone else’s confidence and direction. My interest in nonprofit work also connects closely to my long-term goals in biomedical engineering and healthcare innovation. During my experience around research at the University of Pittsburgh Department of Neurological Surgery, I became interested in how engineering and technology could improve healthcare accessibility for underserved populations. Whether the issue is food insecurity, education, or healthcare, I am drawn toward work that creates practical solutions for communities that are usually overlooked. I do not plan on separating my career from service work in the future. I want the two to overlap completely. Whether through nonprofit leadership, healthcare innovation, or community-focused technology, I want to keep building systems that create access and opportunity for people who are too often excluded from both.

I was born in India and moved to the United States in 2012 with my family when I was young. I am Tamil, and even after living in the U.S. for most of my life, my culture has remained a major part of who I am. I grew up speaking Tamil at home, attending Tamil school, and staying connected to my heritage through language, stories, and community events. My parents sacrificed a lot to build a stable life here, and growing up watching that shaped the way I approach education and opportunity. Being Indian has influenced how I see both education and responsibility. In my family, education was never treated as optional. It was viewed as something that could completely change the trajectory of your life. At the same time, I also grew up balancing two identities. At school I was adapting to American culture, while at home I stayed deeply connected to Indian traditions and values. That balance taught me resilience early. It also gave me a strong sense of responsibility toward making the opportunities my parents worked for actually mean something. I am currently studying engineering at Montgomery College with plans to pursue biomedical engineering. My long-term goal is to build technology and systems that improve healthcare accessibility. I have worked on projects involving hydroponic farming systems through Rooted Together, a student-led initiative I founded to address food insecurity, and I have also been involved in neuroscience research through the University of Pittsburgh Department of Neurological Surgery. Financially, my educational path changed significantly over the last year. I had initially committed to Ohio State University for biomedical engineering, and my family was prepared for that path. However, due to federal job cuts, my mother lost her job, which placed major financial strain on our family. Because of that situation, I had to make the difficult decision to uncommit and instead attend community college in order to reduce costs and continue my education in a financially realistic way. Although community college was not originally part of my plan, the experience has strengthened me academically and personally. I have continued pursuing engineering, maintained a strong GPA, and stayed involved in leadership, research, and service projects despite the financial uncertainty my family faced. My parents have always prioritized education, but paying for college remains a major challenge for us, especially while managing living expenses and future transfer costs. This scholarship would help reduce that burden and allow me to continue pursuing my education without placing additional financial pressure on my family. More importantly, it would support my goal of continuing into biomedical engineering and eventually building technology that creates meaningful impact for underserved communities.

Nobody really announces when a community starts getting ignored. You notice it slowly. You notice it when the nearest grocery store somehow turns into a thirty minute bus ride. You notice it when empty lots stay empty for years while families nearby struggle to afford fresh food. You notice it when students grow up thinking innovation only happens somewhere else, usually in wealthier neighborhoods with better funding and better opportunities. I noticed those things growing up, and after a while I stopped wanting to only talk about them. I wanted to build something that could exist directly inside the communities dealing with those problems. That is why I started Rooted Together, a student-led initiative focused on hydroponic farming systems and urban agriculture. We build systems that allow schools and communities to grow food in small indoor spaces using hydroponics. At first, I honestly had no idea how difficult that would become. I thought the hardest part would be understanding the engineering side. Turns out the harder part was explaining to people why there was suddenly lettuce growing under LED lights inside a classroom. Rooted Together became more than a project pretty quickly. I worked with students, schools, volunteers, and community organizations to create systems people could actually use. We focused on building something sustainable instead of relying only on temporary solutions like food drives. Watching students who had never cared about engineering suddenly become interested because they saw food growing in front of them was one of the coolest parts of the experience. It made engineering feel accessible instead of distant. The process itself taught me a lot about service. Community work is rarely organized or smooth. Systems failed constantly. Pipes leaked. Plants died for reasons nobody could explain. Sometimes we spent hours trying to fix problems that ended up having embarrassingly simple solutions. I learned quickly that helping your community is not about trying to look impressive. Most of the time it is frustrating, messy, and slow. You keep showing up anyway. Outside of Rooted Together, I also mentor students interested in STEM and entrepreneurship because I know how much access and representation matter. A lot of students grow up believing engineering, technology, and research belong to somebody else. I used to think that too. Seeing people who looked like me building companies, conducting research, and creating technology changed how I viewed my own future. I want younger students to feel that same shift earlier than I did. My perspective on giving back also expanded during my time around research at the University of Pittsburgh Department of Neurological Surgery. I was exposed to work involving functional genomics and cancer metabolism, and it made me realize community impact exists at every scale. Sometimes giving back looks like mentoring students or building urban farming systems. Other times it looks like contributing to research that could eventually improve healthcare for thousands of people you will never meet. Giving back matters to me because communities shaped me long before I ever started trying to help one. Teachers, mentors, friends, and local organizations gave me opportunities, guidance, and support at points where they did not have to. I do not think success means much if you disappear the second things start working out for you personally. The communities I grew up around still deserve investment, innovation, and people willing to care about them consistently. I want to spend my life building things that end up there instead of far away from the people who need them most.

Nobody in my neighborhood was waiting on an engineer to show up. People were busy trying to survive the week. Food insecurity where I grew up was never treated like some giant societal issue people sat around discussing. It was normal. Corner stores charging eight dollars for strawberries that looked like they lost the will to live three days ago. Families making whatever food was in the kitchen somehow stretch another night. After seeing that long enough, I got tired of hearing people talk about problems like they were weather conditions nobody could change. I wanted to build something instead. That is what led me to start Rooted Together, a student-led initiative built around hydroponic farming systems and urban agriculture. Growing food indoors, inside schools, using water systems and artificial lighting sounded less like a nonprofit and more like something a sleep-deprived engineering student dreamed up at 1:47 AM. I had already started ordering equipment before anyone could talk me out of it. Building those systems taught me more about engineering than any class I have taken. Every setup became its own problem. Water flow. Nutrient delivery. Lighting. Energy efficiency. Space constraints. Leakage. System failures that somehow only happened five minutes before presentations. Sometimes fixing one issue created two new ones we did not know were possible. Real engineering looked more like standing in front of a leaking pipe wondering why I thought this was a good idea in the first place. Watching people interact with what we built made all of it worth it. Students with zero interest in engineering would start asking questions after seeing lettuce growing out of a system in the middle of a classroom. Schools turned unused spaces into functioning growing systems. People in the community started realizing engineering did not have to exist somewhere far away. It could show up in their own schools and neighborhoods. Building inside communities that reflected my own made the work feel personal every single time. Running Rooted Together also forced me to learn fast. Engineering is not only technical work. Half the battle is convincing people your idea is not completely ridiculous long enough for them to see it function. I organized students, worked with schools, managed resources, and kept projects moving when things stalled. Some days everything worked. Other days felt like a live demonstration of Murphy's Law. I think I learned more from those days. The summer I spent around research at the University of Pittsburgh Department of Neurological Surgery shifted things further. I was exposed to functional genomics and cancer metabolism, and what surprised me most was how familiar the process felt. Identify the problem. Build something. Test it. Fail. Adjust. Repeat. Seeing that same mindset applied to healthcare made biomedical engineering feel less like a career choice and more like the direction I had already been moving toward. At Montgomery College I am studying engineering and physics while preparing to transfer into biomedical engineering. My experience has not come through a formal co-op program, but almost everything I have done has been hands-on. Hydroponic systems. Research labs. Technology projects. I learn best by building things slightly above my skill level and figuring them out in real time. The communities I grew up around are still dealing with the same problems. I do not want to spend my life talking about them from a distance. I want to keep building things that end up where they are actually needed.

From the moment I folded my first origami crane in middle school, I discovered that seemingly small, creative acts could have a powerful impact. What began as a personal hobby soon became a way to bring people together, channel emotions into something beautiful, and build patience and focus, skills that now define the way I engage with my community. Extracurricular activities have enriched my life and given me the tools to uplift others. They have shaped how I lead, how I solve problems, and how I see the world. As a high school student in Maryland, I’ve devoted myself to a wide range of activities, from leadership and innovation to culture and service. These experiences have been my classrooms, where I’ve learned empathy, resilience, and initiative. One of my most meaningful involvements has been Rooted Together, a student-led nonprofit I founded to address food insecurity in my community. What began as a local food drive evolved into a multi-state movement. We now build hydroponic farming systems in schools, organize sustainability workshops, and engage hundreds of students in community-centered agriculture. Leading this initiative taught me how to turn an idea into action and how collaboration can spark real, lasting change. Another passion project I created is Vertex Career Development, a platform built to support international students like myself in navigating the U.S. education and career landscape. As someone on an H4 visa, I’ve faced many limitations despite growing up in this country—no FAFSA, no work permit, and restricted access to scholarships. Rather than letting this discourage me, I turned it into a mission. Vertex now hosts webinars, publishes resources, and builds mentorship networks for students who, like me, have so much potential but often lack guidance. This initiative gave me purpose. It showed me how community begins with shared experience and that even the challenges we face can become paths to help others. Outside of leadership, I stay deeply connected to my roots. I’ve been attending Tamil school since 2014, learning my native language and exploring my cultural heritage through dance, literature, and storytelling. My love for astronomy has also grown into astrophotography, where I capture the night sky and share the science and stories behind the stars. I even designed an app in Xcode that combines weather forecasting with astronomy to help others find the best nights to stargaze. Through all of this, my passion for service remains the thread tying it all together. Whether I’m volunteering at food banks, mentoring younger students, helping new immigrants feel at home, or creating tools to solve everyday problems, I’m driven by the belief that success means little unless it lifts others with you. My extracurricular activities are not just things I do. They are who I am. They’ve helped me find my voice and use it to make change. I believe Sammy Meckley’s legacy of spreading joy, creating community, and making people feel seen is precisely the legacy I strive to live out daily. This scholarship would support my education and fuel the heart of what I do: helping others through creativity, leadership, and compassion.