I found myself in a pickle. I made my friend accidentally bald—how? It's unimportant—and I had to find a way to solve it. As a normal person would do, I went to my high school workshop and crafted a special hairpin. I asked my friend to place it on her bald head, and voilà—her hair started growing again. I woke up from this dream, essentially laughing. But this is a perfect example of why I love engineering and innovation so much: where most people might see absurdity, I see possibility. My imagination, whether sparked by nonsensical dreams or a real-life challenge, is what drives me to build things—sometimes outlandish, sometimes life-saving, nonetheless inspired by curiosity. That same curiosity turned fear into my first invention. Growing up on a farm in the countryside of Brazil, my mom would check me for ticks after I played outside. I never understood her fear until many years later when I saw the news: a girl from my town had died from Brazilian Spotted Fever caused by a tick bite. That shook me. I suddenly remembered all the ticks I had removed from me. Soon after, biologists from the Biological Institute of Sao Paulo visited my school. They explained how ticks detect hosts with heat, breathing, and movement biological sensors. My mind immediately began racing—could we trick ticks into chasing a trap instead? So, again, as a normal person would do, I convinced my friends to help me build one. We contacted researchers, entered tick-infested areas with sealed-up boots with them, and studied how dry ice mimicked an animal's breath. Our solution was Papa Tick: a solar-powered trap that lures ticks with sublimating CO2 and electrocutes them using a custom-designed grid. No pesticides, no chemicals—just clean and innovative engineering. This was done with the guidance of excellent professors; we 3D-modeled, prototyped, tested, and even filed a patent. The day I showed Papa Tick to my mom, she cried—perhaps out of pride and worry. She told everyone in the family about my invention. That moment reminded me why I built not just for technical excellence but to protect and uplift the people I love. From that tick trap to my current robotics research, I've always been driven by the same belief: that the gap between imagination and reality is smaller than it seems. Every fictional robot I admired growing up—Baymax, Wall-E, even Marvin the Paranoid Android—represents a dream not just of machines but of empathy. My vision for the future of robotics is one where robots are soft, humanized companions: safe, kind, and helpful. To achieve this vision, I need education more than anything. Fortunately, what I've received at Oberlin College has changed my life, exposing me even more to technologies and opportunities to impact my community. Since then, I've explored different parts of robotics and renewable energy projects. These last years, I co-designed a hybrid system to power the Shagbark Learning Center, a multi-purpose retreat in Oberlin/OH. It's an off-grid solution that provides electricity to three buildings—a cabin, a sugar shed, and an outhouse—using a photovoltaic (PV) array and a micro wind turbine. As a first-generation international student from Brazil, being recently admitted to Columbia University's Combined Plan in Electrical Engineering is a dream come true. Financing my education in New York City is my next big challenge, hopeful and relentless. My mission is clear: to become one of the great inventors of my time, using engineering to serve humanity and bring ideas—whether born in dreams or the dirt of my childhood farm—into the real world. After all, I'm never truly I'me dreaming.

Winter is coming, and as I prepare for the season, I think of my grandmother’s patchwork blanket. My mom found it years ago while organizing the wardrobe—which was quite needed. Each colorful piece tells a story about my family in Barra do Chapeu, a small rural town in Brazil. I see my life as a patchwork quilt stitched together from experiences that continue to shape my path as a first-generation student. One piece of my quilt takes me back to my grandmother’s farm. After playing outside with my cousins, I would sit with my mom, carefully looking for ticks. It wasn’t until I became a young adult that I processed my mother’s fears. Years later, when Brazilian Spotted Fever (BSF) threatened the city where I studied, I couldn’t ignore the problem. Soon after, my school hosted a presentation from the Biological Institute of Sao Paulo (BISP) to explain the science and dangers of ticks. Could we make a trap to attract ticks? How could we neutralize them? The idea seemed impossible. But, I was curious. I realized I didn’t have all the knowledge to address the issue either, but I wanted to learn. Working with biologists and friends, I led the Papa Tick project, creating a solution that can protect hundreds of people. I combined my experiences with electric fly swatters, prototyping, and solar panels to create a single system. That experience showed me how combining community expertise with initiative could yield meaningful results. Another patch reminds me of my aunt Felina. She was building a house and needed help surveying the land. I arrived with a drone I bought with the money I had saved from being a tutor, and its sharp buzz startled the chickens. “It sounds like a bee,” my uncle joked, laughing as he watched it soar. “Almost, uncle—it’s a drone,” I replied, proud of how to use technology to solve real problems. With my knowledge of photogrammetry, I measured the land and captured aerial images for her. That same problem-solving mindset guided me during one project last semester when I did landscape photography—but now in a different country. Moving to the US and studying in college alone was exciting and daunting. I didn’t want to feel reduced to a single “rural” patch from my quilt, yet I wanted to experience new moments. I sought what was familiar, tried to connect with like-minded people, and found a challenge where I could apply my passion for technology to have an impact. That’s when I spearheaded a solar system for a learning center in a secluded area with no electricity. My memories of life in Barra do Chapéu helped me see the bigger picture—thinking about maintenance, accessibility, cost, and the daily realities of people who needed the solution. Today, I see a parallel as I explore the field of robotics. I’m stepping into uncharted territory, much like I did during the tick project. Back then, I leaned on biologists; now, I’m finding a new community of mentors and peers who share my interests. Last year, I took the initiative to found the Robotics Club— a place where I could teach about drones, robots, and new technologies. Through the club, I met people who have combined arts and music with robotics. With them, my biggest hope is to assist in developing technology and robots that can genuinely cooperate with humans in daily activities. Though I’m sometimes exploring these new places alone, I know I can always count on my family for support, just as they’ve supported every stitch of my journey.

“Done playing outside? Let me check you," my mother said, her nervous eyes scanning my bare legs. At age five, I didn’t understand Mom’s worries. It wasn’t until I became a young adult that I processed my mother’s fears. My friend posted a story: “In Salto, a young girl dies of the Brazilian Spotted Fever (BSF) caused by a tick.” As I read, I was alarmed by my ignorance—I had seen many ticks, but now I understood my mom’s mandatory checks. Soon after, my school set up a meeting with the Biological Institute of Sao Paulo (BISP) to explain the science and dangers of ticks. “If you don’t get the treatment within seven days, the mortality rate of BSF can reach 80%! Ticks don’t have eyes or ears, but the three principal sensors they use to determine what they chase are temperature, breathing, and movement," the biologist explained. My mind raced. Could we make a trap to attract ticks? How could we neutralize them? The idea seemed impossible. But I was curious. Within a day, I convinced my friends to help me create such a tool. Our professors contacted Shirley and Paulo, BISP’s biologists, who invited us to observe how they trap ticks with dry ice subliming into CO2 to mimic an animal’s breathing. We tucked our jeans inside our boots, sealed them with tape, and headed to Lake Park. That whole afternoon, I felt excited. I had gone from playing on my farm, blind to a problem, to becoming aware and exploring potential solutions. My first investigation focused on how to neutralize ticks. It couldn't be with pesticides or chemicals since they would harm plants and people. Then it hit me—I remembered running after mosquitoes on the farm with an electric fly swatter. Eureka! Let’s shock the ticks! I then started reverse-engineering an electric fly swatter to discuss if I could increase or decrease the output electricity to neutralize the ticks better. After months of sketching, experimenting, and plenty of trial and error, I designed “Papa Tick,” a stationary solar-powered tick trap that combined dry ice with an electrified grid with different sizes to select unique life stages of ticks. Other professors in our high school were curious about our work, and they helped me and my friends with all sorts of tasks: 3D CAD, circuit design, writing documentation, and filling out a patent application. I was so grateful we had such fantastic support. When I showed Papa Tick to my family, my mom was over the moon. Her pride shone brighter than I’d ever seen, but she also seemed worried – after all, I was working indirectly with ticks. She asked me if that was why I stayed more in school and worked more with random 3D-printed models scattered around my room. She told everyone in the family about my invention, and seeing her joy made all the tinkering feel even more worthwhile because it connected my passion for engineering and helping others. The experience of creating Papa Tick was a transformative one that impacted my technical skills and overall perspective of innovating. Through the process, I learned how to work effectively as part of a team, communicate with experts in a specific field, and apply my coding, tinkering, and design knowledge to solve real-world problems. I am eager to see what new challenges await that I can jump on to and grasp with childlike optimism, enthusiasm, and wonder. I’m never entirely done playing outside.