I plan to leverage technology to improve the world by making knowledge more accessible to students. For example, I communicated my concerns about the way that information about students was being stored through Proctorio, a student proctoring service that enables professors to watch their students take exams, but also records videos of the students and stores them in a database that is easy for anyone with the login information of the professor to access. The Proctorio format is unfortunate because it grants access to everything from videos of the students room to images of their drivers license. While this wouldn't be a problem normally, the information is easy to access provided that you can find a way into the professors' account, many of which are not given access to information on how to properly and safely store information. Thus, when uninformed people are given access to information they're not ready for, it leads to vulnerabilities in students' privacy. To advocate against this, I studied the where the information was going, who had access to said information, and how much education they had for professors using this technology, then emailed and called the school asking for more information about the amount of security the information is stored with and the amount of education the professors are given, and then asked for them to be given more education, security, or at least transparency with the students. While I understand that the students have be held accountable for their testing and academic honesty, it's also equally important that students understand their rights and that their information is protected. From the beginning my goal has always been to advocate on behalf of students and encourage them to discover their own power, both as consumers and as people with the tools that technology provides. However, I also want people to understand that they deserve rights. Therefore, I want to use my platform within technology and social media to advocate for those around me who don't know as much about tech as I do, as well as encouraging those around me to seek information about the technology they're using and the way in which it will impact their lives. I'm excited to be able to help people in this way, because I can help so many people to better understand both the good and harm that technology can do, as well as relieving some of the mystery behind it.

As the daughter of a mother who worked in computer science from the early 80's, I was constantly exposed to the new technology. I remember how excited she was when the first iPhone came out. She brought one home, so excited to get to try what she knew would be a revolutionary piece of technology. As time went on, and she found more technology, she grew more and more excited. Unfortunately, as the digital revolution continued, I saw mom go from excited to worried. Insider videos of Facebook workers with their cameras taped over, non-disclosure agreements at google and Facebook, talk of information that the government had access too. All of these things led to concern for the general public. While all of these concerns were warranted, there was one concern that we could not be prepared for: facial recognition technology. In the tech world, facial recognition technology is a hotly debated subject. IBM is now refusing to develop facial recognition technology, citing a fear of racial profiling and mass surveillance, while Amazon and Microsoft are both refusing to sell information to law enforcement as well. With the BLM movement of the valley, many social media users begged fellow protesters to turn off location services on their phones, turn off the bio-metric methods of unlocking their phones, and most importantly, paint their faces to avoid being recognized by facial recognition software. They warned that if others failed to cover their faces, police would track them down and watch for the chance to arrest them. However, when I moved to Hayward, I found out that many of my friends that had lived outside of the valley during the protests were unaware of the dangers of facial recognition. This forced me to rethink what I considered common knowledge. Even before finding out that my friends were unaware of the fight in technology, I advocated for users rights. At the community college I attended at the beginning of COVID-19, my professors were all expected to include a pre-written clause about Proctorio, a recorded proctoring website, and their right to use it. Because every instructor was forced to include it, the school held our education hostage in the interest of using this software freely. When I asked how the information was being transmitted, stored, and handled, the university didn't have an answer. Just told me that it was up to the professors to keep information safe. Meanwhile, I could only find one informational presentation about zoom, and it was an MS Paint slideshow including where teachers could find the recorded information. Naturally, I didn't trust professors that didn't understand zoom to understand a much more detailed and risky technology like Proctorio, so I asked the school to show me what security measures they were using to protect student information and professors alike, or to take the software down. While I didn't receive a response, the school also didn't use Proctorio again, either. While my fight for student protection may not have been very loud, or even something the other students understood, it was very close to my heart, and it followed what I hoped to do with my future: protect those that don't have the knowledge to protect themselves, and most importantly, encourage the informed consent of those around me.

When I was a little girl, I used to tell people that I was bad at math. My mom told me that she was bad at math, and the girls around me told me that as well. I internalized it, and I failed many of my exams in math. My nerves always got the best of me, and I struggled to do algebra and other higher level mathematics. However, I started studying algebra more and more. I knew that I needed to be good at it, to pass the class and so that I "could move on with my life". In my second year of college, everything changed. I had a professor that believed in me, and told me that he knew I could do it. I was taking geometry, and excelled in the classwork and homework, but continued to let my nerves get the best of me, so I failed the class. Even my boyfriend told me that I was bad at math, and that I couldn't do it. Finally, when I was in college algebra, I tried an experiment: I told myself that I was good at math, and told everyone who ever told me that I was bad at math the same thing. I ditched the boyfriend and loved myself instead. I passed college algebra and pre-calculus with flying colors. The truth was that I was never bad at math - maybe that's what everyone else wanted me to believe, and sometimes, I struggled or lost confidence and caused myself to fail. That being said, I was never truly bad at math - my logic was sound, and provided I meshed well with the professor and wasn't discouraged, I excelled. All this to say, my relationship with math is reflective of my relationship with myself: the more I believe in my worth and capabilities, the more I can do. Now, when I sit in Calculus with my three other female classmates, we're all confident. We're all there because we want to be, and we want this class for our major. However, if I hear one of my classmates tell me she's bad at math, I always tell her not to say that, and that she needs to believe in herself. That if she's here, she's not bad at math, and that she deserves to hold on to that power. The draw in math for me is both the thrill of solving a puzzle and the thrill of proving everyone that ever doubted me wrong. Math is my moment of being knocked down and getting back up again. Math is my love for puzzles and my spite for anyone who doubted me. The logic of math also helped me in that I see multiple different approaches for the projects I work on in programming. Math was the start of my revolution against what people always told me a woman should be, and an introduction into what I want to be.