For a long time, I worked hard, and not smart.

When I was pursuing a dual degree in architecture and construction engineering 4 years ago, I’d wake up at 5:30 AM, haul construction equipment on job sites until 10:30, attend class at 11:00, spend four hours in architecture studio, go to night classes for engineering, and do it all over again the next day, and work 12-hour-days on Fridays.

Despite all that, I still got rejected from every freshman internship I applied to. It wasn't because I didn’t work hard—I was basically breaking my back with little sleep during the winter in Michigan. In the construction industry, it’s the norm to show up before the sun rises, work through grueling conditions, and earn respect by proving you can keep up, pull your weight, and never cut corners.

After working manual labor for a couple months and getting rejected from multiple internships, I finally I got two offers during my freshman year. I worked full-time through the summer and took a full course load (15 credits), and part-time in the fall—while taking 21 credits. I developed sleep problems, including regular sleep paralysis and falling alseep in public without even knowing. The combination of sleep debt, a deviated nasal septum (which causes one of my nasal passways to take in less air), and breathing in sawdust and all kinds of chemicals at work probably didn't help. At the time, I didn't know I had an actual health problem—I thought it was just burnout.

Reflecting on this, I realized I didn’t want to build spaces; I wanted to design products.

In January 2023, after completing 2 years of my curriculum, I managed to walk away from that entire path along with $80,000 in scholarships to start over in UX design.

And I did it again: worked hard, and still kind of stupid.

The Savannah College of Art & Design (SCAD) has an in-house innovation studio, SCADpro, that gives high-performing students the opportunity to work with brand names on projects, and so that's where I applied.

When I transferred to SCAD as a sophomore, I asked about SCADpro. The answer was basically: Good luck. Those projects are for upperclassmen and grad students. Unless I knew a professor, I was told not to bother.

I hated that.

If I was stuck taking gen-eds, I’d find my own way in. Before I took a single UX design class, I taught myself Figma. I spent six months designing and prototyping a full app with Protopie, purely just to learn.

But I hit a wall: I couldn’t get enough survey participants.

So I tried something bold. I applied to Georgia Tech’s Startup Exchange Summit in Fall 2023. Somehow, I got in as one of 25 “founders” invited to present to 1,000+ attendees from companies like Google, Microsoft, Nvidia, and Anthropic.

I had zero interest in launching a startup. I just needed user feedback.

I showed up an hour before everyone else, brought my own monitor, and printed a full convention banner. My booth looked legit, and it drew a crowd. Call it ignorance, call it overkill, but it worked. I tested my prototype with dozens of people, got the data I needed, and left with five CS student resumes from Georgia Tech asking to help build it.

I never followed through. Not because I wasn’t proud, but because I knew I was still learning. I didn’t want to fake it—I wanted to earn it.

After building my first portfolio from that single app, I landed my first SCADpro, and was even asked to lead the team. The project, in partnership with Deloitte, focused on uncovering the systemic barriers fathers face in the U.S. social safety net (the rest is under NDA). It wasn’t just a win—it was the first recognizable name on my resume. I thought that would open doors.

It didn’t.

I went to every career fair I could. Talked to anyone who would listen. Got ghosted or rejected over 100 times before landing a single interview for a summer internship.

First round: average.

Second round: great.

Final round: nope.

It sucked.

Still, I kept going.

That same semester, I was finally able to enroll in UX101, later than everyone else because I came in as a transfer. But unlike most of the class, I’d already figured out the tools. That freed me to focus on what actually makes someone a designer: critical thinking, not clicking around in Figma.

Fifty more applications later, I got one more interview. This time, it led to an offer from CarMax.

There, I was the only product designer on a five-week project to design, build, and test a brand-new app. I built a prototype that could generate $20M in annual revenue. No intern had delivered that kind of impact before. I got an informal "return offer" for after I graduate.

But I wasn’t satisfied. If 150+ companies had rejected me, what other opportunities had I missed? I didn’t want to just work hard—I wanted to work even harder. (I still didn't learn my lesson)

That meant pushing every class project to get closer to the work I wanted to do. I earned my professors’ trust to adapt assignments, aiming each one at the kind of products I wanted to design.

Then I heard SCAD had a partnership with Google to test usability and onboarding for Google Home, right before Gemini launched. I wasn’t invited. But I made it happen.

The team knew my work and wanted me on board. I convinced the professor too. But it wasn’t enough to just show up—I needed to stand out and be indispensable.

It was only a research project. Google didn’t ask us to design anything. But it certainly wouldn't hurt if I put in double the work of what was expected, as long as I did it right.

I used our findings to redesign the onboarding voice interface from the ground up using Eleven Labs. We tested it, refined it, and presented it directly to the visiting Google designer. They left impressed. I left knowing I’d made the most of the opportunity.

(A few months later I got a UX design intern interview with Google. They rejected me a few days after.)

Since then, I’ve approached every academic project the same way—going beyond what’s asked, pushing into areas I don’t understand yet, and trying to maximize the return on every hour I put into this work.

Right now, I’m a full-time product design intern at IGS Energy, balancing a full course load, including a SCADpro for Twilio. I’m one of three peer tutors in the UX department, and I volunteer as an unregistered student for a SCADpro project with Porsche because the faculty trusted me to deliver. I help lead FLUX ATL, SCAD’s UX club, and I run CoLabs, a student group focused on real-world projects outside the classroom.

I also rent out my spare room on Airbnb to sustain myself.

Hard work has paid off. I’m grateful for every opportunity. But I’ve also faced more rejections than I can count.

Not because I lacked “qualifications.” I’ve seen classmates land roles with less experience—sometimes even with work I contributed to. That’s the landscape. Talent isn’t always enough. But I always treat rejection and failure as a chance to improve. It's iterative. It's trial and error. I guess I'm naturally a designer.

When Google passed after round one, I reviewed everything. When Robinhood said no at the final round, I broke it down and rebuilt. I don’t dwell—I revise.

I’ve never been the most connected. I don’t have "500+ LinkedIn connections", heck I probably don't even know 500 people. (Does anyone actually?) What I do have is a deep commitment to the craft and a relentless drive to get better.

And yes, I’m still a normal person. I can do small talk, deep talk, or no talk—whatever makes the work better. My point is that, for me, making connections to get in the door has always, and will always take a backseat to me focusing on improving my craft. Connections are smart, and they often yield better results, but that's not what makes me a better designer.

I want to be the kind of designer who never stops asking why, never stops improving, isn't afraid to get beat down over and over again, and never loses sight of the people on the other side of the screen.

As of March 2025, I was diagnosed with sleep apnea. For those who don't know, it's a sleep disorder in which breathing repeatedly stops and starts. According to the doctor, my sleep apnea can reduce my REM and deep sleep by 15-25%, which can map to about a 10-20% performance decline in working memory, attention span, physical stamina, etc.

Basically, that means I've been living every single day on hard-mode for all this time and still managed to come this far.

I didn’t take the straight path here. But every detour, every rejection, and every overworked semester brought me closer to the kind of designer I want to be: constantly curious, clear-headed, and ruthlessly dedicated to the people I’m building for.

I’m not asking for a handout. Just a shot. And if I get it, I’ll make it count.

I know how this works. Out of a thousand applicants, only a handful will even be seen. Fewer still will make it to the end. The odds aren't in my favor. But someone will beat them.

And if it’s the person who changed everything just to get here and redesigned their life with the same care they bring to every product—who worked, learned, failed, failed, failed, and still kept going, even when their body told them they couldn't—I’d like to think I’ve earned the shot.