1. To maintain a connection to my Polish heritage, my family saved up for a trip to Poland, where we explored the historical and cultural roots of our ancestry. With lineage on both sides of my family tracing back to Poland, we visited museums that highlighted the country’s political and artistic evolution, as well as neighborhoods that offered insight into daily life. The most profound part of the journey was visiting sites like the Krakow Jewish Ghetto and Auschwitz-Birkenau, where I confronted the harsh realities that my Jewish ancestors endured. This experience deepened my commitment to preserving our history. Since this trip, I’ve continued researching our genealogy to pinpoint the origins of my Polish relatives. I’ve also connected with others who share similar roots, helping me to keep my heritage alive in my personal life. 2. Working at sea with thirty people on a 130-foot vessel, and on a wind-battered island with just five others, I have been part of tightly knit, purpose-driven communities that have shaped me personally and professionally. These environments, however, still carry the legacy of male domination. Within my career, I seek to make these places and communities more welcoming to historically underrepresented groups, especially women and LGBTQ+ individuals, helping them to break into and thrive within field environments. In isolated settings like research vessels and field stations, inclusive, supportive communities are essential. In these environments, I take on leadership roles in community building and the development of community standards. I am an advocate for respectful dialogue: when a crew member used a transphobic slur, I addressed it directly and worked with leadership to change the language culture on board. My advocacy extends beyond these expeditions: I am working to implement field safety and inclusivity trainings at my university through Field Futures, a program that equips scientists with tools to prevent harassment in field settings. I hope to contribute to their mission of breaking down barriers to participation and creating safer, more equitable environments in field science. 3. A core memory from high school that shaped my identity was restarting our school’s Gay-Straight Alliance at a time when LGBTQ+ representation was nearly nonexistent in the curriculum and student life. Diversity was rarely acknowledged, and support was limited, as our group had no funding. With a goal of increasing representation, I used my artistic skills to design and sell t-shirts, raising money to purchase books for our school library that featured LGBTQ+ voices and experiences. Through this effort, I met peers with experiences like my own, and created a space where we felt seen and supported. It was my first experience building a community from the ground up, using the tools and talents I had. That early initiative taught me the power of creativity, resourcefulness, and representation, and sparked a lifelong commitment to making marginalized voices heard and valued. 4. As both an artist and an individual deeply committed to women’s rights, I would choose to have dinner with Artemisia Gentileschi, the pioneering Italian Baroque painter. At a time when women had little voice or agency, she not only painted powerful, autonomous female figures, but also defied societal expectations in her own life, most notably by taking a perpetrator of sexual violence to court. Her courage and artistic vision were far ahead of her time. I would ask her how her personal experiences shaped the way she selected and portrayed her female subjects, and whether she saw her art as a form of resistance in a male-dominated world. The insight of this trailbrazer would illuminate a pivotal moment in the ongoing fight for gender equity.