What Drew Me To EMERGE
I was having lunch with my new dormmates during my first week at Penn when I realized I might not belong there.
One was pre-med, casually mentioning her father the doctor. Another, with plans to go to law school, wore shoes that probably cost more than my monthly work-study earnings and talked about her parents' insurance firm having Tommy Hilfiger (yes, the 90s fashion brand) as a client. The guy across the hall shared stories about living in Mexico through middle school because his dad was a Verizon executive. Even the student I thought I'd connect with (another kid from New Jersey) was talking about his orthopedic surgeon father and interior designer mother from one of the wealthier suburbs.
And then there was me.
I sat there knowing I couldn't contribute to this conversation the same way. I couldn't casually mention that my mom did some bookkeeping for a bus company and never went to college. That I hadn't talked to my dad in years. That I was there on nearly a full ride, and had to work through college, because we didn't have much. That as a biracial student, I was navigating questions of belonging that went beyond just socioeconomics.
And in that moment, I felt small.
Learning to Navigate Two Worlds
What saved me at Penn wasn't a formal program. It was learning to listen and observe. I watched how other students built relationships with professors. I noticed how they started looking for internships in April. And I found community working with an after-school program where there were more kids who came from backgrounds like mine.
I developed comfort in being the one who listened first, who observed patterns, who figured out the unspoken rules of a world I was still learning to navigate.
By the time I got to Harvard, the socioeconomic and racial dynamics felt more familiar. But I faced a different kind of imposter syndrome: intellectual. Could I keep up? Did I have valuable things to contribute alongside classmates who seemed effortlessly brilliant?
I learned that the answer was yes, but only when I had the tools, support, and confidence to show up fully as myself.
Recognizing Myself in EMERGE Students
When I first learned about EMERGE's model, I immediately thought: "I needed this."
Yes, the college prep. But I also needed someone to help me understand how to navigate spaces where I'd be one of the only students from my background. I needed frameworks for building relationships with professors who came from different worlds. I needed to see examples of people with experiences like mine thriving in environments where I felt uncertain about belonging.
Most importantly, I needed someone to believe in my potential before I fully believed in it myself.
That's what EMERGE provides. That's what drew me here.
The Urgency of This Moment
But there's another reason I couldn't ignore this opportunity: the moment we're living through.
We're in a moment when support for programs that develop underestimated talent is increasingly questioned. Whether through policy changes or cultural shifts, the message to students from backgrounds like mine can feel unclear: do their perspectives and potential matter?
I believe the answer is absolutely yes. I believe that more opportunities for some doesn't mean fewer opportunities for others. I believe we all do better when we have people at the table with a range of experiences and perspectives. I believe there are too many brilliant students who simply don't have access to the tools, networks, and support they need to thrive.
The question isn't whether these students deserve a chance. The question is whether we'll build the infrastructure to give it to them.
This makes EMERGE's work not just important. It makes it essential.
Why This Matters to Me
I came to EMERGE because I see myself in every student who walks through these doors. I understand what it feels like to question whether you belong, to navigate spaces where your background makes you different, to need someone to believe in your potential before you can fully believe in it yourself.
But I also came because I understand what's at stake if we don't get this right. The debates about programs that serve underestimated students aren't abstract policy discussions. They're about whether students like I was will have the support they need to succeed.
We can't let that happen.
What if every student who sits in a lunch conversation feeling small had access to the kind of support EMERGE provides? What if they had mentors who understood their journey, frameworks for navigating unfamiliar spaces, and a community that believed in their potential?
This isn't just a hypothetical for me. That student from nearly 20 years ago who felt small at a Penn lunch table is now the CEO of EMERGE because people believed in possibilities I couldn't yet see for myself.
Now it's our turn to create those possibilities for the next generation.
In Houston. And everywhere else they're needed.
Every student deserves what I eventually found: people who believe in their potential and give them the tools to realize it. That's what we do here. That's what we're building for the future.