Brought up in a Korean-American household as a true third-culture kid, I’ve moved eight times, visited 32 countries, and lived in four US states and four countries on three continents. My upbringing was unpredictable, wonderful, diverse, and chaotic. The only real constant in my life was change–oh, and The Office. As the youngest and only girl of the family, I was naturally always trying to keep up with my two older brothers. As teens, among their favorites activities was to sit on the couch and watch The Office, which my parents deemed far too mature for me to consume, which was probably a wise choice, despite being infuriating at the time. Perhaps this pent up yearning for the sight of one very special 2000s era industrial park is in part to blame for my subsequent obsession with the show, which lasted from middle school until now, my final year of college, with no signs of slowing. However, I also attribute it to the hilariously quirk and confusingly lovable cast of the show. I've lost count of how many times I've watched The Office through (all nine seasons); I stopped counting after round five. I can only watch the show with friends who are equally as obsessed, otherwise they get annoyed when I finish every iconically awkward Michael Scott line or witty Jim prank. Among my favorites, in no particular order: Asian Jim, Professor Copperfield's miracle legumes, the quest for the Holy Grail (a prank that tragically never lived up to its full imagined glory), christmas-wrapped desk, letters from future Dwight, the 500-foot red wire, and of course, James Trickington's garden party book. The Office has always been my go-to show. The Office was a familiar comfort when I moved across the world from Virginia to Berlin as an anxious soon-to-be high schooler. The Office provided much needed stress relief when I was up until 2am finishing lab reports and college applications as a burnt out Senior. The Office was there to distract me when I entered treatment for severe anorexia, and struggled to eat without panic attacks. The Office was a piece of home when I moved across the country from my family in Hawaii to college in Vermont, a state I'd never been to until move-in day. Wherever I was, whatever I was feeling, The Office was there. Now, as an adult, I still watch The Office: with my older, now married brother, who has come a long way from the acne-prone 14 year old he was when he first watched the show; in my apartment, with my two best friends from freshman year of college; in the library, for a quick laugh in the midst of a particularly difficult section of my senior thesis. I'm not sure where my life will take me after graduation–law school, a gap year, some time back home in Hawaii–but I feel confident that no matter what I end up doing, The Office will probably be playing in the background.

Asking an environmentalist about the biggest environmental issue we face is like asking a parent to name a favorite child–for better or for worse, they are all exceptionally important. But what concerns me most is the displacement and homelessness climate change will (continue to) cause. There are few more complex or pressing issues than climate change and affordable, humane housing. In 2021, nearly 100 citizens died during Hurricane Ida, many as a result of drowning when they became trapped in illegal, unsafe basement housing inundated by unprecedented flooding. The same year, a powerful earthquake in Haiti, where an estimated 40% of the population was already homeless, killed over 2,000, and left far more in dire straits. Last February, a similar event devastated Turkey and Syria, with an estimated death toll of over 50,000. Now, even a year later, hundreds of thousands of survivors are still without shelter. These events tragically highlight the precarious intersection of climate change and inadequate housing. Flooding and other natural disasters are only increasing in frequency and severity globally, while safe, affordable housing is becoming increasingly scarce. Climate change is fundamentally complex, politically charged and inherently expensive to address. We cannot approach climate change with a narrow lens; issues this complex and far reaching require careful forethought and worldwide coordination. I believe one of the keys to solving these issues is fostering community. As a species, humans are evolutionarily designed to thrive in supportive, close-knit communities. Children who have a strong sense of community and social support are more likely to go on to lead successful careers, live more satisfied lives, and recover better from adversities. We should be making sure communities have positive adult role models in schools, strong extra-curricular programs, and opportunities to foster strong connections with peers. It’s vital that people have access to affordable, safe housing, and food. We need to work to eliminate food deserts, and ensure that people have access to green spaces. This can be done in part by localizing food production, creating urban gardens, and starting green roofs. Responses to both housing and environmental issues will differ globally; a functional solution in Haiti might not be effective or even applicable in Syria. Further, even when scientists and humanitarians can find solutions to these complicated issues, a feat in itself, they must find ways to effectively implement them in today’s politically charged world. Viable solutions to far reaching global issues require engaged study of cultural perspectives, environmental conditions, and long-held traditions of diverse groups. Brought up in a Korean-American household, I’ve moved seven times, visited 32 countries, and lived in four states and four countries on three continents. As a true third culture kid and second generation immigrant, I understand that solutions need to be tailored to the people and places they seek to help, and this is no small task. However, my upbringing has also taught me the immense power of intercultural collaboration, diverse perspectives, and cooperation across socio-economic barriers. Independently, our goals for the future often seem insurmountable. But together, they are attainable. I hope to spend my life doing work that will benefit the earth and all those that live here, making our planet a brighter, safer, healthier place for all.

After graduating, I hope to obtain my JD and practice environmental law. I believe legislation is key in implementing effective, large-scale efforts to heal our planet, which is my true passion. With a lawyer mother, diplomat father, and two older brothers, verbal discourse is a given at every family gathering. From a young age, I learned that to get what I wanted, I had to be an effective communicator and incisive debater. I quickly became adept at articulating my opinions in a way that garnered support and understanding from those around me. In this sense, I've been preparing for law since elementary school. Brought up in a Korean-American household as a true third-culture kid, I’ve moved seven times, visited 32 countries, and lived in four states and four countries on three continents. Through my experiences internationally and as a second-generation immigrant, I've learned to value diverse perspectives and effectively collaborate across cultural and socio-economic barriers, skills which will be instrumental in drafting environmental policy. I will graduate this Spring with a Bachelor’s in Environmental Studies, with minors in Law and Zoology. My study of ecology and zoology give me an understanding of the complex systems that make up the environment, while my study of law and policy inform my knowledge of the governmental and legal frameworks that shape legislative solutions. I’ve come to recognize the importance of an interdisciplinary approach in addressing complex environmental issues. I was able to explore the efficacy of such approaches as part of a five year, interdisciplinary science grant from the National Science Foundation, for which I conducted research on Indigenous participation in environmental governance. Having seen firsthand the environmental injustices and exclusion Indigenous Hawaiians face while living on O’ahu, my research investigated what factors predict successful involvement of Indigenous peoples in natural resource management and what legal avenues can facilitate more just representation. I grew my understanding of the intersections between the legal and environmental fields, as well as how they can be implemented to create effective environmental governance regimes. Last Spring, I was accepted as an undergraduate intern for my university’s Student Legal Services, a team of students who work with two alumni attorneys to provide free legal counsel to students. I act as an intermediary between students and attorneys, and have grown immensely in my ability to build relationships with clients that enable more successful case outcomes, collecting case-building information while remaining empathetic to the stress and trauma that recounting these stories can bring. Beyond growing my knowledge of the law and its application in the real world, this work has also reaffirmed my desire to become a lawyer, resurfacing my passion for advocacy and just representation. I also work as a teaching assistant for a law and policy course, which deepens my understanding of the legal field while allowing me to practice teaching the law to those who aren’t intimately familiar with it. These experiences not only solidify my understanding of the legal system, but improve my ability to make the complex, often intimidating legal system more accessible, regardless of financial or other barriers. As an environmental lawyer, I aim to use legislation as a tool to effect lasting, meaningful change and hold people accountable for the environmental consequences of their actions. I don’t know exactly what my work in the legal field will look like, and I’m sure I will face countless obstacles in trying to accomplish it, but what I am sure of is my commitment to protecting the world’s ecosystems and communities, and I know my efforts will reflect that.