I grew up in London, where some afternoons after school my mom and I would race down the escalator to the Marks & Spencer food hall, naming as many foods as we could from the wall displays before we reached the bottom. Whoever named the most took the basket. I always took the basket.
The food hall was my very own museum, every label a small geography lesson, every section its own installation, arranged with a logic that felt like respect for the food, for where it came from, and for the person deciding whether to buy it. When my family moved to Florida, I stood in a Publix aisle staring at a single shelf marked "International Foods" and understood something I couldn't yet name: that flattening is a choice, and it has consequences.
That instinct, that specificity earns respect, has driven everything since. I write about how AI is reshaping the lives of teenagers: what these systems do to us, what they do without us, and who's missing from the rooms where they're built. I study how bias shows up in what my generation scrolls past every day, and how well machines can catch it. I build programs that refuse to leave girls in Tamil Nadu on someone else's shelf.
I am a senior at Riverview High School in Sarasota, Florida, pursuing the International Baccalaureate Diploma. I intend to study cognitive science: the psychology of how people think, applied to the systems being built to shape how we think. I expect that work to lead toward law and policy, where the questions I care about get decided.
