Whenever I’ve been asked about my plans for college, I’ve cursed myself knowing my enthusiastic response betrayed me: not only did I not want to go to college, I rebelled against the very premise of school. For years, I grudgingly conformed to what the curriculum expected me to learn, taming my curiosity as though it was bred in captivity. But by the end of middle school, one thing became apparent to me: schools suffocated my creativity by institutionalizing the innately human process of learning.
With my hopes hanging low, I stepped into my 9th grade classroom—indifferent. However, nothing could’ve prepared me for what I would experience in that first week alone. From the moment I was greeted, I became immersed in a community brimming with agency and joy. Straight away my teachers made it clear that we held ownership over our own learning—something I’d never thought I’d hear in a school—and that we decided how to challenge ourselves. Beyond fostering a culture where our ideas mattered, my teacher trusted us to steer our growth, giving me a glimpse into a possibility for school I couldn’t fathom before.
Our first project, Uncommon Message, centered around creating artworks that uplifted stories of underrepresented figures. After a particularly fruitful seminar on redlining in San Diego, I expressed my desire to explore similar topics at length, and promptly after, my Humanities teacher recommended I read Caste by Isabel Wilkerson—a gesture indicating his willingness to support each student where they’re at. That book not only sparked my interest in academic literature, it shaped my perspectives on the interplay between systems and justice, becoming a source of inspiration for what I hope to create within education.
Years later, standing in front of the teachers at a high school in Redwood City, my junior year internship was in its final stretch, culminating with a professional development I designed on the lasting impact of mentorship on students. When I first walked into the school, I saw a community fragmented by the effects of being overworked and understaffed: a reality that mirrors a startling number of public schools today. Teachers were spread thin, leaving little room to cultivate meaningful connections with their students, and despite my best efforts, no number of workshops would solve this disconnect overnight.
To transform the whole system, the underlying structures that govern how people work and interact had to change, and under my mentor’s guidance, I experienced a school from an administrator’s point of view, giving me a deeper understanding of the hidden, yet essential processes that sustain the organization. I witnessed digital inefficiencies that could become leverage with the right expertise or neglected opportunities that could benefit everyone, except no one had the capacity to pursue amidst the ceaseless momentum of the day-to-day burdens.
But what surprised me most was systemic change doesn’t require sweeping reforms or dismantling the old. I saw firsthand the ripple effects a single small adjustment could create. Despite being just an intern for a month, I noticed the lasting impressions I left on my mentor’s colleagues and the close partnerships that grew from the conversations we shared. If I could spark meaningful shifts as one intern, imagine what a community of dedicated change-makers could achieve—not just within one school but across countless schools.
I’ve come to realize that visions aren’t actualized alone. The power to transform education lies in the agency of others. Although in structure, college is no longer a limitation as I once saw it; instead, it’s the next step in forging connections with those who are equally committed to reshaping what schools can be. My fierce conviction to bring transformative learning to anyone has defined my journey thus far but I know it’s only the beginning. Aspirations thrive in creative cultures, and higher education, with its ability to unite young people with a shared purpose is where I believe my vision will truly flourish.