One favorite hobby is art. In second grade I was asked to do a science project on any animal. I chose a hummingbird and my dad and I built a model of it out of clay. I think I was especially because it gave me a new love: studio art that I practice in my free time by painting. I’ve realized that this is something my dad and I bond over. While I am painting, I run through my ideas and color choices with him. It showed me that my hobby in art is an amazing way to make meaningful connections with all types of people. As an Indian classical dancer, I’m reminded that each piece is also a collection of stories teaching me about my culture. I started reading about Hindu myths, fascinated to learn that Hinduism is more a philosophy. I began instigating discussions in class and stayed up reading Hindi philosophical texts. The more I read, the more I challenged my understanding like asking how can we use the Hindu definition of feminism to empower women? I incorporated learnings into dance interpretations, giving me joy that I’m able to appreciate Bharatnatyam as a multifaceted art form. I’ve tried to learn something profound from niche dance pieces. One piece we had was where we expressed a girl longing for a boy to come home. I remember being confused as to why she was doing so much for someone who might not love her back. But I learned that as a dancer, my job is to embody the character without judgment. So from a very niche dance topic, I got a societal lesson on non-judgment, one I have tried to follow since. Creating art, but also learning something and making connections, has made me incredibly happy.

My acts of service often lie in the realm of suicide prevention and mental health. My brother, friend and I have co-founded and continue to work on our Suicide Prevention Campaign which will post a reason-to-live for 365 days. We are applying to present, share, and spread our idea at a local TEDxYouth event. We have since expanded the campaign by starting to create a website that also communicates the reasons to live (coming from friends, family, strangers and support from local businesses) and holistic tips for mental health. It will also give a place for visitors of the website to enter their own reasons-to-live that will be posted. While my brother and friend design the website, my job is the coding component using self-taught programming as well as more complex JavaScript and HTML that I’m now learning. In the same realm of suicide prevention, I have been selected to be a peer leader at my school, with an organization Sources and Strength, to support the mental health of my peers by sharing the importance of certain positive factors such as family support and healthy activities through different art projects. Through this leadership initiative, I am helping to get the word out to at least 75% of our student body by the end of the school year. These acts of service are incredibly important to me as the help others struggling with a major issue: mental health.

A simple pleasure in my life is art. In second grade I was asked to do a science project on any animal. I chose a hummingbird and my dad and I built a model of it out of clay. I think I was especially because it gave me a new love: studio art that I practice in my free time by painting. I’ve realized that this is something my dad and I bond over. While I am painting, I run through my ideas and color choices with him. It showed me that my hobby in art is an amazing way to make meaningful connections with all types of people. As an Indian classical dancer, I’m reminded that each piece is also a collection of stories teaching me about my culture. I started reading about Hindu myths, fascinated to learn that Hinduism is more a philosophy. I began instigating discussions in class and stayed up reading Hindi philosophical texts. The more I read, the more I challenged my understanding like asking how can we use the Hindu definition of feminism to empower women? I incorporated learnings into dance interpretations, giving me joy that I’m able to appreciate Bharatnatyam as a multifaceted art form. I’ve tried to learn something profound from niche dance pieces. One piece we had was where we expressed a girl longing for a boy to come home. I remember being confused as to why she was doing so much for someone who might not love her back. But I learned that as a dancer, my job is to embody the character without judgment. So from a very niche dance topic, I got a societal lesson on non-judgment, one I have tried to follow since. Creating art, but also learning something and making connections, has made me incredibly happy.

My career goals lie in medicine. I have long been inspired by the book Because Tomorrow Needs Her by a Doctors Without Borders OB/GYN. She discusses the unfortunately high maternal mortality rates around the world by telling heartbreaking stories about how pregnant women, who face complications, lack the transportation to get to medical care. So many of her stories have ended with a woman's body covered on the hospital floor after dying giving birth because she couldn’t get there in time—sad reminders of the disparities in quality health services around the world. Pregnancy complications shouldn’t be a death sentence in the 21st century. Local health clinics should be able to call an ambulance to transport women into the care of trained hospital staff. I dream of contributing to a solution: by establishing ambulance referral systems in communities that need them. When Doctors Without Borders implemented this ambulance program in Kabezi, Burundi, maternal mortality rates dropped by 64%. My goal for the future is to be someone who joins Doctors Without Borders as a physician and helps in their projects of establishing infrastructure, particularly ambulance referral systems in communities that need them especially in South Sudan which has the world’s highest maternal mortality rate: 789 deaths per 100,000 births. This will be the launchpad to my greatest goal and passion which is to save more women from fatal pregnancy complications.

I stared at a picture of the blood-brain barrier (BBB) with annoyance. While its role in blocking foreign objects from the brain is crucial, it impaired my potential solution to anorexia nervosa: counteract low dopamine levels by injecting the hormone directly into cerebral fluid. After days of research, I found a new solution: since the barrier’s semi-permeable nature allows for the diffusion of lipid-soluble molecules like barbiturates, I could deliver the dopamine via a preoperative sedative (a barbiturate) that penetrates the BBB, and allow patients to get pleasure from eating. I was exhilarated. And hooked. After discovering the brain’s role in other disorders, I became fascinated by how it worked—or didn’t work. I realized that though the brain was often the problem, it could also be the solution. Since then, I've pitched ideas on how to use the brain in almost every class STEM paper: "Bypassing the BBB with nanotechnology to target primary brain tumors." "Increasing glucose levels to strengthen willpower." "Using stimulants to activate the prefrontal cortex in autistic children." The brain is more than just an organ— it's equipped me to be an innovator in my own home and helped me process calculus’ mind-boggling 0/0, or the physics of an airplane’s oscillation. For more experience working with the brain, I began researching mental illnesses at Stanford, discovering that brain imaging data could be used to predict early-onset symptoms. Imagine the power that could give doctors in preventing serious afflictions like depression. These experiences have made me passionate about the brain, and all it can do. I hope to study the intricacies of it in the future and use my learnings in a practical setting to help others.

I think this Mechanism should explore the problem of mental health in teens around the world due to the fact that it affects almost everyone. Think about the people you know who suffer from mental health, or if you know someone who knows someone struggling with mental health. Think about the people who may have heard of who have committed suicide. I alone know or have heard of 3 people in my community who have committed suicide and many people suffering with mental health issues. That is too many people. Mechanism should put its efforts into tackling this problem because there is so much one can do to try to address the problem. I have done so with my own efforts and activities such as research and a suicide prevention campaign. First, I have focused on research in behavioral sciences and mental health. For this, I taught myself statistics, Linux, shell-scripting and R-programming and then used it to program a regression model. The simplest way to put our research is to imagine a 10-year-old child coming into the doctor's office with symptoms of depression: What if a doctor could put this child’s data (gender, race, socioeconomic status, family environment, brain activity and so on) into a regression model and predict what this child’s symptoms of depression might look like when she is 12 years old? If the symptoms were to get worse, then the medical team could intervene immediately and prevent worsening symptoms as the patient grows older. Together with Stanford Professor Supekar, this incredibly powerful prevention tool is the regression model I am building by researching the factors that best predict changes in mental health. Once the most significant factors are discovered, they can be used in both a practical and clinical setting to help children as they mature. My brother, friend and I have been working on our Suicide Prevention Campaign which will post a reason-to-live for 365 days. We are applying to present, share, and spread our idea at a local TEDxYouth event. We have expanded the campaign by starting to create a website that also communicates the reasons to live (coming from friends, family, strangers and support from local businesses) and holistic tips for mental health. It will also give a place for visitors of the website to enter their own reasons-to-live that will be posted. While my brother and friend design the website, my job is the coding component using self-taught programming as well as more complex JavaScript and HTML that I’m now learning. In the same realm of suicide prevention, I have been selected to be a peer leader at my school, with an organization Sources and Strength, to support the mental health of my peers by sharing the importance of certain positive factors such as family support and healthy activities through different art projects. Through this leadership initiative, I am helping to get the word out to at least 75% of our student body by the end of the school year. As you can see, there are many ways and opportunities to tackle the issue of mental health. Thus, Mechanism should focus on this serious problem.

As a Bharatnatyam (Indian classical dance) dancer, something I’ve learned over the last 11 years, I’m always trying to learn something from it in a creative way. I’m reminded that each piece is also a collection of stories teaching me about my culture. I started reading about Hindu myths, fascinated to learn that Hinduism emphasizes the importance of energy over worship, meaning it’s more a philosophy than a religion. No wonder I'm so in love with philosophy—it's in my DNA! I began instigating discussions in class and stayed up reading Hindi philosophical texts. The more I read, the more I challenged my understanding. I asked questions, like how is string theory related to the Hindu word Om, or how can we use the Hindu definition of feminism to empower women? I incorporated my learnings into dance interpretations, appreciating Bharatnatyam even more as a multifaceted art form. I’ve tried to learn something profound from even the most niche dance pieces. I remember this one piece, my most inspiring one, where we expressed a girl longing and waiting for a boy to come home. I remember being confused as to why she was doing so much for someone who might not love her back. But after discussions, I learned that as a dancer, my job is to embody the character and her very human emotions without judgment. So from a very niche dance topic, I got a societal lesson on non-judgment, one I have tried to follow since. Through learning new things through an art form in different ways, I’ve tried to apply creativity in my life.

At my school, I have been invited and accepted to be a peer leader, with an organization Sources and Strength, to support the mental health of my peers by sharing the importance of certain positive factors through art projects such as posters and murals at our school. One of the factors was positive friendships and with a group of peer leaders, I helped contribute to a discussion about what an important friendship was. I remember many ideas being thrown out there from people who are there for you to someone who teaches you and brings you to new perspectives. However, the thing that stood out to me was the positive friendships could be used to positively affect mental health and suicide prevention. They are essentially a source of strength that can be someone to talk to, someone who can listen or someone who can lead you to professional and medical help if needed. Our mission, as peer leaders, is to tell 75% of the students at our school that positive and encouraging friendships are one of the strengths that can be beneficial to their mental health. So friendship is more than someone who is there or teaches you new perspectives. They can be a powerful tool to improve teenagers mental health all around the country.

To keep a growth mindset, I remember one of the main obstacles I faced: being shy. After coming to a new high school, it was difficult for me to public speak or make new friends. At this point, I was planning a dance fundraiser for the Children’s Hospital art therapy program where being shy wasn’t an option that would help me or the hospital. I had to, not just talk, but also lead theaters, dancers, musicians, and hospital boards. For me, it was really important to think about how the money I raised could help multiple people who are in the program cope with psychological and physiological issues. I used that motivation and a growth mindset to push myself into situations I wasn’t comfortable with like having long conversations on the phone or speaking about the importance of this fundraiser to a group of 400 people. And while it was difficult, it was incredibly important as the fundraiser was successful with 400 guests, 100 performers and funds of $6000 that went to the hospital. Once I saw what powerful change I could make when my shy personality didn’t stop me, I kept putting myself in situations where I had to communicate boldly. These were situations that often helped others and improved my community. Reflection has been the most important to overcome this challenge. When I reflected on the many years I was very shy, I noticed that in those years I saw many examples of communication that worked the best and for the benefit of everyone involved and I used this as I got over my shyness. This helped me build an appreciation for my shyness as an experience I have grown from and keep growing from with my growth mindset.

In second grade I was asked to do a science project on any animal. I chose a hummingbird and my dad and I built a model of it out of clay. I think I was especially proud of it because it looked pretty good for a second graders’ project but more importantly, it gave me a new love: studio art, one I always practice in my free time by painting. Since this project, I have realized that studio art is something my dad and I bond over. While I am painting, I run through my ideas and color choices with him or just paint with him. It showed me that my hobby in art is an amazing way to make meaningful connections with all types of people. Whether it’s through gifting my close friends paintings or commenting on street art with a stranger or talking with my dance teacher about the deeper meaning behind my Bharatnatyam (Indian Classical Dance) dance pieces, I am constantly creating new or strengthening old relationships or learning something new. As I practice Bharatnatyam dance, something I’ve learned over the last 11 years, I’m reminded that each piece is also a collection of stories teaching me about my culture. I started reading about Hindu myths, fascinated to learn that Hinduism emphasizes the importance of energy over worship, meaning it’s more a philosophy than a religion. No wonder I'm so in love with philosophy—it's in my DNA! I began instigating discussions in class and stayed up reading Hindi philosophical texts. The more I read, the more I challenged my understanding. I asked questions, like how is string theory related to the Hindu word Om, or how can we use the Hindu definition of feminism to empower women? I incorporated my learnings into dance interpretations, appreciating Bharatnatyam even more as a multifaceted art form. I’ve tried to learn something profound from even the most niche dance pieces. I remember this one piece, my most inspiring one, where we expressed a girl longing and waiting for a boy to come home. I remember being confused as to why she was doing so much for someone who might not love her back. But after discussions, I learned that as a dancer, my job is to embody the character and her very human emotions without judgment. So from a very niche dance topic, I got a societal lesson on non-judgment, one I have tried to follow since. Art and dance are more than a hobby or a painting or a collection of stories. It has become a way to meet and learn about people’s diverse thoughts and ideas. It's bred the constantly-questioning philosopher in me, one whose purpose is to find answers.

I’m often surrounded by mental health issues in those close to me, especially with a close family member. Everyday, I try to help him in some way. Today, it’s teaching him the 4-7-8 breathing technique. When he says he “can’t do this anymore” or feels lost in days that seem the same, my list grows with strategies to help, like validating his emotions, or scheduling his work. When he was diagnosed with anxiety and ADHD, I spent hours looking for therapists, reading studies on his disorders. After reaching out to professors about their research in an effort to empathize with my family members, I found Stanford Professor Kaustubh Supekar, and our conversations turned into a collaborative project: to predict how children’s mental health symptoms worsen as they develop. This is studied based on brain activity, behaviors, environment and diagnoses for example gender, socioeconomic status and a diagnosis of ADHD. This prevention tool would help my brother (and people like him). The simplest way to put it is imagine a child comes into the doctor’s office with depressive symptoms at age 10. The doctor’s could put her data (gender, race, socioeconomic status, family environment and so on) into the regression model I have built and predict what her depressive symptoms look like when she is 12. If they get worse, then doctor’s can intervene right now and prevent that from happening in the first place. It's an incredibly powerful model and with my research I can discover which factors such as different environments best predict changes in mental health, specifically negative changes. Once the most significant factors are discovered, others can come in and encourage positive behaviors in these environments to promote better environments for children and their mental health to develop properly and beneficially. As I engage in more long-term prevention research on how to help my family member and those like him, I have learned new ways to help my brother. I can step back and instead, empower him with tools to problem-solve on his own. I plan to carry these learnings to my future helping career, a physician with the Doctors Without Borders organization. Whether it’s to supply emergency obstetric care services for women with preeclampsia in South Sudan or to provide emergency care for injured Somali refugees, I’ve been busy filling a list with items I hope to tackle in my purposeful future work as a doctor.

I’m a chronic list maker. The first item on my list can't be ticked off until the bells on my anklets clink together as I dance: "practice Bharatanatyam" and "read the Upanishads." As I practice Bharatnatyam dance, something I’ve learned over the last 11 years, I’m reminded that each piece is also a collection of stories teaching me about my culture. I started reading about Hindu myths, fascinated to learn that Hinduism emphasizes the importance of energy over worship, meaning it’s more a philosophy than a religion. No wonder I'm so in love with philosophy—it's in my DNA! I began instigating discussions in class and stayed up reading Hindi philosophical texts. The more I read, the more I challenged my understanding. I asked questions, like how is string theory related to the Hindu word Om, or how can we use the Hindu definition of feminism to empower women? I incorporated my learnings into dance interpretations, appreciating Bharatnatyam even more as a multifaceted art form. It’s become more than a dance or collection of stories. It's bred the constantly-questioning philosopher in me, one whose purpose is to find answers. I’ve tried to learn something profound from even the most niche dance pieces. I remember this one piece, my most inspiring one, where we expressed a girl longing and waiting for a boy to come home. I remember being confused as to why she was doing so much for someone who might not love her back. But after discussions, I learned that as a dancer, my job is to embody the character and her very human emotions without judgment. So from a very niche dance topic, I got a societal lesson on non-judgment, one I have tried to follow since.

I’m often surrounded by mental health issues in those close to me, especially with a close family member. Everyday, I try to help him in some way. Today, it’s teaching him the 4-7-8 breathing technique. When he says he “can’t do this anymore” or feels lost in days that seem the same, my list grows with strategies to help, like validating his emotions, or scheduling his work. When he was diagnosed with anxiety and ADHD, I spent hours looking for therapists, reading studies on his disorders. After reaching out to professors about their research in an effort to empathize with my family members, I found Stanford Professor Kaustubh Supekar, and our conversations turned into a collaborative project: to predict how children’s mental health symptoms worsen as they develop. This is studied based on brain activity, behaviors, environment and diagnoses for example gender, socioeconomic status and a diagnosis of ADHD. This prevention tool would help my brother and people like him. The simplest way to put it is imagine a child comes into the doctor’s office with depressive symptoms at age 10. The doctor’s could put her data (gender, race, socioeconomic status, family environment and so on) into the regression model I have built and predict what her depressive symptoms look like when she is 12. If they get worse, then doctor’s can intervene right now and prevent that from happening in the first place. It's an incredibly powerful model and, with my research, I can discover which factors such as different environments best predict changes in mental health, specifically negative changes. Once the most significant factors are discovered, others can come in and encourage positive behaviors in these environments and factors to promote better environments for children and their mental health so they can develop properly and beneficially. This incredible scholarship will assist me with this lengthy research project that I am still doing and it would be an honor to be awarded this scholarship so I could make a positive impact in the mental health of children all around me.

My great-grandmother was a pioneer: the first in her town to give birth in a hospital. With safe transportation, she had 3 healthy girls, including my grandmother, something almost unheard of in Barwani, India, someplace dominated by home births and limited access to medical resources. Yet others, even today, aren’t so fortunate. South Sudan has the world’s highest maternal mortality rate, with 789 deaths per 100,000 births, and a neonatal mortality rate of 62 deaths per 1,000 births. Hundreds of stories have ended with a woman's body covered on the hospital floor after dying giving birth because she couldn’t get there in time—sad reminders of the disparities in quality health services around the world. Pregnancy complications shouldn’t be a death sentence in the 21st century. Local health clinics should be able to call an ambulance to transport women into the care of trained hospital staff. I dream of contributing to a solution: by establishing ambulance referral systems in communities that need them. When Doctors Without Borders implemented this ambulance program in Kabezi, Burundi, maternal mortality rates dropped by 64%. I envision one day joining their ranks as a Health Promoter, expanding their reach by collecting searing, first-hand accounts and telling images of women affected by lack of access, then using them in social media campaigns launched in first-world countries with the resources to help. The goal: to raise enough money to start an ambulance referral service in Juba, South Sudan, and save more women from fatal pregnancy complications.

I’m a chronic list maker. Almost everything I do is on some list. Even simple things like showering, because oftentimes I’m so engrossed in the day I’ll forget. Crossing items off my list is more than deeply satisfying, it brings purpose to my day and fuels my life. The first item always concerns my brother. When he says he “can’t do it anymore”, my list grows with strategies to help. My brother’s diagnosis with anxiety and ADHD inspired me to spend hours daily studying these disorders and undertaking a collaborative research project that predicts how children’s mental health symptoms worsen based on brain activity and behaviors. The next item on my list is practicing Bharatanatyam dance, reminding me that each piece is a story teaching me about my culture and I became fascinated to learn that Hinduism is more a philosophy than a religion. I began asking more questions, instigating discussions and reading philosophical texts. I incorporated my learnings into dance interpretations, appreciating Bharatnatyam as a multifaceted art form. Dance has bred the constantly-questioning philosopher in me, one whose purpose is to find answers. Despite starting each day creating an intentional list, lists still inspire me to be spontaneous. Sometime ago, I forced myself to list something that pushes me outside my comfort zone, sparking random new ideas. Slowly, risk became comfortable, creating a purpose to share this experience. I have deep relationships with these things that bring purpose. Whether it’s my brother, dance, or personal growth, my inquiry drives me to continually ask questions and seek answers. After asking myself how to contribute to a better world, I’ve envisioned myself as a Doctor Without Borders. Like providing emergency care for injured Somali refugees, I’ve been filling the pages of another list I hope to tackle in my future work.

I’m a chronic list maker. Almost everything I do is on some list. Even simple things like showering, because oftentimes I’m so engrossed in the day I’ll forget. Crossing items off my list is more than deeply satisfying, it brings purpose to my day. The first item on my list can't be ticked off until the bells on my anklets clink together as I dance: "practice Bharatanatyam" and "read the Upanishads." As I practice Bharatnatyam dance, something that has been challenging to learn over the last 11 years while not living in India because of the different culture and Sanskrit language, I’m reminded that each piece is also a collection of stories teaching me about my culture. I started reading about Hindu myths, fascinated to learn that Hinduism emphasizes the importance of energy over worship, meaning it’s more a philosophy than a religion. No wonder I'm so in love with philosophy—it's in my DNA! I began asking more questions and instigating discussions in class and, on an intellectual high, stayed up reading Hindi philosophical texts. The more I read, the more I challenged my understanding. I asked questions, like how is string theory related to the Hindu word Om, or how can we use the Hindu definition of feminism to empower women? I incorporated my learnings into dance interpretations, appreciating Bharatnatyam even more as a multifaceted art form that encourages wisdom. It’s become more than a dance or collection of stories. It's bred the constantly-questioning philosopher in me, one whose purpose is to find answers, both positively impacting me and making me passionate about the movement and learning that comes with the art. Currently, I am working on preparing for a 3-hour solo performance (an Arangetram) at my local theater, surrounded by friends, family, and mentors in the summer of 2022. An Arangetram is considered a way to showcase my journey through dance. It starts with a more complex version of the first dance piece that I learned when I was 5, the Pushpanjali. It then progresses to storytelling using Abhinaya (the art of expression with face and hand gestures), a 40 minute piece to display my stamina in both expression and movement, and then ends with a piece showcasing my understanding of complex rhythm and the math behind the choreography. While this performance is technically a graduation of dance, for me, it’s the start of a new chapter: sharing the art form to young dancers.

My favorite class I have taken is AP U.S. History. Before, I never saw a purpose in history, yet my teacher would start many discussions in class and we would always somehow connect the past to what’s happening now. For the first time, I saw a value in history as a way to make sure we don’t repeat the same mistakes. Thus, when I started two social justice clubs, Desis for Change and Do Something club, I made sure to emphasize the idea of talking about the current issues, how it relates to similar issues in the past and how to use these conversations in our different initiatives. For the Do Something club, for example, we talked about the large amount of racism and discrimination that cerain minorities faced. While these horrifying experiences have decreased, they are not gone. We came to the conclusion that currently, people struggle with coping with the discrimination they face as it’s not often recognized. As a result, we decided to do a campaign against discrimination by texting coping guides to people close to us and encouraging them to forward it to others. Or for the Black Lives Matter movement, we, in the Desis for Change organization, recognized that there is a current need for large organizations to get funds so they can host far reaching campaigns and events that will support the BLM movement. So, we hosted a talent show fundraiser where we allowed artists to dance, talked about the BLM movement in detail, posted it on YouTube and raised $3000 for the National Association for the Advancement of Colored People.

I’m a chronic list maker. I have deep relationships with the purposeful list items. Whether it’s my brother, dance, or personal growth, my innate sense of inquiry drives me to continually ask questions and seek answers. After asking myself how to contribute to a better world, I’ve envisioned myself as a physician with Doctors Without Borders. Whether it’s to supply emergency obstetric care services for women with preeclampsia in South Sudan or to provide emergency care for injured Somali refugees, I’ve been busy filling the pages of another list I hope to tackle in my work as a doctor.

I’m a chronic list maker. Almost everything I do is on some list. Even simple things like showering, because oftentimes I’m so engrossed in the day I’ll forget. Crossing items off my list is more than deeply satisfying, it brings purpose to my day. The first item always concerns my brother. When he says he “can’t do it anymore”, my list grows with strategies to help. My brother’s diagnosis with anxiety and ADHD inspired me to spend hours daily studying these disorders and undertaking a collaborative research project that predicts how children’s mental health symptoms worsen based on brain activity and behaviors. The next item on my list is practicing Bharatanatyam dance, reminding me that each piece is a story teaching me about my culture and I became fascinated to learn that Hinduism is more a philosophy than a religion. I began asking more questions, instigating discussions and reading philosophical texts. I incorporated my learnings into dance interpretations, appreciating Bharatnatyam as a multifaceted art form. Dance has bred the constantly-questioning philosopher in me, one whose purpose is to find answers. Despite starting each day creating an intentional list, lists still inspire me to be spontaneous. Sometime ago, I forced myself to list something that pushes me outside my comfort zone, sparking random new ideas. Slowly, risk became comfortable, creating a purpose to share this experience. I have deep relationships with these things that bring purpose. Whether it’s my brother, dance, or personal growth, my inquiry drives me to continually ask questions and seek answers. After asking myself how to contribute to a better world, I’ve envisioned myself as a Doctor Without Borders. Like providing emergency care for injured Somali refugees, I’ve been filling the pages of another list I hope to tackle in my future work.

I’m a chronic list maker. The first item always concerns my brother. When he says he “can’t do it anymore”, my list grows with strategies to help. My brother’s diagnosis with anxiety and ADHD inspired me to spend hours daily studying these disorders. I connected with Stanford Professor Supekar and undertook a collaborative research project that predicts how children’s mental health symptoms worsen based on brain activity and behaviors. As I engage in more long-term prevention research for my brother and those like him, I’m reminded that helping is one of my purposes. The next item on my list is practicing Bharatanatyam dance, reminding me that each piece is a story teaching me about my culture and I became fascinated to learn that Hinduism is more a philosophy than a religion. I began asking more questions, instigating discussions and reading philosophical texts. I asked questions, like how can the Hindu definition of feminism empower women? I incorporated my learnings into dance interpretations, appreciating Bharatnatyam as a multifaceted art form. Dance has bred the constantly-questioning philosopher in me, one whose purpose is to find answers. Despite starting each day creating an intentional list, lists still inspire me to be spontaneous. Sometime ago, I forced myself to list something that pushes me outside my comfort zone, sparking random new ideas. Slowly, risk became comfortable, creating a purpose to share this experience. I have deep relationships with these things that bring purpose. Whether it’s my brother, dance, or personal growth, my inquiry drives me to continually ask questions and seek answers. After asking myself how to contribute to a better world, I’ve envisioned myself as a Doctor Without Borders. Like providing emergency care for injured Somali refugees, I’ve been filling the pages of another list I hope to tackle in my future work.

I’m often surrounded by mental health issues in those close to me, especially with my brother. Everyday, I try to help him in some way. Today, it’s teaching him the 4-7-8 breathing technique. When he says he “can’t do this anymore” or feels lost in days that seem the same, my list grows with strategies to help, like validating his emotions, or scheduling his work. When he was diagnosed with anxiety and ADHD, I spent hours looking for therapists, reading studies on his disorders. After reaching out to professors about their research in an effort to empathize with my brother, I found Stanford Professor Kaustubh Supekar, and our conversations turned into a collaborative project: to predict how children’s mental health symptoms worsen based on brain activity, behaviors like gender and diagnoses like ADHD. This prevention tool would help my brother (and people like him), but I also learned how to help him in other ways: by stepping back and not pushing as hard, by empowering him with tools but letting him problem-solve on his own. Together my brother and I, along with a friend, have collaborated to help others with mental health, most specifically suicidal thoughts. We pitched ourselves and partnered with a national mental health organization, SAVE, to launch a suicide prevention campaign. On social media, with a following of 10,000 and growing, we will post a reason to live everyday, given by people around us, for 365 days. Our goal for the future is to finish preparing, launch this and help it grow and touch many people.

I’m a chronic list maker. Almost everything I do is on some list. Even simple things, like eating, because oftentimes, I’m so engrossed in the day, I’ll forget. Crossing items off my list is also deeply satisfying. It brings added purpose to my day. The most important item on each day’s list tugs at my heart: It’s often something to do with my brother. Today, it’s teaching him the 4-7-8 breathing technique. When he says he “can’t do this anymore” or feels lost in days that seem the same, my list grows with strategies to help, like validating his emotions, or scheduling his work. When he was diagnosed with anxiety and ADHD, I spent hours looking for therapists, reading studies on his disorders. After reaching out to professors about their research in an effort to empathize with my brother, I found Stanford Professor Kaustubh Supekar, and our conversations turned into a collaborative project: to predict how children’s mental health symptoms worsen based on brain activity, behaviors like gender and diagnoses like ADHD. This prevention tool would help my brother (and people like him), but I also learned how to help him in other ways: by stepping back and not pushing as hard, by empowering him with tools but letting him problem-solve on his own. Watching him go through these techniques, I have been able to empathize with him and then, by taking it a step further, help him.

In second grade I was asked to do a science project on any animal. I chose a hummingbird and my dad and I built a model of it out of clay. I think I was especially proud of it because it looked pretty good for a second graders’ project but more importantly, it gave me a new love: studio art, one I always practice in my free time by painting. Since this project, I have realized that studio art is something my dad and I bond over. While I am painting, I run through my ideas and color choices with him or just paint with him. It showed me that my hobby in art is an amazing way to make meaningful connections with all types of people. Whether it’s through gifting my close friends paintings or commenting on street art with a stranger or talking with my dance teacher about the deeper meaning behind my Bharatnatyam (Indian Classical Dance) dance pieces, I am constantly creating new or strengthening old relationships. Art is more than a hobby. It has become a way to meet and learn about people’s diverse thoughts and ideas.

I have been dancing Bharatnatyam, Indian Classical dance since I was 5 and consider dancing a talent. Yet to practice it, I understand that each classical Indian piece isn’t just a dance but a collection of stories that teaches me about my culture. Curious, I started reading about Hindu myths, fascinated to learn that my religion emphasizes the importance of energy over worship—meaning Hinduism is more of a philosophy than a religion. No wonder I'm so in love with philosophy—it's in my DNA! I began to ask more questions and start more discussions in class and, on an intellectual high, stayed up reading Hindi philosophy texts. The more I read, the more I challenged my understanding, asking new questions, like, how is string theory in physics related to Om? Or, how can we use the Hindu definition of feminism to empower women? I also incorporated my learnings into my dance interpretations, appreciating Bharatnatyam even more as a multifaceted art form that encourages peace and wisdom. It’s become more than a talent. It's bred the constantly-questioning philosopher in me when I practice it.

I pace around my room in anticipation, thinking about my gap year, and then furiously scribbling down ideas on a sticky note. The final product: a bucket list to map the year. Perform on the final dance stage: I’ll start with a 3-hour solo Bharatanatyam performance (Arangetram). While this is technically a graduation, as I have accomplished the completion of over 11 years of dance, for me, it’ll kickstart a new chapter: teaching the art form to young dancers. Raise awareness of high maternal-mortality rates: I’ve long been inspired by the book I read, Because Tomorrow Needs Her, rich with first-hand stories that often ended with an expectant mother dying because she couldn’t reach a hospital. I want to share these stories through film. My goal: to land a social impact internship with Participant Media, interviewing the families of girls tragically affected by scarce transportation, using their words as narration to broadcast their call for help. Come home to my inner self: My favorite TED Talk, Where is Home?, spotlights a Catholic hermitage, where writer Pico Iyer lived for 3 days in silence. I want that experience: how energy pulses in the air and concerns vanish. Will stillness feel like coming home? Or will I get closer to my inner self? After my retreat, I’d develop fundraising plans for the hermitage while interning with the Donor Relations Manager. Empower survivors: I hope to intern with V-Day, helping the non-profit teach valuable leadership skills to women who escaped violence. I hope to join college in fall 2023 with that original sticky note, a reminder I’m starting my higher-education journey enriched with one-of-a-kind experiences that have nurtured further growth in art, spirituality, and social justice.

My great-grandmother was a pioneer: the first in her town to give birth in a hospital. With safe transportation, she had 3 healthy girls, including my grandmother, something almost unheard of in Barwani, India, someplace dominated by home births and limited access to medical resources. Yet others, even today, aren’t so fortunate. I’ve long been inspired by Because Tomorrow Needs Her, a book with a collection of first-hand heartbreaking stories that often ended with a women’s lifeless body on the hospital floor, another expectant mother who died giving birth because she couldn’t get there in time—sad reminders of the worldwide disparity in quality healthcare. It brought statistics to life such as in South Sudan which has the world’s highest maternal mortality rate, with 789 deaths per 100,000 births, and a neonatal mortality rate of 62 deaths per 1,000 births. Pregnancy complications shouldn’t be a death sentence in the 21st century. Local health clinics should be able to call an ambulance to transport women into the care of trained hospital staff. After reading that book, written by a Doctors Without Borders physician, I dream of contributing to a solution: help set up ambulance referral systems to give pregnant women easier access to transportation to save their and their babies’ lives. When Doctors Without Borders implemented this ambulance program in Kabezi, Burundi, maternal mortality rates dropped by 64%. I envision one day joining their ranks as a Health Promoter, expanding their reach by collecting searing, first-hand accounts and telling images of women affected by lack of access, then using them in social media campaigns launched in first-world countries with the resources to help. The goal: to raise enough money to start an ambulance referral service in Juba, South Sudan, and save more women from fatal pregnancy complications.

My blind great-grandmother was a pioneer: the first woman in her town to give birth in a hospital. With safe transportation, she had 3 healthy girls, including my grandmother, something almost unheard of in Barwani, India, a town dominated by home births and limited access to medical resources. Yet others, even today, aren’t so fortunate. South Sudan has the world’s highest maternal mortality rate, with 789 deaths per 100,000 births, and a neonatal mortality rate of 62 deaths per 1,000 births. Hundreds of stories have ended with a woman's body covered on the hospital floor after dying giving birth because she couldn’t get there in time—sad reminders of the disparities in quality health services around the world. Pregnancy complications shouldn’t be a death sentence in the 21st century. Local health clinics should be able to call an ambulance to transport women into the care of trained hospital staff. I dream of contributing to a solution: by establishing ambulance referral systems in countries that need them. When Doctors Without Borders implemented this ambulance program in Kabezi, Burundi, maternal mortality rates dropped by 64%. I envision one day joining their ranks as a Health Promoter, expanding their reach by developing an awareness campaign, with searing, first-hand accounts and telling images about women affected by lack of access and launching in first-world countries through large social media campaigns. The goal: to raise enough money to start an ambulance referral service in Juba, South Sudan and save women from fatal pregnancy complications. Locally, however, I envision myself staying up late rereading the heart breaking stories in Because Tomorrow Needs Her and annotating for what I want to be a part of my future campaign.