My husband worked in tech. We had a tiny red toy poodle, a two-bedroom apartment, and I had a communications manager job that finally paid enough to exhale.

From the outside, it looked like we'd assembled all the right pieces of adulthood.

Not glamorous.

Just... stable.

The kind of stable I'd spent my entire twenties chasing.

Growing up, I thought adulthood was something you earned. You worked hard enough, made enough good decisions, found the right partner, landed the right job, and eventually you crossed some invisible finish line where life stopped feeling so precarious.

I thought I'd found it.

Then, in what felt like the span of a single breath, it all came apart.

My marriage ended.

I left my job.

The life I'd carefully assembled disappeared much faster than I'd built it.

I cut all my hair off…pieced together part-time jobs because that was what I could find. Every month became a puzzle of due dates, paychecks, and overdraft fees. I learned exactly how far I could drive after the gas light came on. Grocery shopping became an exercise in subtraction, putting things back on the shelf until the total matched whatever happened to be in my checking account.

I hated asking for help.

Not because the people around me were unkind.

Because I had absorbed the belief that if I had to ask, I had somehow failed.

But then something unexpected happened.

People kept saying yes.

Friends slipped me money without making me feel like a charity case. Someone showed up with dinner. Someone else came over and helped me clean my apartment when depression had made every room feel impossible to face. People mailed flowers. They texted to ask if I'd eaten. They reminded me that I wasn't alone, even when I felt completely untethered.

At the time, I thought they were doing me favors.

Looking back, I think they were doing something much more important.

They were keeping me alive.

Help carry someone else

This February, 2026, my heart broke again.

The person I was engaged to and I ended our relationship.

Grief has a strange way of convincing you that you're the only person who has ever felt this lonely. It narrows your vision until all you can see is what you've lost.

And then, once again, people showed up.

Friends sat beside me while I cried. They brought food when I forgot to eat. They checked in without asking me to pretend I was okay. They made me laugh when I needed a break from my own thoughts. They held hope for me on days when hope felt completely inaccessible.

I don't know if they realize what they gave me.

It wasn't just comfort.

It was proof that I wasn't carrying my life by myself.

This has been one of the hardest years of my life.

It's also been one of the years I'm most proud of.

Because somewhere in the middle of all of that heartbreak, I helped co-found the Rustin Institute for Leadership Development.

People have asked me how I found the energy.

The truth is...

I didn't.

We did.

The Rustin Institute exists because none of us believe that people flourish in isolation.

We believe leadership can be taught.

We believe communities become stronger when people invest in one another.

We believe that education, mentorship, advocacy, mutual care, and human connection aren't luxuries. They're infrastructure.

Help build the infrastructure

That's the word I keep coming back to.

Infrastructure.

When we hear that word, most of us think about roads, bridges, and power lines.

But I've started wondering if the most important infrastructure in our lives is invisible.

The friend who answers the phone.

The mentor who opens a door.

The neighbor who watches your dog.

The person who sends you twenty dollars because they somehow knew today was the day you'd need it.

The meal left on your porch.

The text that says, "Thinking about you."

The conversation that changes the course of your life.

None of those things make the news.

But without them, I honestly don't know where I'd be.

We talk a lot in this country about independence.

As if the goal of adulthood is to stop needing people.

As if needing help is something to be embarrassed by.

But I've never met anyone who actually made it alone.

Someone taught you how to drive.

Someone edited your résumé.

Someone let you cry on their couch.

Someone paid for dinner when your card declined.

Someone checked in after the funeral.

Someone believed in you before you believed in yourself.

We almost never call those moments what they are.

Infrastructure.

That's why I'm walking in AIDS Walk Atlanta.

Not because I think one fundraiser changes the world.

But because I know exactly what it feels like when another human being decides that your life is worth showing up for.

I've lived long enough to know that one meal can matter.

One ride can matter.

One conversation can matter.

One donation can matter.

One person saying, "I've got you," can change the trajectory of someone's life.

It changed mine.

If my story resonates with you, I'd love for you to join me.

If you're able, please consider making a gift to my AIDS Walk Atlanta campaign in support of the Rustin Institute. Every dollar helps us build the kind of community that has carried me—not just once, but over and over again.

And if giving isn't possible right now, I'd ask something else of you.

Think about the people who carried you.

Then tell them.

We spend so much of our lives believing we became who we are through sheer determination.

The older I get, the less I believe that.

I think we're all walking around as living monuments to people who refused to let us fall.

I'm certainly one of them.

Rooted in the people who carried us.

Rising because they refused to let us fall.

Ready to become that person for someone else.

I'll be one of those people.

✳︎

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✳︎✳︎✳︎

My parents and I were planting more milkweed. Every year, monarch butterflies seemed to find our backyard, laying impossibly small eggs that would become fuzzy caterpillars. I’d let them crawl across the backs of my hands, their tiny feet barely more than a tickle against my skin. Then, somehow, they disappeared into a chrysalis and returned as something entirely different. Days later, I’d hold out a finger and watch a butterfly step onto it as if we had known each other all along.

I remember the first butterfly that chose my finger instead of the milkweed beside it. I held my breath because I was convinced that breathing too hard might scare it away.

I didn’t have words like metamorphosis or liminality.

I certainly wasn’t thinking about theology.

But I remember wondering.

How could something dissolve into what scientists politely call “cellular soup” and still remember how to become a butterfly?

Everyone seemed satisfied that it happened.

I couldn’t stop wondering how.

Even now, decades later, I’m more captivated by that story than the myth of the phoenix. Rising from ashes is beautiful, but ashes are clean. A butterfly becomes something new only after becoming something else entirely. Inside the chrysalis, it quite literally comes undone.

As an autistic person, I can admit there is something wonderfully unsettling about that. Wet goop has never been my favorite texture.

Transformation, I've learned, has terrible boundaries.

My body likes things to have edges. I want to know where something begins and where it ends. I like patterns that repeat, systems that make sense, textures that behave the way they’re supposed to. Goop refuses all of that. It has no structure you can hold onto. It slips through your fingers. It insists on being in between.

And yet I keep returning to butterflies and moths—not because they’re delicate, but because they remind me that transformation is rarely tidy. Before something beautiful can emerge, something familiar often has to dissolve.

I think I’ve spent my whole life trying to make peace with that.

Every version of myself I’ve loved has eventually become too small to hold the person I was becoming.

The version of me who thought faith meant certainty.

The version of me who thought everyone else had already figured themselves out.

The version of me who introduced himself with a name that no longer fit.

The version of me who believed ministry belonged to people with answers instead of questions.

Again and again, I’ve mistaken the feeling of coming apart for the certainty that I’d come to the end. Looking back, I can see it was almost always the beginning.

Looking back, I don’t think the sacred first found me in a sanctuary.

I think it found me kneeling in warm Arizona dirt, asking how something could completely come apart and still become more fully itself.

I didn’t know then that one day I’d ask the same question of my faith.

Or my body.

Or my calling.

I only knew that whenever the world handed me another chrysalis, I wanted to stay long enough to see what emerged.

✳︎

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✳︎✳︎✳︎

Rustin was the chief organizer of the 1963 March on Washington for Jobs and Freedom, one of the most significant demonstrations in the nation’s history. He also co-founded the Congress of Racial Equality. In addition, he participated in the Journey of Reconciliation, an early effort to challenge segregation in interstate travel.

The proclamation was announced at the National Center for Civil and Human Rights during this year’s Bayard Rustin Day 2026 program, a free public event that brought together the community, elected officials, organizers, and students.

In the proclamation, the Atlanta City Council described Bayard Rustin as a “visionary strategist of the American civil rights movement” whose commitment to nonviolent democratic change helped transform the nation. City leaders also cited Rustin’s role in helping advance the Civil Rights Act of 1964 and the Voting Rights Act of 1965.

The recognition extended beyond City Hall. The Georgia House of Representatives also adopted House Resolution 1714, formally recognizing March 17, 2026, as Bayard Rustin Day and honoring Rustin’s “innumerable contributions to the Civil Rights Movement.” The resolution also highlighted his role as a close advisor to Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. and a key figure in making nonviolent resistance central to the movement.

A Central Figure, Often Treated as Peripheral

As an openly gay Black man, Rustin was often excluded from visible leadership, even as movement leaders relied on his strategy and organizing expertise. His contributions were essential to the movement’s success, but his identity made him a target for political attacks in a way that others were not.

Rustin did not need a proclamation to matter. But proclamations shape memory. They

decide what is official. What is repeatable. What becomes part of the public record.

From Program to Institution

During the event, the LGBTQ+ Institute announced it will transition into an independent nonprofit: the Rustin Institute for Leadership Development (RILD), a new 501(c)(3) organization focused on leadership training, mentorship, and civic education.

The Rustin Institute builds on more than a decade of work developing leaders across movements for justice, with an expanded focus on preparing individuals to sustain long-term organizing efforts.

“Rustin understood that lasting movements are built when communities strategically cultivate the next generation of leaders,” said Tim’m West. “As the LGBTQ+ Institute evolves into the Rustin Institute, we are building on that legacy by connecting emerging leaders to seasoned advocates working toward a more just and inclusive democracy.”

Leadership Already in Practice

The program also highlighted a range of leaders currently working across Georgia.

In a panel titled “Rising Beyond the Blueprint: Young Civic Leaders,” moderated by Jack

Jordan of Georgia Equality, speakers included Congressional Candidate Dr. Everton Blair, and State House Candidate Bentley Hudgins. Panelists discussed governance, public service, and the practical realities of leading within existing systems, offering a view of how movement work is being carried forward in real time.

A Legacy Carried Forward

Walter Naegle, Rustin’s partner, reflected on Rustin’s broader vision.

“Bayard believed in the oneness of the human family and in the responsibility each generation carries to protect democracy and human dignity. It’s inspiring to see new leaders carry that work forward,” Naegle said.

This year’s event theme, Organize the Future: Rooted. Rising. Ready., emphasized the relationship between past movements, present and future leadership, with a focus on how strategies evolve across generations.

A Model for Other Cities

Atlanta’s proclamation establishes a precedent that other cities can follow formal recognition of Bayard Rustin Day expands the public understanding of the Civil Rights Movement, including the role of Black queer leadership in shaping its strategy and success.

The proclamation also linked Rustin’s legacy to democratic participation, civil and human rights, and the cultivation of future leaders dedicated to justice and dignity.

Speakers and attendees made clear that symbolic recognition must be matched by action.

“With the Trump administration and Republicans across the country working to erase Black and LGBTQIA+ history, it’s crucial that we honor the legacies of leaders like Rustin,” Royce Mann told The Black Wall Street Times. “But that recognition is only as meaningful as our collective commitment to continuing his fight for racial and economic justice.”

As cities and institutions continue to make decisions about what histories are taught and recognized, proclamations like this one carry practical implications for education, public memory, and civic engagement.

Looking Ahead

Bayard Rustin did not wait to be recognized to do this work. But recognition shapes what is funded, what is taught, and who is understood to lead. Atlanta has made a decision about all three. It signals that Black queer leadership is not peripheral to movement work; it is part of its foundation.

Other cities can follow it—by formally recognizing Bayard Rustin Day, and by investing in the kind of leadership development that ensures the next generation is prepared to meet this moment. Because the question is no longer whether the work matters. It is whether we are willing to support the people doing it.

This story first appeared in The Black Wall Street Times. I’m excited to archive it here as part of my growing body of work and to share it with readers of Astriskos.

✳︎

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✳︎✳︎✳︎

As the global demand for innovative materials continues to soar, the work of Dr. Wei Chen, emphasizes a sophisticated and nuanced approach to the design and optimization of materials and structures.

Dr. Chen, the Wilson-Cook Professor in Engineering Design and Chair of Mechanical Engineering at Northwestern University, gave her recent lecture at the 2024 LeeAnn and Walter Muller Distinguished Scholarship Lecture Series on March 28.

Her discussion on the potential of Latent Variable Gaussian Process (LVGP) in shaping the future of materials, captured hidden influences that impact material and structural behavior; providing a more comprehensive understanding of complex systems.

What sets LVGP apart is its flexibility and adaptability- not only can the method be used to take both qualitative and quantitative variables as inputs, it can also be used to fuse multi-fidelity or multi-source data.

Chen’s academic journey, spanning from Shanghai Jiatong University, to the Georgia Institute of Technology, underscores her expertise and dedication to the field.

Her work has been published in over 380 archival publications including 4 books and 12 book chapters.

Navigating Emerging Material Challenges

Amidst these impressive achievements lies a common thread -- a relentless pursuit of innovation and a commitment to pushing the boundaries.

By seamlessly integrating statistical inference, machine learning, and uncertainty with quantification techniques, Chen navigates the complexities of material design with precision and purpose.

Building on this foundation, the lecture delved deeper into the practical challenges encountered in the realm of material design.

“Specific challenges in making so many discrete decisions include mixed variable design decisions (quantitative and qualitative), multimodal/multi-source machine learning, and integrated on-line and off-line quality control (digital twin).”

Chen further explained how LVGP models are designed with interpretability in mind, ensuring that engineers and scientists can easily understand and explain the underlying mechanisms driving design decisions.

“The integration of models with varying levels of fidelity enables a balance between computational efficiency and accuracy, making LVGP particularly well-suited for designing next-generation materials and structures,” Chen shared.

Advancements in material design such as this statistical method, are poised to transform industries, fostering the development of more sustainable, and technologically advanced products and infrastructure.

This story first appeared on April 15, 2024, by the H. Milton Stewart School of Industrial and Systems Engineering at Georgia Institute of Technology.

I’m excited to archive it here as part of my growing body of work and to share it with readers of Astriskos*

✳︎

If this piece left you with a better question than the one you started with, you’re in the right place.

Astriskos* is where I write about the stories we inherit, the context we overlook, and the little details that change everything.

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✳︎✳︎✳︎

The rooftop of the CODA building came alive with the shared enthusiasm of ISyE students and alumni embarking on a transformative journey together as mentors and mentees. They had signed up to participate in the ISyE MentIE program, a mentorship initiative inspired by the principles of Stephen R. Covey’s The 7 Habits of Highly Effective People.

The MentIE program was initiated with 20 members of its advisory board, each mentoring three undergraduate students.

Against the backdrop of downtown Atlanta, attendees enjoyed the spectacular view enhanced by the soft glow of string lights, adding a touch of magic to the evening.

Rooted in the mission to forge meaningful connections, nurture professional growth, and guide students in making informed career choices, the MentIE program has burgeoned, boasting 79 mentors and 163 students – 141 first-year and 22 second-year participants.

The format was as engaging as the setting, with a cocktail-style spread that encouraged students to move freely from table to table, mingling with alumni mentors.

This dynamic setup facilitated one-on-one interactions, allowing students to ask questions, seek advice, and gain insights from professionals in their chosen field.

Leading the MentIE program is Valarie McConico, the Program and Operations Manager for the Center for Academics, Success, & Equity (CASE), who shares her commitment to bringing structure and proactivity to the program.

“For the first time, we have 40 confirmed mentoring alumni workshops. So, a lot of MentIEs who aren’t sure what they want to do can learn a wide variety of opportunities,” she said.

Two active MentIE participants, Lorette Leone (IE, ‘25) and Anna Park (IE ‘25), echo diverse experiences within the program.

Anna Park, a third year ISyE student, has played an instrumental role in the conception and flourishing success of the MentIE program. Since its inception, Anna has been an unwavering force as the Program Lead and Manager for the MentIE program, actively participating in the program’s first and second phases, contributing significantly to its initiation and subsequent momentum

“When you come from high school to college, you don’t know much about professionalism because it is a big jump, and we want to connect them with alumni to facilitate the academic and professionalism culture.”

As she looks towards her expected graduation in 2025, Anna Park stands as an inspiring figure, showcasing the transformative impact dedicated students can have on the academic and professional growth of their peers.

Lorette Leone, an international student from Tanzania, is a dynamic presence at Georgia Tech, engaging in a range of academic and cultural activities. As a representative for the Georgia Tech Student Ambassadors and Secretary of the African Students’ Association (ASA), she contributes to the campus community.

Leone also serves as an ambassador for Industrial and Systems Engineering, promotes diversity as a member and Secretary of the National Society of Black Engineers and Black Industrial Engineers at Tech, and guides fellow students as an OMED Edge Mentor.

She views Tech as a gateway to a versatile career, with the MentIE program being a pivotal recommendation from Dr. Myles.

Leone shares, “I learned about Georgia Tech through a scholarship program at my high school in Singapore. As an international student from Tanzania, I see the opportunity to study analytical subjects at Tech as a pathway to a versatile career. The MentIE program specifically was recommended by Dr. Nicoly Myles, the Director of the Center for Academics, Success, and Equity (CASE).”

ISyE’s goal is to extend the MentIE program, supporting the professional advancement of participants while also providing the next generation of industrial engineers with the tools to make well-considered decisions about their careers.

Alumni involvement is integral to the ISyE MentIEs program’s success. Dr. Myles and Valarie McConico extend an invitation to alumni interested in contributing to the program’s growth. For more information, please contact Dr. Myles here.

This story first appeared on Dec 6, 2023, by the H. Milton Stewart School of Industrial and Systems Engineering at Georgia Institute of Technology.

I’m excited to archive it here as part of my growing body of work and to share it with readers of Astriskos*

✳︎

If this piece left you with a better question than the one you started with, you’re in the right place.

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✳︎✳︎✳︎

“Our vision was to create a world-renowned program that stands out for its unique integration and excellence,” said Joel Sokol, Director of the Master of Science in Analytics (MSA) program. “We wanted to train professionals who use data not just to analyze problems but to solve them.”

Launched in 2014, the MSA program was built to combine analytics, machine learning, and business insights into an interdisciplinary curriculum that prepares graduates to lead in an increasingly data-driven world.

As the program celebrates its tenth anniversary, it has grown into a flagship degree, ranked among the world’s top programs in data science and analytics and boasting an extensive global network of over 4,000 alumni.

Expanding Horizons through Innovation and Accessibility

Since its inception, the MSA program has championed accessibility and innovation:

• Global Reach: With an online format that spans all seven continents, the program enrolls students in over 150 countries.

• Alumni Network: From just 40 students per year, the program now graduates up to 100 students annually, with over 4,000 alumni worldwide.

• Top Rankings: The program is consistently ranked #1 in Data Analytics, #3 in Data Science, and #3 in Business Analytics.

Dr. Sokol explains, “Our students don’t just learn to interpret data—they learn to use data to reshape industries and create meaningful change.”

Fostering a Diverse and Driven Community

A hallmark of the MSA program is its diverse student body. Students come from a range of backgrounds, from engineering and medicine to art history and social sciences. According to Ann Blasick, Director of Career Services:

“Our students bring a unique blend of passion and problem-solving skills to the table. Whether they come from traditional or non-traditional fields, they are incredibly bright and driven, consistently exceeding expectations.”

The achievements of MSA graduates reflect this drive. Today, they are impacting every corner of the professional world:

• Industry Reach: Graduates have taken on roles in non-profits, government, and major corporations, contributing to critical projects like reducing credit card fraud, optimizing airline routes, and advancing global health initiatives.

• Professional Partnerships: With over 60 corporate partnerships annually, the MSA program continues to facilitate professional development opportunities through project sponsorships and mentoring.

Supporting Career Growth with Unmatched Resources

The MSA program’s dedication to student success extends beyond academics. Over the past decade, the program has developed a robust network of support:

• Comprehensive Mentorship: Alumni mentoring, networking with industry partners, and specialized career services ensure students are fully prepared to excel.

• Professional Development: From career development funds to boot camps and technical interview prep, MSA students are set up for success from day one.

“Our graduates leave here prepared for both technical roles and the interview process,” explains Candace McLemore, Director of Professional Master’s Programs. “We’ve created a community where students develop their skills and enter the workforce as confident, capable leaders.”

Alumni like Evan Charles and Kaylene Gell attest to this support. Charles, with over 28 years at Coca-Cola, returned to the MSA program to expand his expertise, while Gell emphasizes the program’s career support as a critical factor in her readiness to enter the tech industry.

Shaping the Future of Data Analytics Education

Over the past ten years, the MSA program has adapted to the rapidly evolving fields of data science, machine learning, and AI:

• Faculty Expertise: Georgia Tech’s MSA faculty are leading researchers who ensure the curriculum reflects state-of-the-art advancements.

• Evolving Curriculum: Courses are continuously updated, preparing students for the latest industry challenges and technologies.

Dr. Sokol highlights the program’s commitment to staying current: “Our faculty’s research often sets the standard for what students learn. This combination of cutting-edge knowledge and hands-on projects prepares our graduates to lead and make a real impact.”

A Decade of Milestones

The MSA program has reached many impressive milestones in its first decade:

• 10 Years of Excellence: Established in 2014, the program has maintained its standing as a leader in data analytics education.

• 4,000+ Alumni: Graduates are working across 150 countries and in a broad range of industries.

• Top Rankings: Consistently ranked as a leading analytics program in the U.S. and worldwide.

Looking Ahead: Continuing the Legacy of Innovation

As the MSA program moves into its second decade, its mission remains clear: to continue setting the global standard for excellence in data analytics education. Dr. Sokol reflects:

“Our success is the result of a fantastic community—our students, faculty, staff, alumni, donors, and corporate partners. Together, we’re ready to define the next chapter of data science and analytics education.”

Georgia Tech’s MSA program stands as a testament to the power of vision, innovation, and dedication. As it celebrates this milestone, the program reaffirms its commitment to inspiring, educating, and empowering the next generation of data leaders.

With a thriving community and a forward-looking vision, Georgia Tech’s MSA program is ready to drive impactful change for years to come.

This story first appeared on November 11, 2024, by the H. Milton Stewart School of Industrial and Systems Engineering at Georgia Institute of Technology.

I’m excited to archive it here as part of my growing body of work and to share it with readers of Astriskos*

✳︎

If this piece left you with a better question than the one you started with, you’re in the right place.

Astriskos* is where I write about the stories we inherit, the context we overlook, and the little details that change everything.

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✳︎✳︎✳︎

“Food insecurity isn’t just about ramen and fast food. It’s a serious issue where students can’t consistently access the nutrition they need.”

Suraj Sehgal (IE ‘18), former co-founder of Tadaima, Inc. and a TEDx speaker, has devoted his career to addressing critical issues such as food insecurity and human trafficking. Now pursuing an MBA at Berkeley Haas, specializing in Sustainable Business, Sehgal is deepening his commitment to creating impactful change. His journey began at Georgia Tech, where he discovered how to use his ISyE education to make a difference.

Starting with ISyE: A Foundation for Change

Sehgal chose to study Industrial and Systems Engineering (ISyE) for its unique combination of engineering and social sciences, aligning perfectly with his passion for solving global issues. His education equipped him with a versatile skill set, enabling him to bridge diverse fields and make a holistic impact.

“At Georgia Tech, I wasn’t just a student; I became a catalyst for change by identifying how local food pantry resources could be optimized through a systems perspective,” Sehgal reflects.

Sehgal’s determination to make a tangible impact inspired him and a group of friends to pursue Georgia Tech’s Grand Challenges, a living-learning program designed to equip students with the tools they need to tackle global problems.

Local Impact, Global Vision: Addressing Yellow Jacket Food Insecurity

Sehgal’s initial focus was on addressing inefficiencies in international food aid, but he soon realized that meaningful impact could start closer to home.

In the spring of 2015, Sehgal and his Global Grand Challenges team pivoted their efforts to tackle campus food insecurity through the Food Fighters initiative.

“We realized that to make a meaningful impact, we needed to shift our focus to our own backyard,” Sehgal explains.

By combining data-driven solutions with compassionate outreach, the team aimed to improve food access on campus. Their research culminated in the white paper, “Helping Our Own: Addressing Food Insecurity at the Georgia Institute of Technology,” which outlined several recommendations including:

Improving Pantry Operations:

• Hire full-time staff for Klemis Kitchen to manage stocking, food safety, dietary needs, volunteer coordination, and innovative pantry methods.

• Increase the availability of diverse, fresh, and nutritious food.

Developing Technology:

• Address food waste by developing apps for excess food distribution and improving the pantry’s inventory system.

• Create a competition for students to enhance pantry operations.

• Support research at the intersection of public policy and supply chain management to benefit the pantry.

During his time in ISyE, Sehgal’s passion for making a difference wasn’t confined to campus. He also represented the university at the United Nations Youth Assembly, where he connected with young leaders from around the world.

As he reflected in a Huffington Post article, the experience underscored how local initiatives, like Food Fighters, are part of a much larger global movement aimed at creating a more equitable and sustainable world.

Continuing the Legacy: Sehgal’s Current Mission

Sehgal’s work at Georgia Tech laid the foundation for his ongoing commitment to tackling pressing community issues. Now at Berkeley Haas, he continues to advocate for diverse and creative approaches to global challenges, emphasizing the importance of holistic and balanced solutions.

In addition to his academic pursuits, Sehgal co-founded Tadaima, Inc., a real estate startup aimed at disrupting the residential market by providing equity back to traditional renters. Alongside a fellow Georgia Tech graduate, Joseph Malecki, Suraj worked closely with various stakeholders, including renters, commercial real estate developers, and lenders.

“As a co-founder, I collaborated with a diverse group of professionals to craft our business plan, pitch to venture investors, and navigate the complex legal landscape,” Sehgal explained. “We focused on customer discovery, developed marketing strategies, and even led info sessions to identify our first customers.”

Through Tadaima, Sehgal deepened his expertise in blockchain, securities law, and the regulatory challenges associated with equity-backed tokens, ultimately producing two core legal documents essential to business.

Now pursuing an MBA at Berkeley Haas, he continues his mission for impactful change by jumping into the world of climate tech startups and early-stage venture capital, helping startups who hope to make a positive impact in the world.

--

If you are interested in volunteering with Campus Kitchen Project: Sign Up to Volunteer

This story first appeared on September 30, 2024, by the H. Milton Stewart School of Industrial and Systems Engineering at Georgia Institute of Technology.

I’m excited to archive it here as part of my growing body of work and to share it with readers of Astriskos*

✳︎

If this piece left you with a better question than the one you started with, you’re in the right place.

Astriskos* is where I write about the stories we inherit, the context we overlook, and the little details that change everything.

If you’d like to keep exploring, you can:

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Until next time, keep following the little stars.

✳︎✳︎✳︎

As March unfolds, so does the annual commemoration of Women’s History Month, a time to reflect on the contributions of women throughout history and to recognize the ongoing journey toward gender equality.

Within Industrial and Systems Engineering (ISyE), women’s history takes on a special significance—a testament to resilience, innovation, and invaluable contributions in a field traditionally dominated by men.

Ensuring accessibility is crucial for fostering fairness and participation in these celebrations. In the context of International Women’s Day and Women’s History Month intersecting with accessibility, Maria Sotnikova’s journey highlights her deep commitment to inclusivity, sustainability, and data-driven decision-making.

Sotnikova graduated with a bachelor’s degree in 2011 in Industrial Engineering from the H. Milton Stewart School of Industrial and Systems Engineering. She then went on to complete a dual master’s degree in Environmental Policy and City Planning at Georgia Tech in 2014. Currently, she is a Data Scientist at the Atlanta Regional Commission.

In this Q&A, Sotnikova shares insights and perspectives on International Women’s Day, her career trajectory, and unwavering dedication to mentorship as a catalyst for meaningful change.

Q: Can you share some highlights of your career journey since being an ISyE graduate? How has your education influenced your career path?

A: Yes! The greatest part of my ISyE education was how holistic it was. It not only provided me with a strong mathematical and analytical foundation, but it also taught me how to apply those concepts to problems at the human scale, like sustainability. Taking ISyE 4803: Energy and Environmental Analysis led me to explore the public policy side of things by next taking PubP 3600: Sustainability, Technology, and Policy, and before I knew it I was signing up for graduate studies at Georgia Tech’s School of Public Policy to pursue a dual master’s degree in Environmental Policy and City Planning. It’s this exact holistic approach to solving everyday problems that has really helped me in my current role at the Atlanta Regional Commission, where we provide local governments with the information they need for data-driven decision-making.

Q: As someone actively involved in community resource outreach, how do you see the intersection between International Women’s Day and accessibility impacting the Atlanta community? Are there specific challenges or opportunities you’ve observed?

A: Atlanta has long sought to proclaim itself a ‘World Class City,’ and in some ways it has attained this status, but in my opinion we have yet to really celebrate International Women’s Day as fervently as citizens in other countries do. Take into consideration the diversity of residents in our region, especially from places that do celebrate International Women’s Day on a grand scale. The more we celebrate this diversity, the more accessible the celebration could become. I think there’s a real opportunity there!

Q: Being from Russia, how has your cultural background shaped your perspective on accessibility, especially within the context of International Women’s Day? Are there aspects of your heritage that influence your approach to your work?

A: Russia is one of the countries where International Women’s Day is widely celebrated, on a level akin to Valentine’s Day in the United States. However, while my home country did a pretty good job of recognizing the many achievements of women, accessibility for women with physical disabilities like myself was more of a challenge there. When my family immigrated to America, it opened up a whole new world of opportunities for me, thanks to the hard work of United States disability rights activists to pass a monumental piece of legislation: the Americans with Disabilities Act[CE1] . It’s with gratitude towards my disabled American forefathers and aspiration towards my Russian foremothers that I approach my work today.

Q: In what ways do you believe your experiences and achievements can inspire current ISyE students and others pursuing careers in data science and community engagement?

A: Honestly, I’ve found the word “inspirational” and all its derivatives to be so overused that it’s lost most of its meaning. In the context of disability, the word “inspirational” even makes me cringe. Inspiring people requires getting people to take action. If my background or current occupation is relatable or aspirational to your readers, could we figure out a way for them to connect with me to establish actionable mentor opportunities? I think that would be the best way my experiences and achievements could actually inspire others.

Q: Can you share a particular project or initiative you’ve worked on that intersects with International Women’s Day and accessibility? What lessons or insights have you gained from that experience?

A: During my time at Tech, I was heavily involved in the music scene and gained experience organizing music events. Shortly after graduating, I volunteered with a local arts and music festival called Ladyfest Atlanta. The festival was an intentional space where women and gender non-conforming artists of all types could share their work and speak out on local issues. My lived experience as a disabled woman and the lessons I learned organizing events at Georgia Tech then prepared me for the opportunity to be Ladyfest’s Accessibility Coordinator. It was a blast!

Q: As an alumna, how do you stay connected with the ISyE community, and do you see opportunities for alumni to contribute to discussions around International Women’s Day and accessibility within the academic setting?

A: Through Alumni Spotlight interviews like this! I really hope that through me sharing my experiences, international women in ISyE and disabled students at Tech will reach out to me to connect!

Q: Looking ahead, what are your aspirations and goals in terms of promoting accessibility and gender equality, both in your professional role and within the broader community?

A: I keep stressing this, but I do genuinely want to take on more mentorship responsibilities. As a young girl, I was fortunate enough to participate in mentorship programs with international students through the YWCA and with disabled peers through the MDA. Those experiences taught me the value of leading by example, and I aspire to promote accessibility and gender equality by offering myself as a mentor.

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By acknowledging and celebrating women’s history within ISyE, we not only honor the achievements of those who came before but also pave the way for a more inclusive and equitable future. It’s a reminder that diversity strengthens the fabric of engineering, and that recognizing the contributions of women is essential for fostering a culture of inclusivity and innovation within the discipline.

If you’d like to connect with Maria, reach out to her via email at: mariasot@gatech.edu

This story first appeared on March 30, 2024, by the H. Milton Stewart School of Industrial and Systems Engineering at Georgia Institute of Technology.

I’m excited to archive it here as part of my growing body of work and to share it with readers of Astriskos*

✳︎

If this piece left you with a better question than the one you started with, you’re in the right place.

Astriskos* is where I write about the stories we inherit, the context we overlook, and the little details that change everything.

If you’d like to keep exploring, you can:

Subscribe now

Read My Journalism at BWST

Explore My Website

Until next time, keep following the little stars.

✳︎✳︎✳︎

CHARLOTTE, N.C. — As the United States approaches its 250th anniversary, the Freedom Center for Social Justice is asking a question that cuts beneath the celebrations: Who gets remembered?

Through its month-long 250 Years of Resistance campaign, the Charlotte-based organization is challenging the versions of American history that often celebrate freedom while overlooking the people who fought hardest to expand it. The campaign centers Black, queer, trans, immigrant, and faith-rooted communities whose contributions have too often been treated as footnotes rather than foundations.

For Bishop Tonyia Rawls and her late wife, Gwendolyn Woodard-Rawls, who founded the organization together, that work begins with truth.

“It is imperative that we start telling the truth,” Rawls said. “In the absence of truth, real healing can never take place.”

The campaign arrives at a moment when battles over books, curricula, archives, and public memory have become political flashpoints nationwide. But Rawls resists the idea that the struggle is merely about remembering forgotten histories.

“The goal here has never been erasure,” she said. “It has been control.”

Control of whose stories are taught. Control of whose labor is valued. Control of whose bodies, communities, and futures are treated as worthy of protection.

Those themes did not emerge suddenly from a campaign planning meeting. They are woven throughout Rawls’ life and ministry.

Bishop Tonyia M. Rawls is a national faith leader and social justice activist who has focused the majority of her work in the Southeastern United States fighting oppression and discrimination. Raised in Newark during the years surrounding the civil rights movement, Rawls learned early that communities survive not simply through resistance, but through relationships. One of her most enduring memories comes from the aftermath of Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.’s assassination, when her mother walked her through neighborhoods damaged during the uprisings that followed.

“You never tear your own stuff up,” her mother told her.

At six years old, Rawls understood the lesson literally. Over time, she came to understand something larger.

The point was never passive acceptance. It was stewardship. Protect what sustains your community. Fight injustice without destroying the relationships, institutions, and people that make survival possible.

That ethic would shape much of what came next.

Years later, at Duke University, Rawls described herself as “surviving” the institution more than thriving within it, spending time in chapel crypts among dead presidents while navigating spaces that were not built with Black queer women like her in mind. She would go on to found Unity Fellowship Church Charlotte — the first Unity Fellowship congregation in the Bible Belt — before becoming one of the first women bishops in the Unity Fellowship Church Movement.

When she arrived in Charlotte in 2000, she was commissioned to start an affirming congregation at a time when being openly Black, gay, and Christian in the South carried significant risks.

People told her no one would come.

Instead, the congregation grew rapidly.

Looking back, Rawls traces that growth to a simple conviction.

“Love, fundamentally, is the center of every single thing we’ve done,” she said.

She remembers feeling called toward a mission that differed from much of the church-growth language she had been taught.

“I need you to open a door to welcome my children back home,” she recalled hearing from God.

That understanding of love was never sentimental. It became the foundation of a public theology that linked faith, justice, and community accountability.

“Love in its purest, simplest form actually is the most powerful thing,” Rawls said. “Bombs have never done that. Lovers transform the world.”

That philosophy would eventually shape the Freedom Center for Social Justice, founded in 2009.

The organization’s earliest work focused on HIV and AIDS education in Black communities and partnerships with clergy. One of its most influential efforts, the Do No Harm campaign, encouraged faith leaders to recognize the harm caused by anti-LGBTQ rhetoric and practices.

“You start with just getting them to stop causing harm,” Rawls said.

Over time, the work expanded.

Legal advocacy. Leadership development. Ballroom organizing. Faith partnerships. Community education. And eventually, the Trans Faith in Action Alliance, now one of the nation’s most significant gatherings of trans and gender-expansive faith leaders.

What is striking about the origin of that work is Rawls’ willingness to describe it not as an example of visionary leadership, but of personal limitation.

“I said, I have to have a blind spot,” she recalled. “And it was my trans siblings.”

Although she considered herself affirming and inclusive, she realized she knew far less about the lived realities of trans people than she had assumed. As she listened, stories emerged — stories of loneliness, violence, rejection, and survival.

“I was shocked,” she said.

From that inner work, a gathering became a network. A network became an institution. An institution became a place where people could find one another.

That pattern appears repeatedly throughout the Freedom Center’s history.

1. Listen.

2. Tell the truth.

3. Build something.

It is also visible in Rawls’ understanding of Black women’s labor.

For generations, Black women have organized meals, churches, freedom campaigns, mutual aid networks, caregiving systems, and social movements while receiving only partial recognition for the worlds they helped sustain.

“We are used, tolerated, but never recognized,” Rawls said.

That observation sits near the heart of 250 Years of Resistance.

The campaign unfolds across four weeks, examining gender-expansive people in early American history, Southern queer organizing traditions, faith-based movements for liberation, and the responsibilities facing future generations. Throughout, it asks participants to reconsider who is centered within the national story and who remains hidden beneath it.

“The hunter always wins in the story,” Rawls said. “Until the lion gets to tell her story.”

The timing carries additional significance.

At the end of June, after more than two decades of leadership, Rawls will retire from the Freedom Center.

She speaks about that transition not with anxiety but with excitement.

“From the beginning, I was building in a way that my desire was to build leaders,” she said.

The succession plan unfolded over several years, with Executive Director Cameron Pruette gradually assuming leadership responsibilities while Rawls remained involved. The approach reflects a question she believes many movement organizations must confront.

“Can founders actually get out of the way before it’s time?” she asked.

Too often, organizations become fragile when leadership transitions occur. Rawls wanted something different. She wanted the Freedom Center to be strong enough to continue growing beyond her.

“I’m not just excited for the Freedom Center,” she said. “I’m excited for the movement.”

That perspective feels fitting for a campaign focused on history.

That confidence comes from years of intentional succession planning. Executive Director Cameron Pruette has gradually assumed leadership responsibilities while working alongside Rawls to ensure the organization’s mission extends beyond any single leader.

For Pruette, that inheritance carries both responsibility and possibility.

“FCSJ is built on these traditions of shifting culture and building coalitions of resistance. I’m excited that we get to continue the legacy started here by Bishop Rawls, and we get to continue to grow our movement for liberation. We will share the histories, we will fight for the present, and we will create the future.”

The sentiment echoes one of Rawls’ deepest commitments: building leaders capable of carrying the work forward.

History, after all, is not only about what survives. It is also about what gets handed forward.

The final event in the 250 Years of Resistance campaign, The Next 250: Virtual Town Hall, will take place Tuesday, June 23 at 6 p.m. EDT and will be livestreamed. Bringing together activists under 25 and over 60, the conversation will explore what has changed, what remains unfinished, and what future generations are being asked to inherit.

And if Rawls’ life offers a lesson, it may be this: the future is rarely built by the people whose names appear in textbooks. More often, it is built by the people who keep opening doors, telling the truth, and making room for others to walk through.

This work is rooted in community.

Every event you attend, every story you engage with, every conversation you participate in helps shift culture, build power, and move us closer to justice.

This story first appeared in The Black Wall Street Times on June 8, 2026.

I’m excited to archive it here as part of my growing body of work and to share it with readers of Astriskos.

✳︎

If this piece left you with a better question than the one you started with, you’re in the right place.

Astriskos* is where I write about the stories we inherit, the context we overlook, and the little details that change everything.

If you’d like to keep exploring, you can:

Subscribe now

Read My Journalism at BWST

Explore My Website

Until next time, keep following the little stars.

✳︎✳︎✳︎

What if some of the things you're most certain about are only true because someone stopped telling the story halfway through? I've spent most of my life chasing the part of the story that got left out.

“Curiosity killed the cat.”

“Jack of all trades, master of none.”

“Blood is thicker than water.”

You’ve probably heard each of those before.

The thing is, none of them are the whole story.

We inherit truncated stories.

Truncated histories.

Truncated people.

Sometimes the missing half changes everything.

“Curiosity killed the cat, but satisfaction brought it back.“

“Jack of all trades, master of none, but oftentimes better than master of one.“

“The blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb.”

Whether every ending is historically original matters less to me than what these examples reveal: we are astonishingly good at mistaking fragments for the whole.

A sentence loses a clause.
A person loses their context.
A movement loses its history.

And suddenly we’ve inherited an entirely different story.

That’s what this publication is about.

Not collecting facts for their own sake.

Recovering the missing half.

✳︎ Astriskos is the Greek word for “little star.”

It’s where we get the word asterisk.

An asterisk is a strange little symbol. Easy to overlook. Easy to dismiss.

But it almost always points somewhere important.

A correction.

An exception.

A citation.

A forgotten story.

The part that asks us to look again.

I’ve spent much of my life following those little stars.

As a writer.

As a designer.

As a journalist.

As someone who has learned that curiosity is less about collecting answers than refusing to settle for incomplete ones.

What You’ll Find Here

If you’ve found your way here, I hope you’ll leave with better questions than the ones you arrived with.

Some weeks we’ll explore forgotten history.

Other weeks we’ll untangle theology, disability, design, identity, language, or leadership.

Sometimes we’ll follow a single sentence until it opens an entirely different way of seeing the world.

Sometimes I’ll simply tell you a story.

But every piece begins with the same assumption:

People are more complicated than labels.

History is more interesting than summaries.

And curiosity is one of the most hopeful things a person can practice.

If that sounds like the kind of conversations you’ve been looking for—

welcome.

There’s always more to the story.

✳︎

Core Belief

The world changes when people are asked better questions.

I don’t write to impress people with what I know. I write to make people curious about what they haven’t considered yet.

Every piece should leave someone saying:

“I’ve never thought about it that way before.”

My Mission

I write about what becomes possible when we question the stories we inherit, because the right question can change what a person remembers, what a community values, and history itself.

The Practice of Storytelling

(The method I keep returning to.)

Recognition

Someone is seen in full—not as a role, résumé, headline, diagnosis, identity marker, or stereotype, but as a whole person carrying history, longing, wisdom, contradiction, and possibility.

Reflection

Their story is held with care and offered back in language just different enough to surprise them. Not rewritten. Not manufactured. Reflected—so they can hear what was already true.

Revelation

A deeper truth comes into focus. The scattered pieces begin to make meaning. This is the moment someone says, “I’ve never been asked that before,” or “I never thought of myself that way.”

Return

They leave more fully themselves than when they arrived. Not because someone gave them a new story, but because they recognized the one that had been waiting to be heard.

My Favorite Sentence

“I’ve never been asked that before.”

If someone says that after reading my work—or after talking with me—I’ve probably done something worthwhile.

What I’m Really Writing About

No matter the topic, I’m almost always exploring one of these questions:

• What story produced this reality?

• Who benefits from this story?

• Who gets erased from it?

• What have we mistaken for “normal”?

• What becomes possible if we imagine something else?

• What happens when curiosity is safer than certainty?

• How does language shape identity?

• What deserves to be remembered?

• What have we stopped noticing?

• How do people become more fully themselves?

My Real Subjects

These aren’t topics.

They’re obsessions.

• Curiosity

• Belonging

• Story

• Identity

• Memory

• Wonder

• Archives

• Imagination

• History

• Dignity

• Community

• Creativity

• Language

• Attention

• Becoming

Whether I’m writing about branding, religion, disability, transness, design, leadership, or journalism...

I’m writing about one of these.

Words That Feel Like Home

I naturally return to words that carry weight.

Use them intentionally.

• curiosity

• wonder

• belonging

• story

• question

• remember

• inheritance

• archive

• possibility

• witness

• dignity

• imagination

• language

• evidence

• pattern

• attention

• becoming

• invitation

• thread

• roots

• ecosystem

• permission

• practice

• humanity

• history

Words I Avoid

If these appear, they should earn their place.

• leverage

• optimize

• disrupt

• innovative

• impactful

• game-changing

• thought leader

• authenticity

• best practices

• scalable

• synergy

• actionable insights

If it sounds like LinkedIn wrote it, rewrite it.

How My Sentences Move

I don’t like declarations.

I like discoveries.

I often write in movement.

Instead of:

“This is true.”

I prefer:

“I thought this was true.

Then I noticed...

Now I wonder...”

I return to patterns like:

“What if...

Instead...”

“What changes when...”

“The story isn’t...

The story is...”

What Makes Something Worth Writing?

I don’t publish because I have content.

I publish because I’ve noticed something I can’t stop thinking about.

Every piece should answer:

• Why this?

• Why now?

• Why me?

Evidence Before Opinion

I don’t want hot takes.

I want observations.

Show me the interview.

The tattoo.

The photograph.

The conversation.

The archive.

The Bible verse.

The design choice.

The historical record.

Then tell me what you noticed.

Show, Don’t Perform

Readers don’t need to know I’m thoughtful.

They should feel it.

Instead of saying:

“I value curiosity.”

Tell the story about making adults uncomfortable in Bible study because you looked up the Greek.

Instead of saying:

“I believe stories matter.”

Show how a search engine failed Black trans masculine people until someone built STUD+.

The story is the argument.

Emotional Palette

My work should feel:

• Curious before certain.

• Warm before clever.

• Hopeful without being naive.

• Honest without being performative.

• Intellectually generous.

• Emotionally grounded.

• Deeply human.

What I Refuse to Do

I will not manufacture certainty.

I will not flatten complicated people into simple narratives.

I will not write for algorithms before humans.

I will not confuse vulnerability with oversharing.

I will not publish fluff just to stay visible.

Every piece should earn its place in my body of work.

My Visual Language

If my writing had a room, it would contain:

• notebooks filled with questions

• books with sticky notes sticking out

• iced coffee beside a laptop

• warm natural light

• plants

• worn wood

• mustard yellow

• deep teal

• editorial photography

• tattoos that invite questions

• hand-drawn diagrams

• museum energy

• library energy

• community gathering energy

Less “personal brand.”

More “thoughtful studio.”

My Readers

The people I hope find me are:

• The ones who always asked one more question.

• The ones who felt out of place because they noticed things others didn’t.

• The ones rebuilding themselves.

• The ones trying to become more honest than acceptable.

• The ones who suspect there are more ways to be a person than they’ve been told.

The Feeling I Want Someone to Leave With

“I don’t think I’ve ever looked at it that way before.”

Then, ideally:

“I wonder what else I’ve been overlooking.”

The Test

Before I publish anything, I ask:

• Did I notice something real?

• Did I earn my conclusion?

• Is there a human being inside this piece?

• Did I leave room for wonder?

• Would someone remember this six months from now?

• Does this sound unmistakably like me?

If the answer is no, keep writing.

✳︎