Hasty technological advancement is one of our world’s greatest perpetuators of environmental damage. We’ve outgrown natural selection, so we exploit nature to meet our own ends. We mine for metallic nodules at the bottom of our ocean floor, stripping an ecosystem of its biodiversity before we’ve even understood it. Society must relearn to harmonize with nature, balancing innovation with sustainability. When I was 15, I found my piece of this environmentalist puzzle: a string of Birdboxes around a lake. With climate change, birds known as cavity-nesters were declining in population; yet, manual Birdbox monitoring, their primary research method, was a dying craft. So, when a city official called for high schoolers to work on motion-tracking technology in our lake’s Birdboxes, I beamed — this was a chance to revitalize an industry. In the past year, my nonprofit, Eco Innovate, has implemented 15+ Birdboxes in parks and schools, fostering conservation engagement through leading 60+ hours of education workshops for younger students. With environmental degradation being such a formidable threat to the health of entire ecosystems, it’s integral that we take an involved approach to environmental restoration, harnessing technology to mend rather than detriment the natural world. Eco Innovate is proof that grassroots, individually-led innovation is of the utmost importance for global sustainability moving forward. Crucially, Eco Innovate offers all Birdboxes free of charge to heighten our commitment to climate-tech accessibility. If climate change mitigation is enacted unequally, or not at all, we perpetuate the disparity in environmental justice; regions that are least able to cope with climate change will be the most affected by its dire ripple effects. By fostering social impact organizations and engineering systems to benefit our natural world, society takes the first research-oriented step into a future of everlasting sustainability. Having just committed to Stanford University, I’m excited to pursue environmentalism and engineering in tandem. Harnessing my embedded systems experience from Eco Innovate, I’ll pioneer energy science and sustainability development through guided research. Through my collaborative leadership, I’ll uplift marginalized peers to have a voice in STEM fields, enhancing systems engineering and our state’s youth workforce. Building on clean energy technology, I’m also interested in immersing myself into management, material sciences, and chemical engineering. In doing so, I’ll unveil the foundation of the technology for tomorrow. Long-term, I aspire to use an interdisciplinary approach to counter the advent of climate change. Beyond my education at funded research labs and world-renowned lecture halls, I’ll continue to devote myself to the community directly, painting public-facing nature murals and performing flute in chamber benefit concerts.

The greatest paradox I’ve ever encountered is comprised of the same element we breathe. My AP Environmental Science teacher, Ms. Lee, introduced me to ozone, a molecule created from oxygen, with two distinctly different faces. One side paints stratospheric ozone as a savior. The molecule allowed life to survive on land; before its formation, organisms could only thrive under the ocean's protective barrier, sheltered from harmful UV radiation. However, ozone has sinister consequences closer to ground-level. I recalled my childhood trips to India, complaining to my grandparents about the smog and air pollution around us; my resentment could be traced back to tropospheric ozone chemistry. Upon joining my school’s Women in Satellite Engineering Initiative (WiSE) as Program Director, I took charge of outreach, funding, and engineering management for the only high school all-girls CubeSat team in the nation. While brainstorming mission ideas for our BalloonSat project, a payload with sensors attached to a high-altitude balloon, the paradox resurfaced. Upon researching further, I learned that humans alter ozone formation with industrial pollutant emissions. I fell in love when the molecule meant more than a paradox; ozone represented the duality between the natural world and anthropogenic degradation, with catastrophic consequences for human health. I applied the theoretical knowledge from APES through real-world impact, inspired to pursue ozone research from the influence of just one teacher. Vertically profiling ozone and UV levels, after all, was rare; if we pursued it, WiSE could inform environmental policy. My team agreed to pursue my proposed research question immediately. I recently had the privilege of presenting our research plans at the International SmallSat Conference, guiding the second high-school team in history to share its stage with industry professionals; our exuberance was met with resounding applause. We’re currently planning for our high-altitude BalloonSat launch this March in Southern California, developing UV sensor integration and experimenting with data transmission at stratospheric altitudes. WiSE has given my intellectual fixations the privilege of soaring amongst the clouds; atmospheric chemistry is now the foundation for a mission that guides 40+ high school girls in systems engineering. In retrospect, I realize the profound ripple effect Ms. Lee has had on my initiative, beyond just the class she leads. Without her passion for environmentalism and sustainable change reflecting on my leadership, it’s possible we would have pursued a different research focus entirely. At International Conferences, I would be speaking of atmospheric variables I had no personal connection with, mere statistics on a research paper. I’m left more grateful for my AP Environmental Science class, therefore, than even the paradox of ozone itself. From the atmospheric chemistry worksheets we completed to Ms. Lee’s engaging lectures, I’ve reframed my entire attitude towards understanding the unknown. Moving forward, as I pursue Environmental Science in tandem with Engineering, I’ll never lose sight of the way APES has reframed my academic and personal philosophy. Ms. Lee embodied the spirit that all teachers should, for she helped us understand the natural world beyond its social narrative. Instead of a mere problem to be tackled, her teaching has allowed me to see the environment in its full complexity, as a system to be gradually understood. Our atmosphere is not a resource in pure detriment, but rather a system we’ve set out of balance, begging for revitalization.

Hasty technological advancement is one of our world’s greatest perpetuators of environmental damage. We’ve outgrown natural selection, so we exploit nature to meet our own ends. We mine for metallic nodules at the bottom of our ocean floor, stripping an ecosystem of its biodiversity before we’ve even understood it. Society must relearn to harmonize with nature, balancing innovation with sustainability. When I was 15, I found my piece of this environmentalist puzzle: a string of Birdboxes around a lake. With climate change, birds known as cavity-nesters were declining in population; yet, manual Birdbox monitoring, their primary research method, was a dying craft. So, when a city official called for high schoolers to work on motion-tracking technology in our lake’s Birdboxes, I beamed — this was a chance to revitalize an industry. In the past year, my nonprofit, Eco Innovate, has implemented 15+ Birdboxes in parks and schools, fostering conservation engagement through leading 60+ hours of education workshops for younger students. With environmental degradation being such a formidable threat to the health of entire ecosystems, it’s integral that we take an involved approach to environmental restoration, harnessing technology to mend rather than detriment the natural world. Eco Innovate is proof that grassroots, individually-led innovation is of the utmost importance for global sustainability moving forward. Crucially, Eco Innovate offers all Birdboxes free of charge to heighten our commitment to climate-tech accessibility. If climate change mitigation is enacted unequally, or not at all, we perpetuate the disparity in environmental justice; regions that are least able to cope with climate change will be the most affected by its dire ripple effects. By fostering social impact organizations and engineering systems to benefit our natural world, society takes the first research-oriented step into a future of everlasting sustainability.

Facing my friends who played violin, viola, and cello, I was told one phrase at the start of rehearsal: “Pooja, you have to cue us.”I froze under the pressure. To cue was to guide other musicians with an instrument, similar to a conductor with a baton. The first time I attempted to cue, our teacher stopped us immediately. I had set off a cascade: we all started at slightly different times, making our rhythm offset from each other. The violinist was playing a C natural a beat ahead, while our cellist was a beat behind and bowing an F sharp. Unintentionally, I introduced dissonance: musical clashes in harmony. As I sat in those weekly sessions, my teacher modeled patiently what a good cue looked like. And somehow, I picked it up; my nerves faded as I learned to use natural, sweeping motions with my flute. As a principal flautist in youth orchestra, wind ensemble, and marching band, it's my responsibility to get entire sections of musicians on the same page, a far more ambitious task than signaling to just three other players. With a strong foundation, I learned to cue the shy young flautist who didn’t understand how to count a certain rhythm, to clap the beats during marching band sectionals so our forty peers would avoid rushing their notes. Leadership in the classical music world is often overlooked, but just the act of “being together” in a piece is a fleeting goal that requires crystal clear execution. Interdisciplinary leadership is what has kept me tethered irreversibly to music; creativity and direction merges in a way that feels effortlessly resonant. Moving forward, not only would I love to explore the fundamentals in music theory and physics that explain harmony itself, but I’m eager to immerse myself in the performances of professional instrumentalists. By studying the minute ways in which they express themselves, just as I did with my flute teacher, I have no doubt I'll be able to learn skills as valuable as cueing. Through expanding my repertoire as a flautist, I’ll delve more into the art of performance itself; combined with the practices I glean from others, my individual creativity will flourish. But more than even developing myself, I hope to one day be a source of inspiration for future students. Just as my flute teacher had a profound influence on my own cueing and performance ability, I aspire to one day serve as a role model for budding flautists. Through a part-time teaching career, I’ll begin a small flute ensemble and mentor young musicians. In supplement to individual tone quality and rhythmic training, each student will be responsible for something greater than just themselves. With each guiding downbeat, they’ll foster a natural intuition and drive for leadership. Nowhere is this philosophy of ensemble cohesion more evident than jazz music. The first time I played jazz, I saw it as so much more than so-called elevator music, a mere set of pleasing melodies. The score in front of me, rather, was a tonal challenge to be tackled. A glimmering arrangement of Porgy and Bess’ “Summertime” could be unlocked by my quartet through endless rehearsals. With each chord change, each rubato phrase or swung rhythm, we had to pay utmost attention to the gestures and musical sentences of each other. In the dynamic game of call-and-response that is jazz, cueing and uplifting leadership is put to the utmost test. In future, I hope to elevate my jazz skills so I can truly instruct my future students in ensemble guidance and harmony.

The greatest paradox I’ve ever encountered is comprised of the same element we breathe. My AP Environmental Science class introduced me to ozone, a molecule created from oxygen, with two distinctly different faces. One side paints stratospheric ozone as a savior. The molecule allowed life to survive on land; before its formation, organisms could only thrive under the ocean's protective barrier, sheltered from harmful UV radiation. However, ozone has sinister consequences closer to ground-level. I recalled my childhood trips to India, complaining to my grandparents about the smog and air pollution around us; my resentment could be traced back to tropospheric ozone chemistry. Upon joining my school’s Women in Satellite Engineering Initiative (WiSE) as Program Director, I took charge of outreach, funding, and engineering management for the only high school all-girls CubeSat team in the nation. While brainstorming mission ideas for our BalloonSat project, a payload with sensors attached to a high-altitude balloon, the paradox resurfaced. Upon researching further, I learned that humans alter ozone formation with industrial pollutant emissions. I fell in love when the molecule meant more than a paradox; ozone represented the duality between the natural world and anthropogenic degradation, with catastrophic consequences for human health. Vertically profiling ozone and UV levels was rare; if we pursued it, WiSE could inform environmental policy. My team agreed to pursue my proposed research question immediately. I recently had the privilege of presenting our research plans at the Utah International Smallsat Conference, guiding the second high-school team in history to share its stage with industry professionals; our exuberance was met with resounding applause. We’re currently planning for our high-altitude BalloonSat launch this January in Southern California, developing UV sensor integration and experimenting with data transmission at stratospheric altitudes. WiSE has given my intellectual fixations the privilege of soaring amongst the clouds; atmospheric chemistry is now the foundation for a mission that guides 40+ high school girls in systems engineering. I’m left forever grateful for ozone’s paradox; the molecule has allowed my ancestry and research to intersect, culminating in my unwavering passion for Environmental Science. It has inspired me to unveil the scientific foundations of my childhood cultural memories from India through atmospheric profiling, in hopes that I’ll be able to revitalize our atmosphere at large. As an Asian woman of color representing only 3% of Engineers in the Environmental space, I’m endlessly excited to pursue a degree in STEM, using this scholarship money to empower other BIPOC students like me to explore their scientific curiosities. With access to atmospheric chemistry coursework and remote sensing technology, I’ll be able to translate environmental data into policy-driven legislation. In parallel with technical innovation, I’ll also harness this scholarship to promote inclusive empowerment in STEM fields, forging accessible makerspaces and funded research opportunities at Stanford. Having just committed to Stanford University, I have faith that I’ll lead a meaningful college experience if I’m provided the monetary support to thrive, inspiring marginalized students to plunge into paradoxes of their own and pave the way to a brighter future for our natural world.

The greatest paradox I’ve ever encountered is comprised of the same element we breathe. My AP Environmental Science class introduced me to ozone, a molecule created from oxygen, with two distinctly different faces. One side paints stratospheric ozone as a savior. The molecule allowed life to survive on land; before its formation, organisms could only thrive under the ocean's protective barrier, sheltered from harmful UV radiation. However, ozone has sinister consequences closer to ground-level. I recalled my childhood trips to India, complaining to my grandparents about the smog and air pollution around us; my resentment could be traced back to tropospheric ozone chemistry. Upon joining my school’s Women in Satellite Engineering Initiative (WiSE) as Program Director, I took charge of outreach, funding, and engineering management for the only high school all-girls CubeSat team in the nation. While brainstorming mission ideas for our BalloonSat project, a payload with sensors attached to a high-altitude balloon, the paradox resurfaced. Upon researching further, I learned that humans alter ozone formation with industrial pollutant emissions. I fell in love when the molecule meant more than a paradox; ozone represented the duality between the natural world and anthropogenic degradation, with catastrophic consequences for human health. Vertically profiling ozone and UV levels was rare; if we pursued it, WiSE could inform environmental policy. My team agreed to pursue my proposed research question immediately. I recently had the privilege of presenting our research plans at the Utah International Smallsat Conference, guiding the second high-school team in history to share its stage with industry professionals; our exuberance was met with resounding applause. We’re currently planning for our high-altitude BalloonSat launch this January in Southern California, developing UV sensor integration and experimenting with data transmission at stratospheric altitudes. WiSE has given my intellectual fixations the privilege of soaring amongst the clouds; atmospheric chemistry is now the foundation for a mission that guides 40+ high school girls in systems engineering. I’m left forever grateful for ozone’s paradox; the molecule has allowed my ancestry and research to intersect, culminating in my unwavering passion for Environmental Science. Literature like “Braiding Sweetgrass” by Robin Wall Kimmerer and “Speed and Scale” by John Doerr has exposed me to the spiritual and economic severity of Climate Change. They’ve inspired me to unveil the scientific foundations of my childhood cultural memories from India through atmospheric profiling, in hopes that I’ll be able to revitalize our atmosphere at large. As an Asian woman of color representing only 3% of Environmental Scientists, I’m endlessly excited to pursue a degree in STEM, using this scholarship money to empower other BIPOC students like me to explore their scientific curiosities. With access to atmospheric chemistry coursework and remote sensing technology, I’ll be able to translate environmental data into policy-driven legislation. In parallel with technical innovation, I’ll also harness this scholarship to promote inclusive empowerment in STEM fields, forging accessible makerspaces and funded research opportunities. Having just committed to Stanford University, I have faith that I’ll lead a meaningful college experience if I’m provided the monetary support to thrive, inspiring marginalized students to plunge into paradoxes of their own and pave the way to a brighter future for our natural world.

The greatest paradox I’ve ever encountered is comprised of the same element we breathe. My AP Environmental Science class introduced me to ozone, a molecule created from oxygen, with two distinctly different faces. One side paints stratospheric ozone as a savior. The molecule allowed life to survive on land; before its formation, organisms could only thrive under the ocean's protective barrier, sheltered from harmful UV radiation. However, ozone has sinister consequences closer to ground-level. I recalled my childhood trips to India, complaining to my grandparents about the smog and air pollution around us; my resentment could be traced back to tropospheric ozone chemistry. Upon joining my school’s Women in Satellite Engineering Initiative (WiSE) as Program Director, I took charge of outreach, funding, and engineering management for the only high school all-girls CubeSat team in the nation. While brainstorming mission ideas for our BalloonSat project, a payload with sensors attached to a high-altitude balloon, the paradox resurfaced. Upon researching further, I learned that humans alter ozone formation with industrial pollutant emissions. I fell in love when the molecule meant more than a paradox; ozone represented the duality between the natural world and anthropogenic degradation, with catastrophic consequences for human health. Vertically profiling ozone and UV levels was rare; if we pursued it, WiSE could inform environmental policy. My team agreed to pursue my proposed research question immediately. I recently had the privilege of presenting our research plans at the International Smallsat Conference, guiding the second high-school team in history to share its stage with industry professionals; our exuberance was met with resounding applause. We’re currently planning for our high-altitude BalloonSat launch this January in Southern California, developing UV sensor integration and experimenting with data transmission at stratospheric altitudes. WiSE has given my intellectual fixations the privilege of soaring amongst the clouds; atmospheric chemistry is now the foundation for a mission that guides 40+ high school girls in systems engineering. I’m left forever grateful for ozone’s paradox; the molecule has allowed my ancestry and research to intersect, culminating in my unwavering passion for Environmental Science. Each day, I unveil the scientific foundations of my childhood cultural memories from India through atmospheric profiling. As an Asian woman of color representing only 3% of Environmental Scientists, I’m endlessly excited to pursue a degree in STEM to empower other BIPOC students like me to explore their scientific curiosities. I aim to angle WiSE towards this cultural empowerment moving forward, promoting inclusivity beyond gender disparity. Having just committed to Stanford University, I’ll harness my product management and environmental engineering background to forge new, interdisciplinary initiatives for cultural inclusivity; given the space to thrive, I have faith that I’ll inspire other students of color to plunge into paradoxes of their own.

The greatest paradox I’ve ever encountered is comprised of the same element we breathe. My AP Environmental Science class introduced me to ozone, a molecule created from oxygen, with two distinctly different faces. One side paints stratospheric ozone as a savior. The molecule allowed life to survive on land; before its formation, organisms could only thrive under the ocean's protective barrier, sheltered from harmful UV radiation. However, ozone has sinister consequences closer to ground-level. I recalled my childhood trips to India, complaining to my grandparents about the smog and air pollution around us; my resentment could be traced back to tropospheric ozone chemistry. Upon joining my school’s Women in Satellite Engineering Initiative (WiSE) as Program Director, I took charge of outreach, funding, and engineering management for the only high school all-girls CubeSat team in the nation. While brainstorming mission ideas for our BalloonSat project, a payload with sensors attached to a high-altitude balloon, the paradox resurfaced. Upon researching further, I learned that humans alter ozone formation with industrial pollutant emissions. I fell in love when the molecule meant more than a paradox; ozone represented the duality between the natural world and anthropogenic degradation, with catastrophic consequences for human health. Vertically profiling ozone and UV levels was rare; if we pursued it, WiSE could inform environmental policy. My team agreed to pursue my proposed research question immediately. I recently had the privilege of presenting our research plans at the International Smallsat Conference, guiding the second high-school team in history to share its stage with industry professionals; our exuberance was met with resounding applause. We’re currently planning for our high-altitude BalloonSat launch this January in Southern California, developing UV sensor integration and experimenting with data transmission at stratospheric altitudes. WiSE has given my intellectual fixations the privilege of soaring amongst the clouds; atmospheric chemistry is now the foundation for a mission that guides 40+ high school girls in systems engineering. I’m left forever grateful for ozone’s paradox; the molecule has allowed my ancestry and research to intersect, culminating in my unwavering passion for Environmental Science. Each day, I unveil the scientific foundations of my childhood cultural memories from India through atmospheric profiling. As an Asian woman, I’m endlessly excited to pursue a degree in STEM to empower other students like me to explore their scientific curiosities. I aim to angle WiSE towards cultural empowerment moving forward, promoting inclusivity even beyond gender disparity. Having just committed to Stanford University, I’ll harness my product management and environmental engineering background to forge new, interdisciplinary initiatives for cultural inclusivity; given the space to thrive, I have faith that I’ll inspire other women to plunge into paradoxes of their own.

Facing my friends who played violin, viola, and cello, I was told one phrase at the start of rehearsal: “Pooja, you have to cue us.” I froze under the burden of responsibility. To cue was to guide other musicians with my flute, similar to a conductor with a baton. Not surprisingly, the first time I unconfidently attempted to cue, our teacher stopped the quartet immediately. I had set off a cascade: we all started at different times, making our rhythm painfully offset from each other. At the start of Mozart’s Quartet, the violinist was playing a C natural a beat ahead, while our cellist was a beat behind and bowing a discordant F sharp. As I sat in that chamber rehearsal week after week, my teacher continued to demonstrate what a good cue looked like. And somehow, I picked it up; my apprehensions faded as I mimicked her flute’s downward sweeping motions. When we performed our Mozart for a local competition, that practice came to fruition. Rather than dissonance, I heard resonating cohesion — a major chord instead of a tritone. The fulfillment of uplifting my peers grew addicting. It began to feel like leading musically wasn’t enough; my creativity extended beyond symphonies. Last winter, I cold-emailed student painters to start a network of environmental muralists blending public art with activism. Just as cueing requires a swift, unhesitating downbeat, I pounced on the chance to fill a gap in my community. I had to provide a collaborative framework for youth artists. It took months of planning to craft our first oceanic design. I treated the composition like Mozart’s quartet piece, each designer’s brushstroke harmonizing with the rest. By the spring, Brushstrokes for the Bay was born, a nonprofit elevating 40+ high schoolers towards artistic climate advocacy. We’ve collaborated with local gardens and governments to paint over four original murals, our subject matter ranging from pollinator species to cultural landscapes. Music, during my high school life, has been my throughline between ideation and action. It’s given me more than just an outlet for my creativity; my flute has allowed me to explore my leadership passions in a way that no other activity could. Having just committed to Stanford University, I’m excited to continue pursuing music through symphonies and orchestras alike, using those guiding cues to build systems for sustainability in parallel. When I draft ambitious plans for my environmental advocacy now, I almost don’t recognize myself; for so long, I had never even tried to unite like-minded youth. At least, not until my first quartet rehearsal.

The greatest paradox I’ve ever encountered is comprised of the same element we breathe. My AP Environmental Science class introduced me to ozone, a molecule created from oxygen, with two distinctly different faces. One side paints stratospheric ozone as a savior. The molecule allowed life to survive on land; before its formation, organisms could only thrive under the ocean's protective barrier, sheltered from harmful UV radiation. However, ozone has sinister consequences closer to ground-level. I recalled my childhood trips to India, complaining to my grandparents about the smog and air pollution around us; my resentment could be traced back to tropospheric ozone chemistry. Upon joining my school’s Women in Satellite Engineering Initiative (WiSE) as Program Director, I took charge of outreach, funding, and engineering management for the only high school all-girls CubeSat team in the nation. While brainstorming mission ideas for our BalloonSat project, a payload with sensors attached to a high-altitude balloon, the paradox resurfaced. Upon researching further, I learned that humans alter ozone formation with industrial pollutant emissions. I fell in love when the molecule meant more than a paradox; ozone represented the duality between the natural world and anthropogenic degradation, with catastrophic consequences for human health. Vertically profiling ozone and UV levels was rare; if we pursued it, WiSE could inform environmental policy. My team agreed to pursue my proposed research question immediately. I recently had the privilege of presenting our research plans at the International Smallsat Conference, guiding the second high-school team in history to share its stage with industry professionals; our exuberance was met with resounding applause. We’re currently planning for our high-altitude BalloonSat launch this January in Southern California, developing UV sensor integration and experimenting with data transmission at stratospheric altitudes. WiSE has given my intellectual fixations the privilege of soaring amongst the clouds; atmospheric chemistry is now the foundation for a mission that guides 40+ high school girls in systems engineering. I’m left forever grateful for ozone’s paradox; however much we study this molecule, there’s still mystery in the air for me to uncover in college. Having just committed to Stanford University, I’m endlessly excited to pursue Environmental Science and further unveil the chemical foundations of climate change. Through WiSE, I’ve just scratched the surface of ozone and its role in our atmosphere; with the resources and space for my vision to thrive, I’ll be able to scale my initiatives and revitalize our global climate at large. Each day, I urge my family and friends to pay more heed to the carbon-rich pollution they release into our air. Studying our atmosphere has made me hyper-aware of the slew of pollutants we willingly subject ourselves to breathe. Not only are they threats to organismal health, but they are also perpetuators of climate change. Specifically, tailpipe emissions from gas vehicles and even methane produced from the anaerobic decomposition of food waste in landfills can be unimaginably harmful to our natural world. Starting small, by biking on the commute to work or even starting a simple home compost system, can reduce carbon footprints and pave the way for a future of lasting sustainability.

Having just committed to Stanford University, I plan to study Environmental Science in tandem with Management Science & Engineering. As part of the Bay Area youth climate community, in one of the nation’s leading regions in disruptive innovation for the energy sector, I’ve fostered my own interdisciplinary, creative approach to environmental challenges, including autonomously-monitored Birdboxes and ozone-monitoring satellites. With passion rooted from conferences and nonprofit collaborations, I’ve been inspired to become a youth climate-tech and arts founder myself. Given my background in leading teams to engineer environmental solutions, I aim to educate myself with a rigorous scientific foundation alongside a strong management backbone. I’ve planned an entrepreneurial career to create an enviro-tech business of my own because our deteriorating climate needs novel technological solutions in order to thrive once more. In order to bridge the gap between policy and action, I aspire to become a founder who’s brave enough to stretch the boundaries of current energy sources and biodiversity research devices. Being an entrepreneur in this space would transcend raw engineering; it would give my climate work tangible impact, rather than just scientific merit. Through Eco Innovate and Brushstrokes for the Bay, my two environmental nonprofits working to create environmental research systems and public advocacy murals, respectively, I’m merging my creativity with business instincts to make a difference for my local community. In college, with a broader stage for my ideas to thrive, I’ll be able to scale my visions and revitalize our environment at large. Business success, in my eyes, resides in the simple idea that leadership is not about one’s self. Serving as an anchor for a team is not akin to bathing in the spotlight; it’s about spreading knowledge as much as possible. In each team I lead, I meticulously proliferate my learnings to future leaders and give my peers every chance to shine. As a business leader, my work will be reflected by the performance of my team, not myself; therefore, it’s only natural for me to want to uplift, rather than silence, colleagues. With my graduation looming, for instance, I poured hours into a document for the future co-leads of Eco Innovate: “succession.” It contains pages upon pages of anecdotes, leadership tips, and affirmations to ensure avian environmental advocacy is a mission that outlives me. The human ego is often all-consuming. At the root of business failure is often selfish greed. Whether through over-investment or a lack of employee satisfaction, corporate leaders can be simply cold. I envision that a successful life for myself will involve founding a business that promotes the opposite: undying, shared warmth. With a team that genuinely cares about the future of our planet, I know I’ll be able to nurture my company’s creativity and intellect rather than drown it out with my own. The success of the collective, in other words, will serve as eternal fuel for my personal satisfaction and motivate me to continue mending nature. If I can say that I’ve even led one employee, student, or customer to foster an appreciation for our natural world, discovering a love for conservation in the same way I did, I’ll be content.

The greatest paradox I’ve ever encountered is comprised of the same element we breathe. My AP Environmental Science class introduced me to ozone, a molecule created from oxygen, with two distinctly different faces. One side paints stratospheric ozone as a savior. The molecule allowed life to survive on land; before its formation, organisms could only thrive under the ocean's protective barrier, sheltered from harmful UV radiation. However, ozone has sinister consequences closer to ground-level. I recalled my childhood trips to India, complaining to my grandparents about the smog and air pollution around us; my resentment could be traced back to tropospheric ozone chemistry. Upon joining my school’s Women in Satellite Engineering Initiative (WiSE) as Program Director, I took charge of outreach, funding, and engineering management for the only high school all-girls CubeSat team in the nation. While brainstorming mission ideas for our BalloonSat project, a payload with sensors attached to a high-altitude balloon, the paradox resurfaced. Upon researching further, I learned that humans alter ozone formation with industrial pollutant emissions. I fell in love when the molecule meant more than a paradox; ozone represented the duality between the natural world and anthropogenic degradation, with catastrophic consequences for human health. Vertically profiling ozone and UV levels was rare; if we pursued it, WiSE could inform environmental policy. My team agreed to pursue my proposed research question immediately. I recently had the privilege of presenting our research plans at the International Smallsat Conference, guiding the second high-school team in history to share its stage with industry professionals; our exuberance was met with resounding applause. We’re currently planning for our high-altitude BalloonSat launch this January in Southern California, developing UV sensor integration and experimenting with data transmission at stratospheric altitudes. WiSE has given my intellectual fixations the privilege of soaring amongst the clouds; atmospheric chemistry is now the foundation for a mission that guides 40+ high school girls in systems engineering. I’m left forever grateful for ozone’s paradox; the molecule has allowed my ancestry and research to intersect, culminating in my unwavering passion for Environmental Science. Each day, I unveil the scientific foundations of my childhood cultural memories from India through atmospheric profiling. As an Asian woman of color, I’m endlessly excited to pursue a degree in STEM to empower other BIPOC students like me to explore their scientific curiosities. I aim to angle WiSE towards this cultural empowerment moving forward, promoting inclusivity beyond gender disparity. Having just committed to Stanford University, I’ll harness my product management and environmental engineering background to forge new, interdisciplinary initiatives for cultural inclusivity; given the space to thrive, I have faith that I’ll inspire other students of color to plunge into paradoxes of their own.

When I was 15, I found my greatest muse: a string of Birdboxes around a lake. With climate change, birds known as cavity-nesters were declining in population; yet, manual Birdbox monitoring, their primary research method, was a dying craft. So, when a city official called for high schoolers to work on motion-tracking technology in our lake’s Birdboxes, I beamed — this was a chance to revitalize an industry. I soon gathered a small team and pioneered our first prototype: a solar-powered Raspberry Pi microprocessor would connect to an infrared camera and photograph the inside of a Birdbox every 3 minutes. Then, it would send the data to an accessible public photo album. We had gone far beyond mere motion-tracking, and our vision soon grew too ambitious for that lake; if we wanted to discern ecological trends, we needed greater sample sizes and independence. Motivated, I made the bold decision to found a nonprofit aimed at merging the youth voice, technology, and sustainability: Eco Innovate. But despite our dedication, we lacked the material resources to execute our vision. So, I led us to seek support from our Bay Area community. When traditional grants to purchase microprocessors and keyboards fell short, I pivoted to grassroots support and crowdfunded over $8,000. We reached out to the California Bluebird Recovery Program to provide Birdbox kits for our hardware prototypes, rather than scrounging Home Depot for scrap wood. This support allowed us to implement our products in 15+ local parks and schools, fostering conservation engagement. I’ve never lost sight of the support that our friends, family, and partner organizations extended to grow my fledgling initiative. Every season, we teach about ecosystem disruption, organize Birdbox construction workshops, and host national Raspberry Pi coding camps. When I see the kids—a shy boy wiring his first LED circuit, best friends painting cartoon flowers on a Birdbox—it’s all worth it. As I watch them fall in love with environmental technology the same way I did years ago, observing Birdboxes around a lake, my hope blossoms. Having just committed to Stanford University, I’m eager to continue embodying the spirit of a Chi Changemaker. I plan to globally scale my Birdbox initiative through remote shipping and standardize our environmental curricula nationwide. The more that Eco Innovate grows, the more opportunities I'll have to inspire the next generation of climate advocates: a cause to outlive me.