I first learned about the app, Remora, when browsing GenSea, a social network for ocean advocates. I’m not someone who downloads a lot of apps on my phone, but when I saw that the Remora app was designed to help me reduce my single-use plastic usage, I immediately clicked the download button, excited that there was an app to help me live more sustainably. As an ocean conservationist, I want to help reduce plastic pollution in the ocean. As I recorded my plastic usage on the app, I realized how much single-use plastic I use without thinking. For example, I drank from a reusable water bottle but rarely considered other single-use plastics, like condiment cups, dishwasher pods, and food wrappers. The app also let me record when I chose a reusable item over single-use plastic as a “refusal” of using single-use plastics, so I started paying more attention to using reusable containers for food. I liked using Remora so much that I decided to reach out and interview one of the creators of the app for my podcast, The Young Person’s Guide to Saving the Environment. I learned Remora considers both individual and collective action to tackle plastic pollution. Remora applies data on what kinds of plastic people are using and where to help them see where environmental education and legislation can be improved. For example, in St. Petersburg, Florida, where there is a plastic straw ban, the app works with the Office of Sustainability to see if there are still restaurants using plastic straws, helping with enforcement. I also love that the app benefited from the diverse voices of youth. From the interview, I learned that Remora recruited students from different fields, from programming to photography, to create this app. I believe one of the best ways to uplift young people in ocean advocacy is to encourage youth to use their interests to help the ocean. I find it inspiring how multiple young people with different skills found a way to put their strengths together to invent something to contribute to fixing plastic pollution. Remora has helped me build good habits when it comes to developing a more sustainable lifestyle, as I’ve set goals to refuse more plastic than I use. I know that as I continue my education in college, I will seek out technology that helps me live in a way that helps improve our world.

I badly wanted to be a Gryffindor. It wasn’t only Harry Potter that influenced this aspiration. I longed to embody the traits of gutsy characters like Anne from Anne of Green Gables and Mulan who stood up for what they believed in. I took dozens of “What Hogwarts House Are You?” quizzes in hopes of seeing a red and gold crest with a lion and the words “You’re in Gryffindor!” appear. If I answered honestly to the quiz questions, I always got Hufflepuff, in which case, I immediately retook the quiz. I learned the art of selecting answers that would get me into Gryffindor. In response to “In your friend group, you are…”, I would select “The brave, outgoing friend who doesn’t mind getting into trouble”, even though I was the quiet one who most definitely minded getting into trouble. I knew these quizzes weren’t giving me honest results because I was giving dishonest answers. If I were to truly be a Gryffindor, I had to behave like a Gryffindor. One morning at the beach, I was shocked to witness a group of people harassing a sea turtle. Seeing them chase the sea turtle made me fume, but my heart rattled at the thought of confronting the harassers. I looked around, hoping that an adult would tell them to stop. When I saw that no other beachgoer paid heed to what was happening, the realization that I was the only one who could stop what was going on paralyzed me. What would a Gryffindor do? I gulped. I knew if I sat on the sand and said nothing, the image of the sea turtle thrashing in the water, unable to escape, would haunt me. I stood up on my shaking legs. “Hey!” My voice sounded like a squeaking mouse to my ears, but the people looked up. I took a deep breath. “It’s not okay to touch the turtle! You need to step away!” They stared at me for a moment, looked at each other, then stepped away from the turtle. As I watched the turtle disappear in the waves, away from the hands of humans, my shoulders relaxed. I did it! I felt closer to my goal of becoming a Gryffindor. I felt like a hero. Yet I gradually discovered that my heroes weren’t just Gryffindors. They were Hufflepuffs too. In a school in Japan where my forgotten first language barely allowed me to communicate, a warm-eyed girl named Natsumi invited me to play basketball with her when I stood off to the side, trying to piece together how to say, “Can I play basketball with you?” As I immersed myself in how to craft a character when I was learning how to write novels, I found that I liked writing about the quiet strength of characters who chose empathy or mercy, not just their bravery. While my efforts to become brave motivated me to do things I never would have dared to do before like perform my poetry in front of hundreds of pairs of staring eyes, I realized that I shouldn’t disregard the Hufflepuff traits I had. The world doesn’t just need lionhearts; it also needs helping hands to lift up lionhearts. I decided to take a Hogwarts house quiz again. What house was I truly in? You are 32% Hufflepuff, 25% Gryffindor, 23% Ravenclaw, and 20% Slytherin! I felt no need to retake the quiz.