A fork in the road
A Journey from Code to Culture
Technology captivated me from my earliest memories. While other kids played outside, I lived in digital worlds, forging friendships through screens and learning the intricate languages of computers. My online community became my sanctuary—though I’ll admit we occasionally pushed boundaries in ways that, looking back, could have led to serious trouble. I was fortunate to escape any lasting consequences from our digital adventures.
For years, I operated under a fundamental misconception: that technical prowess was the ultimate currency of success. I dismissed the humanities—literature, philosophy, history—as antiquated relics with little practical value. This was particularly ironic given that standardized tests and academic assessments consistently revealed these “soft” subjects as my greatest natural strengths. Yet I stubbornly clung to my belief that only code and algorithms mattered in the modern world.
Everything changed this past year. Personal trauma has a way of stripping away illusions and forcing you to confront fundamental questions about meaning, purpose, and what truly sustains us as human beings. In my darkest moments, I discovered that technical skills—however sophisticated—offered little comfort or guidance. It was the great works of literature, the wisdom of philosophers, and the lessons of history that provided the frameworks I needed to make sense of suffering and find a path forward.
This revelation prompted me to completely reconsider my educational trajectory. I applied to the University of Austin, drawn by its commitment to rigorous liberal arts education and its willingness to ask difficult questions about truth, beauty, and justice. When I received both admission and a full-ride scholarship, it felt like validation that this dramatic course correction was exactly what I needed.
The timing couldn’t be more perfect. The University of Austin’s unique position—with its connections to prominent figures in technology and venture capital—offers an unprecedented opportunity to bridge two worlds that are too often seen as incompatible. I envision leveraging these networks not just to advance my own career, but to build something meaningful that demonstrates how technical innovation can be guided by humanistic wisdom.
The stakes extend far beyond my personal journey. We’re living through a crisis of meaning and understanding that threatens the very foundations of our democratic society. When the majority of citizens cannot articulate the philosophical underpinnings of Western civilization—cannot explain why our institutions exist or how they might be improved—we become vulnerable to demagogues and simplistic solutions. Our founders understood that self-governance requires an educated citizenry capable of reasoned debate about complex moral and political questions. We abandon the liberal arts at our civilizational peril.
My mission for the next four years is ambitious yet essential: to forge a synthesis between humanistic wisdom and technological capability. I want to emerge not just as a more skilled programmer or entrepreneur, but as someone who can think deeply about the human implications of the tools we build. In a world increasingly shaped by artificial intelligence and digital systems, we desperately need technologists who understand literature, philosophy, and history—who can ask not just “can we build this?” but “should we build this?” and “what kind of world will this create?”
This integration won’t be easy, but I believe it’s exactly what our moment demands: a new generation of builders who are equally fluent in Python and Plato, who can debug code and deconstruct arguments, who understand both algorithms and ethics. The future belongs not to narrow specialists, but to those who can navigate complexity with both technical precision and moral clarity.