I look forward to build something with others especially if we’re on the same wavelength. Here’s a a living document into how I operate! These are not rigid rules, but as a way to set context. I can adjust as needed.
Immersive at the start, independent afterward. I like to spend time early on calibrating our direction—understanding goals, mapping strategies, and sharpening our approach. Once we establish a shared mental model, I trust you to execute. I don’t micromanage, but I remain available when roadblocks arise.
Big-picture first, then the weeds. I approach most things from a structural perspective—understanding the why and the larger system before having to execute nuance. This means I will often ask foundational questions upfront, not as a challenge, but to make sure we’re anchoring in first principles.
I do not pretend to know what I don’t. “I don’t know” is a perfectly acceptable answer, and I value it more than overconfidence. But from there, we figure it out.
I work best when we jam. Nothing builds rapport quite like thinking through something together. If we are both stuck, I would most likely send you a Google Meet link to sketch ideas out and refine as we go. That said, if you work better asynchronously, I can adapt.
I thrive in the details. I take precision seriously—not just in competitive debate, but in the craft of what we produce. Whether it’s a research report, a policy draft, or a strategy memo, I believe clarity and elegance elevate the ideas we have. If that means scrutinizing a single paragraph for hours, so be it!
Feedback is a sign of trust. I value direct, specific feedback because it tells me you care about making something better. I am also extremely detail-oriented, so if I flag something, it’s not nitpicking; I just think it matters.
Efficiency should never be mindless. I LOVE streamlined workflows, but I resist the tendency to optimize for optimization’s sake. If a process exists just because “that’s how it’s done,” I’ll probably question it. Let’s be intentional about how we spend our attention, energy, and time.
Ways I Work With You
Advance the work, or deepen the collaboration. Every interaction should either push the work forward or strengthen how we work together. If you’re looking for clarity on something, be as direct as possible; I appreciate crispness. If we’re building rapport, I welcome tangents, jokes, and stories.
Treat context as currency. The more I understand, the more useful I can be. If something is influencing our work (organizational politics, past decisions, a shifting external landscape), loop me in. I would rather overknow than underknow.
Outside insight matters. I believe nothing should be finalized in a vacuum. Before we send something out into the world, we should bring in at least one outside perspective—it always sharpens the end result.
I write a lot. Writing, to me, is not just about communication; it’s about thinking. I document decisions, ideas, and reflections as they happen. If that’s useful to you, great. If not, I’ll make it clear what’s a “must-read” versus a “nice-to-read.”
How to Reach Me Best
When & Why I Show Up
Meetings should do what emails cannot. If we have to meet, it should be for collaboration, strategy, or problem-solving and not just status updates. If it’s purely an update, I’d rather get an email and use that time elsewhere.
I don’t do performative productivity. I’d rather spend five minutes cutting to the core of an issue than an hour circling around it hehe
If we can make it more engaging, we should. Discussions should be rigorous, but they don’t need to be sterile. If there’s a way to make the conversation more dynamic—whether through debate, visualizing ideas, or playing devil’s advocate—let’s do it!
Feedback Is Fuel
I appreciate unvarnished feedback. If something isn’t working, tell me directly. If I can improve something—whether in communication, decision-making, or anything else—I want to know.
Big-picture feedback deserves dedicated space. If there’s a broader pattern or concern, I prefer to set aside time to talk about it rather than addressing it on the fly. Give me a heads-up, and I’ll come prepared.
Growth happens in discomfort. I am drawn to challenges and believe some of the best work comes from the willingness to wrestle with uncertainty, complexity, and even failure. If you’re willing to push me, I’ll push back just as hard.
Why I Build What I Build
Curiosity is my driving force. I don’t work just to get things done—I work to figure things out. I ask a lot of questions, not to slow things down, but to understand at the deepest level possible.
I like to build, not just critique. I was trained in disciplines that teach deconstruction—the arts, critical theory, statistics, and public administration—but my real interest is in constructing: what better systems can we design? How do we make governance more just, technology more humane, transitions more equitable?
I care deeply about craft. Whether it’s a research paper, a policy or project proposal, or a simple email, I believe in getting the details right. Words, structures, and narratives matter. I hold high respect for people who take their craft seriously, no matter the discipline.
Let’s be human about it. Work is serious, but it doesn’t have to be rigid. I appreciate humor, shared enthusiasm, and moments where we can step back and say: “This is hard, but it’s also kind of incredible.”
The Values I Return To
Pursuing the good, and not just meaning well. I want to do good not just in sentiment, but in strategy by picking the right problem, at the right time, in the right way. This means acting with scope sensitivity and asking hard questions about my impact, not just intent. Later, not only do I plan to allocate an 8% increase of the income I donate to charities, but also dedicate my entire career toward causes that matter most, even if they aren’t visible or even if they aren’t perceived urgent today. After all, the part of the world I can reach is small, but I intend to hold it like it matters and doing so with both ambition and care. When I think about what I owe to others, I begin from the premise that lives matter equally, and move backward from there.
The kind of good that holds up in the dark. I want the arc of my decisions to withstand not just scrutiny, but the moments when no one is watching or when no one would know. Integrity, to me, is the quiet discipline of doing the right without applause. It is follow-through when it is inconvenient. It is restraint when cutting corners is easy. I think about the kind of person I’d trust with hard decisions, and then try to be that person. Not perfect, but principled. Not performative, but consistent. If someone laid bare every line of my emails, every choice behind closed doors, I want to feel like I could stand by it. Not because it was flawless, but because it was honest. Because it tried.
Clarity over comfort. I try to see things as they are, not as I wish them to be. That means being honest with myself, especially when it’s inconvenient. I believe in the humility to admit I was wrong, and in the discipline to revise when the facts demand it. Curiosity isn’t a branding exercise, but a daily practice of letting go of certainty. I want to be the kind of person who can hold complexity without collapsing into confusion, who can pivot with integrity when the terrain shifts. But clarity, too, is not passivity. I will still argue, still advocate, still persuade because truth-seeking is not truth-abandoning, but the questioning and the courage to be changed.
Working like it matters, because it does. I don’t believe in grinding for the sake of the grind. But when the stakes are real, I move with precision, and with systems that can scaffold and not stretch me thin. I want to continue making a dent in the problems I’ve chosen, and that requires clarity, discipline, and ruthless prioritization. I care about direction more than speed. And I chase ambition, so long as it serves something beyond ego. When I rest, it’s with the same intentionality I told you: restoration as preparation, not as escape.
Transparency as trust in practice. I believe in candor that sharpens, not cuts. That tells the truth not just when it’s easy, but when it’s necessary. I don’t see transparency as another performance, but as a form of care: the kind that honors people enough to be honest with them. If something feels off, I’ll name it. If something could be better, I’ll say so. But always with softness where it’s due, and clarity where it’s needed. Feedback, to me, is a shared experience less pointing fingers, and more pointing forward. It’s how we grow, too—not apart, but toward each other.
Flourishing as shared responsibility. I choose to see others not as threats to my space, but as potential allies of something larger than ourselves. I don’t believe power is zero-sum; if anything, it multiplies when shared with care. I want my work to outlive me, not in legacy but in utility. That means creating structures where others can thrive, paradigms others can adapt, and ideas others can take further. My favorite questions are who else can lead this? and how do I build myself out of the process? Thus, I measure success not in visibility, but in how many people I’ve made room for.
Love as orientation, not afterthought. I return to love often, not as sentiment, but as some scaffolding. I want love to structure my decisions, the communities I invest in, and the futures I help imagine. My politics, at its core, is a refusal to accept preventable suffering as normal. I want to practice radical empathy, even when it is inconvenient. My friends, my family, my chosen kin—I want them to feel that the way I work is also the way I care.
Wholeness is not a luxury. I used to believe impact required sacrifice from rest, joy, softness. But now I know that sustainability is itself a form of seriousness. I want my work to be rigorous and my life to be whole. I still overthink. I still skip meals. But I’ve come to reframe care not as indulgence but as some infrastructure. The gym, the mountains, the music aren’t breaks from my creative practice. They are the compost that feeds it. I want to age with depth, not just credentials.
Discipline, in service of alignment. The good I aim for is not some distant utilitarian ideal. Before I can carry complexity, I must be able to carry myself. That means choosing clarity over chaos, and discipline over drift. This may be perceived that I renounce, but really it is to return to rhythms that nourish, as in sleep that restores, movement that grounds, or a stillness that listens. I don’t chase purity. But I do want to stay clear-eyed, present, and intact for the long game. To be available to the world, I must first become someone I can rely on. And I don’t always get these right. But these are the values I return to, again and again.