Fewer than eight percent of federal judges have scientific training, and only a small share of law school applicants come from STEM backgrounds. Accordingly, the greatest obstacle I see to making sustainability a priority in the legal profession is the lack of scientific training among lawyers and judges. As a profession, the law needs to overcome this challenge because legal arguments fill in the finer details of how society distributes and protects natural resources. Inadequate scientific understanding risks inadvertently exacerbating ecological harms and inequities. My goal is to ground my law practice in the best available science. I have known for my entire life that I would work in the environmental field. I grew up in the National Parks System’s Junior Ranger program, which gave me early exposure to science and community service. In high school, I started volunteering at the Conservation Society of California. As an educator there, I researched and designed programming to engage guests on environmental issues. My determination to learn and foster communication led my supervisors to give me additional responsibilities, including leading talks with ambassador animals and participating in international conferences. Throughout these experiences, I learned to modify my presentations to connect with diverse audiences. In college, my focus shifted to policy research. While studying at UC Davis, I contracted with a Tribal-run nonprofit, writing about how dams impacted culturally-significant fish resources. I also interned for an environmental policy lab, researching how environmental justice communities felt about new hydrogen energy and storage infrastructure. Through these roles, I better understood how excluding perspectives has long-lasting consequences; the law rarely protects the rights of communities not involved in the policy process. I also learned about natural resource distribution issues in California and gained an interest in information’s role as a barrier or catalyst to community involvement. As I pursued undergraduate coursework in environmental engineering, economics, and law, I became increasingly aware of the gap between science, law, and policy. This realization not only encouraged me to apply for my concurrent M.S. in energy and natural resources and J.D. specializing in environmental and energy technology law at UC Berkeley, but also to pursue opportunities that would provide me with interdisciplinary training in practice. I joined an interdepartmental Energy and Resources Coalition as its symposium director and brought together scientists, lawyers, and policymakers to discuss land-use issues. I also co-piloted a peer review board, a group of law students who apply our STEM backgrounds to provide feedback on the technical elements of law journal articles before publication. Over the summer, I worked as a legal intern at a public utilities commission and volunteered to take on additional technical tasks involving energy systems and statistical analysis. By prioritizing these multidisciplinary opportunities, I am building skills I can use to analyze complex environmental and energy systems and create legal arguments that reflect scientific reality. Many rapid changes have been occurring in the field of environmental law. One of the most significant shifts has been the Supreme Court’s decision to place greater responsibility on attorneys to argue the meaning of ambiguous technical terms in the statutes that Congress writes. I plan to enter the legal profession well prepared to take on this responsibility. I aim to use my interdisciplinary communication experience to translate complex scientific and legal information into clear strategies that support sustainable outcomes. Additionally, I intend to use my diverse background to reduce environmental impact by making legal processes more inclusive, supporting communities that may not have access to technical experts, and ensuring they are equipped with accessible knowledge and the necessary representation to advocate for themselves.

When I was little, my dad would load my family into the car with turkey avocado sandwiches and our thoroughly dented water bottles. We would drive to a state or national park, and start a new adventure, racing down to tide pools or searching for creatures in the forest. I have known for my entire life that I would find my purpose in the environmental field, and through my undergraduate education, I also found my passions for science communication and social justice. Now, through a concurrent J.D. and M.S. in energy and natural resources, I aim to apply my intersecting interests to address environmental inequities. From a young age, I dedicated myself to conservation and environmental justice. I grew up in the National Parks System’s Junior Ranger program, which gave me early exposure to science and community service. Then, in high school, I started volunteering at the Conservation Society of California (CSC). As an educator there, I researched and designed programming to engage guests on environmental issues. My determination to learn and foster communication led my supervisors to give me additional responsibilities, including leading presentations with ambassador animals and participating in international conferences. Throughout these experiences, I met people whose viewpoints were new to me or contradicted my beliefs. In these interactions, I practiced and honed my abilities to listen actively, think critically, and adapt quickly. The network-building and public engagement I led at the CSC sparked my resolve to explore environmental law and policy through first-hand experiences. Once I began studying at UC Davis, the experience from which I gained the most perspective was a contract with a Tribal-run non-profit. During my work, I learned Traditional Ecological Knowledge: the extensive cumulation of indigenous stewardship practices handed down through generations. By examining the impact of dams on Tribal water resources, I better understood how excluding perspectives has long-lasting consequences; law rarely protects the rights of communities not involved in the policy process. Through this experience, I learned about natural resource distribution issues in California, and I took away an interest in information’s role as a barrier or catalyst to community involvement. I wanted to understand the relationship between information and public participation, so I led a study in collaboration with the CSC during a school break. I was curious if the way that educators present information affected people’s attitudes toward conservation. Throughout the summer, I negotiated several factors of my research design, organized schedules with the Animal Care and Volunteer Services Managers, oversaw a team of volunteers, and presented my findings to the Education Department. I hypothesized that people would care more about an environmental issue if they connected it to everyday experiences. The finding that excited me most came when I gave a presentation about arthropods and household cats. After I explained the behaviors the animals shared, guests showed increased interest in learning about decomposers like bugs. This result makes me hopeful that providing access to relatable information would not just lower barriers to community involvement but also encourage public participation. When I began considering law school seriously, I focused on classes to develop my critical thinking. I took environmental engineering, economics, impact analysis, policy, and law classes, challenging myself to use my interdisciplinary knowledge to address modern environmental issues. Environmental Law especially pushed my research, comprehension, and writing skills. One of the papers I wrote for the class analyzed three related cases with several intervenor-defendants and crossclaim defendants. I read the court filings, found statements on the parties’ websites, contacted the court clerk for recordings of relevant hearings, and spent months writing and revising. Over the summer, UC Davis’ Prized Writing journal selected my legal analysis for publication. The months of work that went into this paper reflect my dedication to representing all stakeholders and presenting clear information. As such, I felt proud when the journal’s editor-in-chief told me she was impressed by how my article was approachable to a wide range of readers. Another influential class for me was Policy Process. I shared my professor's curiosity about the behavior and motivation of policymakers, so I was thrilled to join her research lab, where I wrote several briefs about hydrogen policy and its environmental justice implications. Specifically, I researched how community-based organizations felt about hydrogen projects and the related federal funding and consultation processes. My teammates and I constantly asked what factors might have made our expectations differ from real-world outcomes, discussed discrepancies between sources, and provided feedback on each other's work. I learned to think about complex problems by integrating my science and policy backgrounds and paying attention to the perspectives I used to inform my understanding of an issue. When I imagine environmental justice, I picture the parks I visited as a child. I want everyone to have the chance to race down to tide pools and search for creatures in the forest. Everyone deserves the option to visit beautiful places and share their experiences with future generations. People should not need to worry if rising sea levels will destroy their homes or if a massive storm will empty their bank accounts. In its best form, environmental justice exists when ecosystem resources and services are distributed equally and secured for future generations. Promising to conserve the water, land, life, and culture of the world for others to enjoy is how I pay forward the privilege I had to visit parks as a kid. I am confident I have the work ethic, open-mindedness, and determination to uphold that promise through a concurrent degree at UC Berkeley. Using my first-hand experiences promoting science communication, I will bring a unique perspective to Ecology Law Quarterly. I can also apply my skills in research and community outreach to the work at the Center for Law, Energy & the Environment. In turn, I know UC Berkeley's programs and network of graduates in the environmental and public interest sectors will help me strengthen the skills and build the perspective I need to make impactful contributions to environmental law.

My dedication to environmental and social justice began early in life. Inspired by childhood visits to national parks and my teen years volunteering as a wildlife educator, I pursued a Bachelor of Science in environmental policy at UC Davis. There, I learned how a history of marginalizing communities has left entire populations disproportionately facing environmental harms. This awareness fueled my commitment to ensuring that underrepresented communities are heard and their rights protected. By attending law school, I aim to become an environmental lawyer and advocate for equitable access to clean, safe natural resources. One of my most meaningful and educational experiences was interning with a Tribal-run water nonprofit. As I researched environmental regulations and water management projects for potential environmental impacts, I spoke with Tribal members and centered my analysis on their input. This experience showed me how little I knew about indigenous and local knowledge, and taught me humility, active listening, and the value of respectful collaboration—principles I will carry into my legal career. Building on this foundation, I integrated environmental justice into two research projects. In my undergraduate research on hydrogen infrastructure, I proposed sampling strategies and survey questions to ensure our data included the perspectives of low-income populations and community-based organizations. In law school, I contributed research for a state climate report, focusing on the challenges low-income communities face in climate adaptation and emergency planning. These projects reinforced my understanding that there are significant gaps in our knowledge of how policy distributes long-term harms and benefits across communities. Seeking to close some of these knowledge gaps, I served on two symposium boards. I first coordinated and moderated a panel of Tribal members about land use planning. In it, we discussed tensions between Tribal and state goals, as well as differences between Tribal stewardship and Western financing models. I also organized a panel on wastewater reuse standards, which weighed water needs in drought-prone areas against waste disposal concerns. These conversations strengthened my commitment to inclusive policy discussions, as they demonstrated how a diverse group can effectively identify a broader range of policy impacts. This summer, I am working as a California Lawyers Association Environmental Law Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion Fellow. Placed at the California Public Utilities Commission, I have conducted legal research advocating for a low-income community at risk of losing water utility service and participated in an investigation to ensure consumers do not bear the cost of an over-budget project. For each assignment, I used my law and science backgrounds to translate complex legal and quantitative data into persuasive, evidence-based arguments. Accordingly, this internship has reaffirmed my interest in using interdisciplinary knowledge to address environmental and economic disparities. Looking forward, I plan to use law, science, and community engagement to promote environmental justice and social equity. I want to amplify marginalized voices and use accessible information to bridge educational, disciplinary, and cultural gaps. To that goal, I constantly seek opportunities to build relationships with diverse communities. For instance, while not a member of the blind community myself, I have been training guide dogs since college and negotiated with UC Berkeley to allow students to bring service dogs in training to class. I also volunteer on a website connecting community members with legal resources, and mentor students in my high school’s S.T.E.M. programs and Davis’ environmental department. In the past year alone, I have dedicated over 680 hours to volunteering with and learning from different communities. This would have been impossible without generous donors and scholarships like this, which enable me to dedicate my time to my studies and community service. Thank you for your time and consideration.

In high school, I volunteered at the Don Edwards National Wildlife Refuge. There, I helped plant Spartina foliosa with fingers numbed by the cold, surveyed the extent of Alectoria sarmentosa as I waded through mud and set up irrigation wires as rain pelted my jacket and egrets stalked nearby. I had always loved looking for the glint of the SF Bay through the fog and running down the beaches, but it was here at Don Edwards that I truly fell in love with the ocean and the vast diversity of ecosystems that surround it. Four years later as a senior studying Environmental Policy at the University of California, Davis, our oceans still have a special place in my heart. My long-term goal is to study environmental law and, perhaps not surprisingly, my primary interest lies in water policy. Recently, I had the opportunity to delve into this topic by analyzing the ongoing Yurok Tribe, et al. v. United States Bureau of Reclamation case. Writing my analysis ultimately required knowledge of water and species protection laws, management plans, and environmental justice. However, at its core, the case was a complex science question, requiring a fundamental understanding of water flow, pollutant dispersion rates, chemical interactions, and ecological cascades. I also wrote a policy brief for kelp forest restoration off the California coast, an endeavor that involved compiling environmental restoration studies from around the world, remote sensing maps, and presenting my policy suggestions in a concise two-page document. These two challenging tasks were gratifying, as I was able to produce works that demonstrated the complexity of water policy while also breaking down the information for a broader audience. Going forward, by continuing to combine my science and policy knowledge, my goal is to facilitate collaboration between stakeholders to promote conservation. Throughout my university experience, I have also been involved in environmental work outside of academics. I got to further explore the biology and hydrology aspects of water policy when I contracted with a water advocacy organization and helped them research and design a series of water conservation education posts. I also joined the Sierra Club Young Adult Advisory Board and several environmental clubs on campus. Additionally, this summer I am very excited to volunteer as a researcher with a conservation non-profit for which my role is to read theoretical literature and test the conclusions in real life to improve conservation messaging and engagement. Working at Don Edwards greatly influenced my love of the ocean because I had the rare opportunity to visit healthy, biodiverse sites under strict protection by the state and careful minding by an army of scientists and volunteers. I aim to ensure that marine ecosystems stay healthy enough to continue inspiring future generations with the wonder of the natural world. I know my degree in Environmental Policy and my future career in environmental law will equip me with the necessary tools and knowledge to help protect our oceans. Through my work, I want to advocate for policies that preserve marine habitats, mitigate climate change impacts, and promote sustainable uses of ocean resources, and by working towards these goals, I aim to ensure that future generations will have access to healthy marine ecosystems that provide invaluable benefits to our planet. Thank you for taking the time to consider my application!

As a kid, being a second-generation Chinese-American meant frantically paging through two reference guides in my head--“How to be Chinese” and “American 101”–only to find missing pages and mix up the texts completely. I never felt I fit in anywhere I stood and I often thought of my ethnicity as a burden. In fact, I can summarize my childhood understanding of Asian American life in three parts: my parents’ scorn for superstition, the struggle of learning Mandarin in an English-speaking household, and the debate tournament in which my opponents argued allowing a Chinese “model minority” to compete was unfair. However, my perception of my identity started to change when I found one niche in which I finally fit: cheling class. Afternoon cheling, or Chinese yo-yo, classes solely motivated me through my morning Mandarin lessons. I fell in love with the moving logic puzzle I saw each trick as, and though at first I just watched and mimicked what my teacher showed me, eventually I understood some of the language by hearing words and phrases in context. Even more helpful, I joined the demonstration team later that year and spent up to twenty-six hours a weekend practicing, traveling, and performing with a bilingual team. My teammates helped me understand the cultural context behind every event at which we performed, quietly translated presentations, and most importantly, introduced me to yuanxiao and other festival foods. I am always grateful to my friends for patiently answering my questions and extending their camaraderie when I made mistakes, and so I do my best to pay forward their kindness similarly. During performances, I hope to give other Chinese-American youth a moment where they see someone who looks like them on stage. The rest of the time I'm at an event, I often work at a booth or workshop where I invite attendees to try Chinese yo-yo. Many people will try once and hand back my sticks out of embarrassment, but since anyone who walks away at that moment likely won’t have another chance to try a hobby in which they could end up being interested, I’ll quickly give them a specific tip and encourage them to try one more time. In addition to first-time learners, I’ve met many people who shared how they watched or played Chinese yo-yo as a child before coming to America, and I love seeing their excitement when they play with one again and teach me new tricks. I loved teaching at events so much, I later began volunteering as the assistant coach for my demonstration team. Nearly every weekend for seven years, I choreographed showcases for cultural events across California and taught K-12 students: I’d give a hug to a student who had a bad day in school, perspective to another who was not advancing as quickly as they wanted, and suggestions for a new skill to a student bored with practicing the same tricks. With these small interactions, I want to show the person I’m working with that I don’t mind giving them individual attention and adjusting my lessons for them. My experiences volunteering with the team led to my decisions to start a cheling class at my old elementary school, produce YouTube tutorials during COVID-19, perform a series of charity shows, participate in a virtual international cultural exchange, and stay listed as the team’s on-call substitute coach when I moved for college. Still, above all, the nearly eighty events I helped with as assistant coach will always collectively constitute the service project with the greatest meaning to me. The exhausting weekend rehearsals and long nights of choreography shaped my cultural identity, leadership, and passion for service. Not only that, but through my years of coaching, I eventually realized the constant frustration I had felt as a child is a shared experience amongst many children of immigrants, and I will forever be thankful for the opportunity to have created safe spaces for other young Asian-Americans. As for “How to be Chinese” and “American 101,” they have been set to the side. I don’t need either of them to tell me how to be Chinese-American now that I have an ever-expanding collection of personal experiences to guide me perfectly well.

About two years ago, I started volunteering at the Oakland Zoo's palm oil information table. There, I asked a senior volunteer: “What specific changes make palm oil qualify as sustainable?” Interestingly, neither of us could come up with a clear set of criteria, so I became curious. When the first few articles Google offered up did not answer my question either, I unknowingly began a long-term project on how I can help make palm oil more economically and environmentally sustainable. I focused on palm oil because it is the most produced vegetable oil globally, and it appears in about half of all consumable products. Further, environmental and human rights organizations have drawn attention to problems in the industry, including air, soil, and water pollution; child labor and debt trafficking; mass deforestation; and the forcible displacement of rural communities and indigenous groups. Scientists often communicate with jargon, poor engagement, and an assumption of a “knowledge deficiency,” so I addressed the communication barrier first. I thought about how I could creatively share what I had so far learned in my research, interviews, and conferences, and in 2020, I created a presentation for the Oakland Zoo, eventually recording a video of it as well. In 2021, I wrote my first article (“The Oil Everyone Doesn’t Know They’re Obsessed With”) with help from UC Davis graduate students as editors, and I published it on the UC Davis' Animal Behavior Graduate Group's website. Now, in 2022, I have started delivering persuasive speeches, my first being a presentation to my local Rotary area where I applied their "Rotary 4-way Test" to the palm oil industry. One solvency I advocate for is checking the labels on products. A common misconception is that the solution to a problem is a universal boycott, but the palm oil industry is so massive and integral, a boycott would at best, be ineffective, and at worst, destroy an industry that supports millions of impoverished workers. Rather, consumers can uplift companies that do treat their workers, community, and environment with respect by looking for products marked “Certified Sustainable Palm Oil,” “Green Palm Sustainability,” or “Rainforest Alliance Certified” to make sure their money goes to vetted sustainable companies. This allows the public to deal with an everyday problem with a simple, everyday action. Another strategy I highlight is legislation because "certified sustainable" labels are beneficial, but not perfect; non-governmental organizations do not have enforcement power, and most do not have enough staff to regularly check the facilities they have certified. However, a bill introduced in the House of Representatives could resolve this. H.R.5863, or the “End Palm Oil Deforestation Act,” would create a public forum on palm oil sustainability criteria. The Department of Agriculture would then work with the Secretary of State and Environmental Protection Agency to finalize the criteria, and apply them to future U.S. palm oil imports and investments, a collective effort that would give multiple parties input on the standards. Palm oil sustainability is a topic I will continue pursuing in college. One idea that fascinated me was using yeast to produce synthetic palm oil, and I would like to intern with a company like C16 Biosciences that uses this process, or Impossible Foods, which uses a similar process to produce the blood-mimicking heme in their product. I also want to explore what steps increase the chance of a policy change being effective, and learn how I can employ different communication strategies to convey information to consumers. Finally, I will continue volunteering in conservation education. I love encouraging kids' questions, especially since I never know when something might spark their curiosity.

Someone once told me the opposite of stress is hope, but I’d argue gratitude is. When someone holds a door for me, for example, it doesn’t matter if I’m late or worried about what room I’m supposed to go to; in that instant, I can’t help but appreciate how someone gave a stranger some of their time. Giving is important to me because it inherently requires empathy, kindness, and humanity, qualities the world needs more of. I give back through my leadership in several organizations, but I’ll always have a special appreciation for the impact I have through diabolo. When I’m teaching someone at a fair, they will often try once and hand back my sticks out of embarrassment. Anyone who walks away in that moment likely won’t have another chance to try a hobby they might end up being interested in, so I’ll quickly give them a specific tip and encourage them to try one more time. In eighth grade, I started teaching diabolo twice a week. This came with new challenges, but I take the same approach: I’ll give a hug to a student who had a bad day in school, perspective to another who isn’t advancing as quickly as they want, and suggestions for a new skill to a student bored with practicing the same tricks. With these short interactions, I want to share a part of my culture and also show the person I’m working with that I don’t mind giving them individual attention. Whether they got the prop to spin for ten seconds or put together a choreography, every person I’ve taught has accomplished something. I hope each individual recognizes their achievement and walks away with a little more confidence that there are people in the world who will unconditionally offer their support.