For over two decades, my world was built around helping people achieve what they thought was impossible. I founded a small little community business I called Swim Technique Academy, born from a deep passion for teaching in the water. It wasn't just about teaching strokes; it was about empowerment. I taught three-year-olds to find their courage and float for the first time. I worked with mothers, giving them the tools to teach their own children how to survive in the water. I coached triathletes to shave minutes off their time and guided swimmers to conquer the open ocean.
As a trainer at Equinox, I translated complex biomechanics into programs that changed lives. One of my proudest moments came when a executive I had trained for years used his newfound strength and swimming prowess to rescue two children from a riptide in the Hamptons. This was my work: investing everything I had to build people up, to witness their transformation.
But behind this success, I was broken. While I was a dedicated coach and a meticulous founder, I was fighting a private battle with depression and anxiety that was slowly eroding my own foundation. I was an expert at building systems for others, but the one I built for myself was designed to hide my struggle, and eventually, it crumbled completely.
Incarceration was the stark, deafening silence after that collapse. It was there, stripped of a life I no longer recognized, that I made a vow. I would not be defined by my failure. I would dedicate myself to becoming a better version of who I was. Education became the tool for this reconstruction. Immersed in books on psychology and strategy, I began to architect a new life, brick by brick, earning a college degree with a 4.0 GPA.
That vow was truly tested when I arrived at Princeton. The opportunity, made possible by the vision of the NSF REU program and the Princeton Prison Teaching Initiative, was a dream. But the reality was a profound challenge. I was an outsider, and I felt it in the stares of my younger peers. The academic workload was immense, and my old anxieties crept back in. But this time, unlike in my past, I knew how to ask for help. The lifeline support of my mentors and the unwavering belief of my friends gave me the strength to navigate the complexities. I refused to let my past dictate my future. I worked with a relentless drive, fueled by the desire to honor the risk that this institution had taken on me.
The success of my research project is more than an academic achievement; it's a prototype for a better way of operating. It is living proof of what can happen when we invest in human potential. My goal now is to scale that prototype—to build new bridges between institutions like Rutgers and Princeton, creating research-driven, entrepreneurial solutions to complex social problems. I am seeking mentors, collaborators, and partners who believe in this mission and want to help me build it.
