Stories

Chayma Nssibi

Chayma Nssibi

Born in El Kef, Tunisia • Birth year 1996 • Studied Applied Mathematics at University of Tunis El Manar in Tunis, Tunisia • PhD in Applied Mathematics from University of Tunis El Manar in Tunis, Tunisia • Lives in Tunis, Tunisia • Postdoctoral Researcher at University of Tunis El Manar in Tunis, Tunisia

I was born in El Kef, in the northwest of Tunisia. My city has been known as the “City of Love and Beauty” since Roman times. It is a culturally rich place where art feels naturally present in everyday life: in the streets, in the shape of the country, in the way people speak, and in how different people live together. To me, it feels like art, like a special world. Growing up in such an environment deeply shaped the way I perceive the world as a big garden. A garden needs many different types of flowers to be truly beautiful, just like the world needs different people, cultures, and perspectives. With respect, love, and care for one another, this garden becomes even more beautiful.

A garden needs many different types of flowers to be truly beautiful, just like the world needs different people, cultures, and perspectives.

Mathematics has always been at the center of my life. From an early age, I enjoyed working with numbers and solving problems mentally, and I often saw the world as a collection of problems, each with its own strategies and solutions. I chose mathematics as my academic track during high school, and after obtaining my baccalaureate, I continued to pursue mathematics, as I have always been passionate about it.

I consider mathematicians to be artists in their own way: they express creativity through research, abstraction, teaching, and problem-solving.

If I had to describe what makes me happy, I would say: mathematics and flowers, and even more, the idea of bringing both together. For me, there is a deep connection between mathematics and art. Flowers represent natural beauty, harmony, and simplicity, while mathematics provides the tools to understand, describe, and structure that beauty. Mathematics transforms complexity into clarity, while art expresses meaning beyond words. I consider mathematicians to be artists in their own way: they express creativity through research, abstraction, teaching, and problem-solving. In this sense, mathematics is not only a scientific discipline but also a form of artistic expression.

A meaningful milestone in my journey was participating in the Heidelberg Laureate Forum 2025, an annual international gathering where 200 outstanding young researchers in mathematics and computer science spend a week engaging with the world’s most prestigious laureates. Blending scientific dialogue with meaningful networking, the Forum creates a unique space for inspiration, mentorship, and the exchange of ideas, shaping the next generation of innovators. During this experience, I had the opportunity to present my artwork: “تونس من حدودها نعيد رسم الأعماق” (“Tunisia From Its Boundary We Redraw Its Interior”).  

This artwork reimagines Tunisia as a Calderón inverse problem, a problem where one attempts to reconstruct the internal structure of an object using only information measured at its boundary. In my artwork, it means reconstructing a nation’s soul using only its borders. Tunisia is not just land enclosed by lines, it is emotion, culture and history expressed along every edge. Inspired by Queen Dido’s legendary optimization problem, the artwork reflects the power of geometry, identity, and feminine genius.Tunisia is a country of art and culture; its borders are the key to understanding its identity. In this regard,Tunisia can be seen as a perfect inverse problem. To understand Tunisia, we must study its borders mathematically and with our heart. This experience allowed me to merge my mathematical mindset with artistic expression, and to share a personal vision that connects identity, culture, and creativity.

I’ve always wanted to understand my father’s brain injury and for this reason now I am interested in biomathematics.

A defining moment in my life came when my father had a serious accident at a young age, which caused him to lose his memory. He no longer recognized me as his daughter. This deeply affected me and led me to question the functioning of the human brain and memory. This personal experience motivated me to pursue science with determination and to better understand complex systems. I’ve always wanted to understand my father’s brain injury and for this reason now I am interested in biomathematics.

During my PhD at LAMSIN (Laboratory of Mathematical and Numerical Modeling in Engineering Sciences), I worked in the field of inverse problems, which focuses on recovering unknown information from observed data, exploring both its theoretical and applied aspects. I did not fully answer the questions that motivated me, since understanding a system as complex as the human brain is a huge challenge, but the journey gave me strong analytical and research skills. 

As a PhD student, I also had the opportunity to complete an internship at BCAM (Basque Center for Applied Mathematics), where I worked on real-world problems in an international research environment. This experience was particularly valuable, as it allowed me to apply mathematical tools to practical situations and collaborate with researchers from different backgrounds. Conferences, summer schools, and workshops, where I exchanged ideas with other researchers, strengthened my interest in research and confirmed my desire to pursue an academic career that combines both teaching and research. Teaching at National Engineering School of Tunis (ENIT) during my PhD has been one of the most fulfilling aspects of my journey: I enjoy explaining concepts and helping others understand mathematics, and sharing knowledge gives me a sense of purpose.

Mathematics has taught me how to think logically, analyze complex situations, and break down difficult problems into simpler components. It is a powerful tool for understanding real-world phenomena (…).

Today I am a postdoctoral researcher, continuing to develop my research skills, and working on advanced mathematical problems. My work today is strongly connected to the foundations I built during my studies. Mathematics has taught me how to think logically, analyze complex situations, and break down difficult problems into simpler components. It is a powerful tool for understanding real-world phenomena and contributing to fields such as healthcare, economics, and engineering.

I am particularly interested in biomathematics, where mathematics is used to study biological systems. I aim to contribute to research that helps better understand complex systems such as the human brain and diseases.

As a woman in STEM and as a woman from Africa, I believe that talent exists everywhere, but opportunities are not always equally distributed.

As a woman in STEM and as a woman from Africa, I believe that talent exists everywhere, but opportunities are not always equally distributed. Women often have to work harder to be recognized, and representation in many scientific fields is still limited. My journey reflects both personal determination and the broader context of striving for excellence in environments where opportunities are sometimes limited. This identity has strengthened my resilience, ambition, and sense of purpose.

I believe that achieving gender equality in STEM starts with changing mindsets and ensuring equal opportunities. Encouraging girls to pursue STEM is important, but it is equally essential that society as a whole supports and values women’s contributions in science. I also believe that a fulfilling professional life can coexist with a meaningful personal life. In the future, I hope to build both a career and a family. While balancing these responsibilities can be challenging, I believe it is possible with determination, organization, and support.

For me, mathematics remains more than a discipline, it is a way of thinking, a source of inspiration, and a path toward understanding the world while appreciating its beauty, much like flowers.

Posted by HMS in Stories
Corinna Perchtold

Corinna Perchtold

Born in Gmunden, Austria • Birth year 1994 • Studied International Business and Management and Technical Mathematics • PhD in Mathematics from Johannes Kepler University Linz in Austria • Postdoctoral Researcher at the French Geological Survey, Orléans, France

If someone would have asked me 15 years ago, what I wanted to do after graduating from school, I would have been proud to say that I just passed the entrance test to study “International Business and Management” in Kufstein, Tyrol. It is a University of Applied Sciences which means that on top of regular study subjects it included internships to gain practical experiences, which brought me to Munich and Vienna, and a designated year to study abroad. In my case I chose the University of Bloemfontein in South Africa. It was a chance to study and live in a country far away from home, where life is completely different compared to Europe and I thought I would seize this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.  

After receiving the Bachelor of Arts three years later, my plan was to switch to a public university closer to my hometown and so I enrolled in the “Finance and Accounting” master at Johannes Kepler University (JKU) in Linz. However, due to organizational hurdles when changing institutions I would have had to redo some exams, which would have delayed the start of my Master studies for at least a semester.

Until this time around 10 years ago in 2015, I had never considered mathematics as a study track but I gave it a try and enrolled in “Technical Mathematics” at JKU. 

I was quite disappointed and started looking for jobs in industry. On a regular Sunday, I was, as so often, at my aunt’s place, when she said: “Why don’t you try studying mathematics for now? You can do the other exams in parallel and a mathematical background would surely help you with any economics master…”, she laughed: “..and you pretty much enjoyed it in school.” 

Until this time around 10 years ago in 2015, I had never considered mathematics as a study track but I gave it a try and enrolled in “Technical Mathematics” at JKU.  The start was rather tough, but it changed when I joined a learning group, who became close friends and still are. We worked through every exercise sheet and every exam together, week after week and then semester after semester. The plan of the economics master was soon off the table. 

As of today, after finishing the Bachelor and Master programme in mathematics and a PhD at the Institute of Stochastics at JKU, I am a Post-Doc at the Bureau de recherches géologiques et minières (BRGM, French Geological Survey) in France. Over my PhD and Post-Doc, I changed from mathematics to statistics. I did research on how rain patterns changed in Austria over the last 60 years, and how heat and humidity would affect different population groups mortality rates in Austria. At BRGM, I deal with different kinds of environmental data and help practitioners interpret spatial maps through uncertainty quantification. They need to know the error coming from either the data or the input parameters to understand the map’s reliability. So far, I do not know where my next position will be, but I know that I want to continue my academic career. 

Even though my way of becoming a mathematician was not straightforward, I learnt to really enjoy what I am doing.

In my thesis I used a saying of an Arnold Schwarzenegger motivational speech I very much agree with: “You cannot climb the ladder of success with your hands in the pocket.” Even though my way of becoming a mathematician was not straightforward, I learnt to really enjoy what I am doing. And the better I become, the more I embrace it: I am convinced that I can further climb the career ladder, if I keep my hands out of my pocket! 

As a FEM in TECH ambassador during my studies, I visited schools and fairs telling girls about what mathematics is at university, what to expect from it and where to find it in everyday life. Since 2021 I have been a member of the Austrian Association of Women in Mathematics (A2WiM). I carry this support to the next professional stage and help organise Career Advice Events for early-stage mathematicians, run our LinkedIn profile and collaborate with other members of the association on the Spotlight section, where we regularly interview Austrian related female mathematicians on different topics. Outreach and supporting networks are an essential part to fight the leaky pipeline, a phenomenon that describes the gradual loss of women at higher stages of the academic career path, particularly in STEM.

In hard phases of publication processes, interviews, grant proposals or extending the network, the association offers a weekly writing circle, a yearly Austrian Day of Women in Mathematics conference, or many more initiatives that support female and non-binary academics. It helped me to find new co-authors, but I also received advice on how to motivate myself when rejections are unavoidable. I am proud to be part of A2WiM and I hope together we can ease the academic way a bit.

Published on October 14, 2026
Photocredit: Matthias Heisler – TUForMath – TU Wien


Posted by HMS in Stories
Gervy Marie Angeles

Gervy Marie Angeles

Born in Cabanatuan City, Philippines • Birth year 1993 • Studied Mathematics at the University of the Philippines Baguio in Philippines • Dr. rer. nat. in Mathematics from University of Vienna in Austria • Lives in Quezon City, Philippines • Assistant Professor at the Institute of Mathematics, University of the Philippines Diliman

The very first memory I have of learning mathematics was set one afternoon in our home in the Philippines. I was about five years old, and my dad, hoping to sneak in a nap, decided to turn me into a human alarm clock. He patiently taught me how to read an analog clock, the short hand for the hour and the long hand for the minutes. Counting by fives as the minute hand ticked away, waiting to wake him up, was the first time I became fascinated with numbers and logic. Things just made sense.

Growing up, I always enjoyed math, but I had no idea you could get a university degree in it. When it came time for university admission, people around me suggested engineering for financial security. I ended up choosing a BS in Mathematics purely because of a rumor that it was a strategic backdoor into a highly competitive engineering program. 
I never made that shift.

What kept me were the “Eureka” moments, those instances where a concept you’ve wrestled with finally clicks into place, and the realization that I wanted to teach. I had been deeply inspired by my female homeroom and Sunday school teachers, and I wanted to be the one at the front of the room, confidently sharing knowledge.

Realizing that my life didn’t need to be a classical solution was cathartic.

My academic journey eventually took me far beyond the Philippines. My first plane ride was for a national conference, followed by a school abroad, and eventually a leap to Europe for my doctorate. The world felt suddenly accessible, and simultaneously daunting.

In my research, I work with differential equations, mathematical tools used to model how systems change and evolve over time. When we try to solve these equations, our first instinct is to look for a “classical solution,” a path that is well-behaved and continuously differentiable at every point. But such a solution only exists if your starting conditions are strong enough to support it. When I first moved to Vienna, my own starting conditions felt completely upended. I remember bawling my eyes out. A series of unfortunate events, coupled with the isolation of the 2020 pandemic, shattered any hope for an orderly transition. The hardest moment came near the end of my doctorate, when I had to extend my stay beyond my scholarship, suddenly self-financing, floating, and convinced I didn’t belong in academia. I had started looking for ways out altogether.

But in mathematics, when a classical solution doesn’t exist, we don’t give up on the system. We look for alternatives, “mild” or “weak” solutions, that relax the requirement of differentiability. A mild solution replaces it with integrability; a weak solution goes further, working with generalized derivatives instead. The path no longer needs to be perfectly well-behaved at every point. It just needs to hold together in a broader sense. Realizing that my life didn’t need to be a classical solution was cathartic. What carried me through was realizing I didn’t have to hold everything together alone. I had people in different parts of my life, in different corners of the world, and that was enough to get me to the other side. Eventually, I applied for a position back home, and slowly, things began to fall into place again.

(…) Mathematics is vast, a language, a science, and an art. More people should know this.

By graduate school, the demographics of mathematics had shifted from what I knew growing up. When I was younger, there were just as many girls excelling in math as boys, maybe more. But the ratio had flipped, and it was easy to feel the loneliness of that. It became even clearer when I taught a graduate course and realized the entire class was male. I hadn’t fully noticed the shift until I was standing at the front of it. One day, I hope seeing women in graduate mathematics classes is the norm, not the exception. A recent all-women and underrepresented-genders workshop reminded me that this future is possible. The energy was joyful, with a wonderfully flat hierarchy where nobody was trying to outshine anyone else.

My hope for the Philippines is more visibility of what mathematics actually is. Once, in a taxi, the driver asked what I studied. I said mathematics, and he genuinely wanted to know what that meant, what I actually do, what I would become. I wish more people were like him. People often assume it means being a human calculator. But mathematics is vast, a language, a science, and an art. More people should know this.

If I could give advice to my younger self, and to any early-career woman reading this: don’t take yourself too seriously, and don’t be afraid to make mistakes. Ask questions, and don’t be ashamed to say you don’t know something. Learning starts with curiosity, and if a manong driver can ask without hesitation, so can you.

Published on September 16, 2026.

Photo credit: Gervy Marie Angeles

Posted by HMS in Stories
Flavia H. Santos

Flavia H. Santos

Born in Brazil • Studied Psychology and Neuroscience • PhD in Science • Lives in the United Kingdom • Director of the Music and Math Cognition Lab at University College London, Institute of Education, and Member of the UNESCO Inclusive Policy Lab

As a multiethnic and multilingual woman in cognitive and developmental neuroscience, I have often found it difficult to be encapsulated by stereotypes. I have studied and worked in environments where ethnic imbalances persisted. I often wish I had encountered role models who looked like me in such spaces, although I remain grateful to everyone who inspired and supported me in many ways throughout my journey.

During my residency in neuropaediatrics and PhD in the Faculty of Medicine at the Federal University of São Paulo, I developed a strong interest in translational and experimental approaches, focusing on human cognition and neurodevelopmental conditions. In my PhD I examined working memory in children with congenital encephalopathies using neuroimaging and behavioural tasks to understand brain plasticity patterns.

(…) I have developed experimental interventions such as musical training, digital games, and safe, non-invasive brain stimulation aimed at enhancing learning processes in children who experience difficulties in mathematics

Years later, my research interests shifted towards mathematical cognition, brain mechanisms, and developmental dyscalculia, prompted by noticing a benefit in maths performance in a study conducted by one of my undergraduate students on children’s musicalisation. Since then, integrating neuroscience, psychology, and education has been central to my work, enabling me to examine how mathematical skills develop and how learning can be optimised through evidence-based approaches. For instance, in collaboration with colleagues and students, I have developed experimental interventions such as musical training, digital games, and safe, non-invasive brain stimulation aimed at enhancing learning processes in children who experience difficulties in mathematics.

My career trajectory has been more spiral than linear, spanning positions in Brazil, Portugal, Spain, and Ireland. Working in diverse academic environments has been enriching, fostering malleability, exchange, and awareness of cultural nuances. I am currently in my third academic tenured post. Although each move represented advancement, it often required restarting at a lower rank. Within the status quo, I reflect on the importance of empowering academics to recognise the value of their contributions and to negotiate their working contracts.

My vision is to develop tailored interventions for low-achieving learners, examining neural mechanisms of individual differences in maths attainment and the role of social factors in development and compensatory strategies

Despite personal and professional challenges, my outputs include several edited books and numerous co-authored articles with international collaborators, using diverse methods and samples. Alongside extending my music science research, I aim to build an interdisciplinary team using cognitive, affective, and behavioural neuroscience to address real-world challenges in mathematical cognition across the lifespan. My vision is to develop tailored interventions for low-achieving learners, examining neural mechanisms of individual differences in maths attainment and the role of social factors in development and compensatory strategies. Crucially, interventions must be multilayered; without engaging students, teachers, parents, and policymakers, meaningful improvements in mathematics education are unlikely.

Mathematics has offered many rewarding and memorable moments. One particularly humbling experience occurred at an event organised by the Institute of Physics of the United Kingdom and Ireland, where, during parallel sessions, a physicist cancelled her presentation to attend my talk on mathematics anxiety, enabling a shared discussion across STEM and social science fields. Another honour was being featured in Irish Maths Wall Calendar (2016–2024), published by the Annals of Irish Mathematics and Mathematicians, alongside outstanding contributors to the field.

Most projects I have led or co-led focus on improving mathematics education, supported by the Irish Research Council, the Leverhulme Trust, and Erasmus+. The Arithmós Project, for example, produced resources including a cartoon video, teacher workshops, a digital game intervention, and policy briefs. This work led to my participation in Games for Change, organised by UNESCO and hosted at Rubika in India, where I highlighted the importance of multilayered approaches in game-based learning and the need for collaboration between game developers and cognitive researchers to produce sound content for mathematics education.

I believe careers in neuroscience should be accessible and attainable; most pathways still favour elites and do not globally capitalise on talents

At UCL, I contribute to research and teaching in cognitive and developmental neuroscience. I also serve as an Athena Swan representative, supporting gender equality in academia. I collaborate internationally across East Asia, Europe, and more recently Africa, and support students in developing rigorous, globally relevant research.

I believe careers in neuroscience should be accessible and attainable; most pathways still favour elites and do not globally capitalise on talents. That is why I led initiatives such as Brain and Maths in Ibero América, which freely boosted the visibility of Latin American researchers. I also engaged with mentorship programmes such as Black in Neuro, ALBA Network, and Society for the Improvement of Psychological Sciences, as early career researchers benefit from role models. Furthermore, I have served a two-year term as Chair of the Mathematical Cognition and Learning Society, fostering an inclusive international community of more than 400 researchers grounded in integrity, open science, and pipeline knowledge.

Looking back, I would encourage my younger self to seek advice more often; mentorship helps you to skip unnecessary steps. I would again embrace translational research and remain open to combining different professionals and interests, such as music and maths, as many meaningful advances in my work have emerged from bridging fields. I aspire to build a legacy through a meaningful academic career, contribute to the science of learning, and support and inspire students, particularly those who may not see themselves represented in academia.

Published on September 2, 2026.

Posted by HMS in Stories
Johanna Grames

Johanna Grames

Born in Lower Austria • Birth year 1989 • Studied Mathematical Economics at TU Wien in Vienna, Austria • PhD in Mathematical Economics from TU Wien in Vienna, Austria • Lives in Vienna, Austria • Team Lead Global Governmental Affairs & Patient Advocacy, AOP Health

Mathematics has always felt like the most fascinating language to me.
You can express so much, so precisely, in just a few lines.
I was motivated by describing relationships and implications — understanding how things influence each other and getting closer to some form of truth. At the same time, I always wanted my work to have a positive impact on the world: grounded in evidence, but guided by empathy.
When I discovered optimal decision-making in a special course at school (Sommerakademie Semmering), I realised mathematics could do both. It offered beauty and challenge, while also helping to solve real-world problems.
During my PhD, I worked on socio-economic models combining natural systems and human behaviour. I developed equilibrium models and optimal decision frameworks to understand how people interact with their environment — and how decisions shape outcomes.

The questions were no longer theoretical — they influenced whether patients would eventually receive treatment

I enjoyed research, but I wanted to see decisions happening in reality, not only as policy recommendations presented at scientific conferences.
Almost by coincidence, I moved into the pharmaceutical industry — a place where passionate smart people work together towards meaningful progress: therapies for patients.
As a child, I had already been fascinated by the human body and even dreamed of becoming a brain researcher.
Instead of modelling societies, I started modelling decisions inside a company:
Which therapy should be developed?
How do we allocate resources under uncertainty?
What is the value of a treatment for patients and healthcare systems?
Using tools such as risk-adjusted net present value calculations (the “gold standard”  to calculate a complex business case for investment decisions for research and development), mathematical thinking is part of research and development decisions. The questions were no longer theoretical — they influenced whether patients would eventually receive treatment.

Today, I work at the interface of science, policy and society, bringing together companies, patient organisations and institutions

Over time, my role evolved.
I combined my passion for enabling others and creating societal impact with my experience in healthcare decision-making, moving into governmental affairs and patient advocacy.
Today, I work at the interface of science, policy and society, bringing together companies, patient organisations and institutions.
My mathematical background helps me translate between perspectives:

  • researchers think in mechanisms
  • policymakers think in systems
  • companies think in strategies
  • patients think in lived realities

Mathematics trained me to structure complexity — but empathy makes solutions work.

Projects are very different. One example was e.g. to train journalists and policy makers on how companies make investment decisions for rare disease research. Based on rare disease prevalence, existing knowledge, alternative therapies and probabilities of success for different stages of clinical studies and pharmaceutical development we outlined the complexity and challenges to foster public private partnerships on national and European level to kick off research for the 95% of rare diseases without any treatment.

Diverse perspectives improve models, research and innovation, both in academia and industry

Outside work, I stay close to people: sports, music, dialogue initiatives and mentoring.
These activities may seem unrelated to mathematics, yet they rely on the same skills — listening, understanding structures and connecting ideas.
My vision is simple: equitable access to opportunities leads to better decisions.
Diverse perspectives improve models, research and innovation, both in academia and industry.
I am always happy to exchange experiences, because role models matter. Often, seeing a possible path is the first step to imagining your own.

You do not need to know where mathematics will lead you.
Curiosity and the courage to follow it are enough.
And choose your mentors wisely. There are many inspiring people in academia and industry who can strengthen your skills and help you grow along exciting paths.

Published on March 25, 2026.

Photo credit: private, background with DALL·E

Posted by HMS in Stories
Aleksandra Brodowy

Aleksandra Brodowy

Born in Poland • Birth year 2000 • Studied Mathematics at Vrije Universiteit in Amsterdam, the Netherlands • Bachelor of Science in Mathematics from Vrije Universiteit in Amsterdam, the Netherlands • Lives in Amsterdam, the Netherlands • Account Manager at the LEGO Group and currently doing a Master of Science in Mathematics from Vrije Universiteit in Amsterdam, the Netherlands

I have been drawn to mathematics throughout most of my education. It was always my favourite subject, I spent a lot of time studying it, and I even participated in various mathematical competitions during secondary school. Despite all of this, somehow I never had the courage to do it “for real”. Math is not an easy subject, so most of the opinions that I heard about it growing up were that it’s dull, hard, and “you anyways cannot do anything with it”, so why would I even bother pursuing it?

The first time I started seriously considering studying mathematics, I was in the first year of a completely different degree. I was in a new country, I had just started a part-time job at a store to be able to pay for university, and I did not particularly enjoy the study I was enrolled in. Then one day, while I was at work, I started a conversation with one of the customers who eventually started telling me about a degree in mathematics she was doing. I was so intrigued by the things she said that a few days later we ended up talking about ring theory over ramen. Her excitement about the subject and the topics she was explaining were so fascinating that I finally decided to give it a try, this time for real. Fast forward two years from that moment, I was in the second year of a mathematics bachelor’s degree doing the same course she told me about that day.

Ever since I started studying mathematics, I never looked back, and until now I have not been able to find another discipline that would be nearly as compelling.

Ever since I started studying mathematics, I never looked back, and until now I have not been able to find another discipline that would be nearly as compelling. For me, one of the best things about mathematics is the wide range of disciplines it touches – there is always another topic that can intrigue you.

At the beginning of my academic journey, I was primarily interested in the theoretical field of mathematics and spent a lot of time studying abstract algebra. I found it particularly appealing because it was something completely new and a type of math that I had never previously seen in school. At the same time, understanding group and ring theory was relatively difficult, and the fact that I could do it gave me a lot of satisfaction.

Later on, I started pursuing more applied subjects within mathematics and realised that the intersection of academia and real-life problems is something I would like to explore further. I switched gears and started focusing on data analysis and statistical modelling. I ventured into the world of profile hidden Markov models, which I ended up researching for my thesis.

If there is one thing I have learned while navigating the twists and turns of this discipline, it is that not limiting yourself to a single field allows you to discover unexpected connections and directions.

After graduating from the bachelor’s degree, I landed a data analysis internship working for the LEGO Group, where I could not only put the mathematical skills to practice but also explore the areas of business and optimisation. I had the opportunity to continue at the company in a commercial role, where I am currently still working as an Account Manager. The shift from academia to a commercial position took my mind off theoretical mathematics for the past three years. The role was a chance to work in a new environment, interact with completely different challenges, and develop a new set of skills. I realised that I quite like getting out of my comfort zone and having difficult business discussions with clients.

Nevertheless, from the beginning, I knew that the bachelor’s degree was not the end of my academic journey. Last September, after nearly three years away from university, I started a master’s degree in mathematics alongside my professional work. I am very privileged to be in a position where I get to interact with two groups of people who have completely different mindsets – one very academic and rigorous, the other very business and results-oriented. My work definitely deepened my mathematical interests. In my current role, I do a lot of sales forecasting, which, in my opinion, is a very natural bridge between mathematical modelling and uncertainty quantifications. And so my academic focus once again shifted, this time from statistical models to studies of uncertainty and risk analysis.

My math story is far from over—it is a continuous learning process. If there is one thing I have learned while navigating the twists and turns of this discipline, it is that not limiting yourself to a single field allows you to discover unexpected connections and directions.

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Tabitha Rajashekar

Tabitha Rajashekar

Born in Narsapur, Andhra Pradesh, India • Birth Year 1975 • MSc in Mathematics at Madras Christian College, Chennai, India • PhD in Mathematics from Visvesvaraya Technological University, Belgaum, India • Lives in Bengaluru, India • Associate Professor, Department of Mathematics, Christ University, Bengaluru, India

I was born in June 1975 in Narsapur, Andhra Pradesh, India. I studied at Nirmala High School, a prestigious school in the quiet town of Machilipatnam. When I was around 10 years old, I had the privilege of learning from a brilliant teacher who taught mathematics at my school and would occasionally read a story during class. Mathematics did not excite me much, but I fell in love with reading, most specifically, literature. Since the teachers who taught me mathematics in high school were strict, I dreaded my math teachers more than the subject itself. Some of the teachers expressed great displeasure that I was not following the subject at all.  The fact of the matter was, I was unable to grasp the concepts. I had neglected the subject for a long time.

I realized that studying mathematics made me logical, precise and optimistic in life. The subject helped me gain the confidence and skills to achieve much more than I ever aspired to.

Though I made efforts, I could not follow the subject at all. With time, I became cold and distant with mathematics. Being a mathematics teacher herself, my mother insisted that studying mathematics was essential until a certain point in a student’s life. Heeding her advice, I pursued mathematics. Though I struggled initially, I did not give up and made persistent efforts to learn it.  When I noticed in the first class of my undergraduate studies that a peer of mine performed very well in the mathematics class, I approached her for help, seeking guidance on strategies for learning the subject rather than on what to learn. In a couple of days that I spent with her, I picked up the skills to teach myself the subject and figure things out. There was no looking back since then. Gradually, I began to feel that mathematics was very interesting and not difficult to score well in. But love for mathematics developed much later during my Master’s as I learnt courses like abstract algebra and number theory. 

Why teaching?

I still cannot decide what I love the most: Is it the subject of mathematics, or is it the joy of teaching it, or is it the excitement of learning mathematics?

As much as I felt intimidated by my teachers, I was in awe of them as well. So much so that I made up my mind to become a teacher very early in life. I wanted to teach, and wanted my students to feel differently from how I did as a student and see me as a very approachable teacher. I also realised that the best way to learn anything was to teach someone. At every stage, I would look for peers who were struggling and volunteer to teach them. I realized that studying mathematics made me logical, precise and optimistic in life. The subject helped me gain the confidence and skills to achieve much more than I ever aspired to. I started teaching right after my postgraduation. I took maternity breaks and quit jobs whenever my presence was needed at home. But even during those breaks, I upgraded myself in academics or taught individuals so that I stayed in touch with the subject. My kids have more memories of their mummy studying rather than playing with them. But that is what gave me joy in life and kept me going. I have close to three decades of teaching experience. With great conviction, I can admit that my career in teaching is all about learning mathematics every day and getting paid for learning. I still cannot decide what I love the most: Is it the subject of mathematics, or is it the joy of teaching it, or is it the excitement of learning mathematics?

Why Graph Theory?

Years later, when I contemplated doing a PhD, I realised that graph theory was the most suitable option for me. The nature of this course is that anyone can start learning this at any point.  It is simple to learn, easy to visualise and totally captivating in mind. Completing a PhD was not an easy journey. Despite the challenges and lags, I tried my best! It was a great learning experience and a humbling one. When I started teaching again after my PhD, I took every opportunity to teach graph theory and promote research in it. 

What do I love to do?

I find great joy in teaching foundational courses such as discrete mathematics, graph theory and algebra. These courses promote a lot of dialogue in the classrooms, and I constantly learn from their queries and responses. Research in graph theory gives me a lot of fulfillment. It gives me immense pride when any of our students choose a career in teaching mathematics or research, and my joy is doubled when it is a female student. My message for future mathematicians would be to pursue the subject diligently.  Without a doubt, I can say that teaching mathematics gives us a sense of purpose and a sense of great pride. 

Published on April 22, 2026

Photo Credit: Tabitha Rajashekar

Posted by HMS in Stories
Mikaela Iacobelli

Mikaela Iacobelli

Born in Giulianova, Italy • Birth year 1987 • Studied Mathematics at Sapienza University of Rome, Italy • PhD in Mathematics from Sapienza University of Rome and École Polytechnique in Paris • Lives in Zürich, Switzerland • Associate Professor of Mathematics at ETH Zürich

I was born in a small town on the Adriatic coast, Giulianova (Italy), where I lived with my family until the end of high school. As a child I was very curious and I loved reading; at school I enjoyed many subjects, without feeling particularly drawn to mathematics. Outside school, however, my real passion was figure skating, and for years I was completely absorbed by sport.

During high school, while I was changing my mind many times about what I wanted to study at university (from humanities to engineering to medicine), I also had a bad injury that made me stop figure skating, and this forced me to think seriously about what I could do if I could no longer be an athlete. Around the same time, at the beginning of high school, I encountered my first proofs in Euclidean geometry, and the very concept of proof fascinated me immediately.

Then, in my last year of high school, a teacher lent me the books by Henri Poincaré on non-Euclidean geometry, and that was decisive for me, because it made mathematics feel much larger than the standard school programme; it showed me that one can develop concepts with strong internal coherence and genuine beauty even when they are not tied to something directly visible, and study them for their own sake, not because of immediate utility.

(…) I became truly passionate about algebra, especially representation theory, because I was attracted by the beauty of symmetry and by the feeling that, once you find the right structure, complicated objects become understandable

Long story made short, I moved to Rome and started a Bachelor in Mathematics at Sapienza University, and it is there that I became truly passionate about algebra, especially representation theory, because I was attracted by the beauty of symmetry and by the feeling that, once you find the right structure, complicated objects become understandable. During my Bachelor and Master I specialised in algebra, although at the same time I was also fascinated by mathematical physics, which remained, for a while, a parallel interest rather than my main direction.

Towards the end of my Master, I decided to apply for a PhD in a different area, namely kinetic theory and PDEs, and in November 2012 I started a joint PhD between Sapienza University of Rome and École Polytechnique (Paris). Since I had to adapt quickly, both mathematically and personally, I remember that period as intense: you learn new tools, you learn a new language, and you also live with the constant uncertainty that comes with academic transitions, where the next step is never fully guaranteed.

(…) what I like in [Vlasov-Poisson] questions is the interaction between several scales: you start from a microscopic description (many particles), and you try to understand what kind of macroscopic behaviour can emerge, and why

The PhD became even more demanding because I changed topic between the first and the second year, which meant that I started the thesis “for real” only in autumn 2013, while I defended in December 2015. In spite of the stress, I was also lucky, because I ended up working on problems that genuinely interested me, such as quantization of measures and, later, quasineutral limits for the Vlasov-Poisson equation. Even if the technical details are not the point of this story, what I like in these questions is the interaction between several scales: you start from a microscopic description (many particles), and you try to understand what kind of macroscopic behaviour can emerge, and why.

After the PhD my path continued through several moves, and the places I studied and worked in have shaped me in very concrete ways: Paris during the PhD, then Cambridge, then Durham, and finally Zürich, where I am now based at ETH. Before each move there is the application phase, with deadlines and interviews, and with the need to accept that sometimes things simply do not work out; in that period you often do not know in which country, city, or department you will end up next. Then, once you move, the relocation itself is a restart: you build a new routine, you make new friendships, you try to integrate into a new department, and you adjust to a different academic culture. At the same time, I have very fond memories of all the departments where I have worked, and I have kept meaningful contacts in each of those places.

In mathematics, being wrong is normal, because it is part of the creative process, and it is often the only way to understand what is really going on

At times, I also experienced environments that were highly competitive and not particularly welcoming, and, as a woman, I sometimes had the feeling that belonging was conditional; over time I learned not to use that atmosphere as a measure of my value, and to focus instead on good mathematics and collaboration.

Over the years I have also learned something very simple, which I now repeat often to students: in mathematics, being wrong is normal, because it is part of the creative process, and it is often the only way to understand what is really going on. For the same reason, I do not think that speed is a good proxy for depth. What matters more, at least for me, is steady work, genuine curiosity, and the habit of writing and explaining with care, trying to make the argument readable rather than to impress.

(…) I care a lot about creating an atmosphere where asking questions feels natural rather than embarrassing

What I love most about my job is teaching and, more broadly, supporting students and postdocs in their path. I enjoy the moment in which something difficult becomes understandable, and I care a lot about creating an atmosphere where asking questions feels natural rather than embarrassing. When students write to me again after years to tell me about their next steps and their achievements, I feel genuinely fulfilled.

Alongside teaching and mentoring, I also like the research side in a very concrete way: choosing a problem and trying to understand it seriously, reading beautiful mathematics done by others, and writing with care in a way that I would still be happy to read myself a year later. I also enjoy moving between topics and borrowing techniques from different areas, because this often helps me look at a familiar question from a new angle.

Looking back, my path has not been linear, and I changed direction more than once; however, what has stayed constant is curiosity, even when the topics and the places were changing. This is also what I like most about mathematics: there is room for many different trajectories, as long as you keep following questions that genuinely interest you.

Published on February 25, 2026.

Photo credit: Giulia Marthaler Fotografie on behalf of ETH

Posted by HMS in Stories
Christina Runkel

Christina Runkel

Born in Neuwied, Germany • Studied Computer Science at Cooperative State University Mannheim • PhD in Mathematics of Information at the University of Cambridge  • Lives in Oslo, Norway • Postdoctoral Research Fellow at University of Oslo

My interest in mathematics started as a young child and stayed with me throughout my school years. I remember particularly enjoying maths in the final years of school because of our very friendly and motivated teacher. He encouraged me to have a closer look at STEM subjects and maths in particular when trying to decide what to study at university. I could not decide between computer science and maths at first, but ended up doing computer science because of a cooperative study programme that allowed me to study and work at the same time; offering financial stability and practical skills. I ended up working at IBM in Germany where I was lucky enough to be able to choose from a large pool of projects for each of the six internships that were part of the Bachelor’s programme. While mostly focusing on IT consulting internships in my first year, I got the opportunity to work on a research project in a research lab in California in my second year – where I helped to develop new machine learning methods for chat bots – which encouraged me to go more into research for my final two internships, too.

During my Master’s it then became very obvious to me that I really enjoyed doing research and was mostly interested in the maths courses and aspects, which is why I decided to switch to applied maths for my PhD.

While really enjoying the internships that were part of my Bachelor’s programme at the Cooperative State University in Mannheim, I quickly realised that I wanted to get a deeper insight into the „traditional“ student life. My Bachelor’s programme was very structured with little opportunity to choose courses and attendance at lectures was compulsory and I always envied my friends at other universities who had a lot more freedom. Due to the tight connection of my Bachelor’s programme to companies, the curriculum was very applied with little opportunity to do any research. When deciding on a Master’s programme, those ended up being the two main motivations for me to switch to studying a regular computer science degree. During my Master’s it then became very obvious to me that I really enjoyed doing research and was mostly interested in the maths courses and aspects, which is why I decided to switch to applied maths for my PhD. 

Throughout my PhD I always most enjoyed going to workshops and conferences.

Having had the opportunity to combine my Master’s thesis with a research visit in the Cambridge Image Analysis group at the Department of Applied Mathematics and Theoretical Physics in Cambridge, I got a better understanding of the PhD system in the UK and decided to move to England for my PhD. While most PhDs in Germany are tied to a specific project, the prospect of being part of a doctoral training programme which allows for a lot of freedom sounded very convincing to me. Having been funded by a departmental studentship, I got to work on several projects from a broad range of topics like machine learning theory, privacy and security in machine learning, inverse problems and operator learning. Throughout my PhD I always most enjoyed going to workshops and conferences. I was lucky enough to be able to travel to conferences all over the world like Singapore, Japan, the US, Italy and Germany. 

Coming to Cambridge as an international student, I particularly enjoyed being part of a college community with the opportunity to meet people from all over the world and different subjects. While my friend group in both my Bachelor’s and Master’s mainly consisted of people studying computer science, maths and physics, my friend group during my PhD was much more diverse. This is also due to the fact that I started rowing as a new sport when coming to Cambridge which facilitated meeting even more people including undergraduate students of all years.

While I was not interested in image analysis yet at that time, the professor’s enthusiasm for the topic rubbed off on me and motivated me to choose a computer vision project for a one year project that was mandatory as part of my degree. 

Thinking about the most memorable moments of my studies, it was the people who motivated and inspired me most. If it was professors speaking very passionately about a certain subject during lectures or PhD students supervising projects – seeing other people’s interest for the subject always motivated me to keep looking into different fields of maths. I still remember walking into one of my first lectures in my Master’s which was part of a deep learning course. While I was not interested in image analysis yet at that time, the professor’s enthusiasm for the topic rubbed off on me and motivated me to choose a computer vision project for a one year project that was mandatory as part of my degree. 

I also was fortunate enough to have been surrounded by supportive and inspirational people all throughout my Master’s and PhD who encouraged me to go for the next step and believe in myself. Especially as a woman in a very male dominated field, being surrounded by female role models and being supported by both male and female peers and professors made a big difference for me. When starting my PhD, I tried to pass some of this on by being part of mentoring programmes for female and non-binary undergraduates and students. I was both a mentor at the Faculty of Mathematics in Cambridge where we had termly in-person coffee meetings with the mentees and for pupils in Germany via the Cybermentor programme, which offers the opportunity to mentor female and non-binary pupils remotely.  Becoming part of a mentoring scheme is also some of the advice I would give to my 18-year-old self too — to look out for networking opportunities and mentorship programmes; to find people who have chosen a similar path. 

I am now very excited to start my new position as a Postdoctoral Research Fellow at the University of Oslo where I will be continuing to work on developing new methods for machine learning research.

Published on February 11, 2026



Posted by HMS in Stories
Nishu Kumari

Nishu Kumari

Born in India • Birth year 1996 • Studied M.Sc in Mathematics at the Indian Institute of Technology Kanpur • PhD in Mathematics from the Indian Institute of Science (IISc) • Lives in Vienna, Austria • PostDoctoral Researcher at the University of Vienna’s Faculty for Mathematics

I grew up in a village of Haryana, a state in Northern India. I was drawn to maths from an early age because I was good at solving maths problems. After completing college education from Haryana, I successfully passed the entrance exam for a prestigious institution in India, IIT (Indian Institute of Technology) Kanpur,  to pursue a Master’s degree in Mathematics. Since the exam is highly competitive, I consider being admitted to this institution as one of my greatest achievements.  

During my stay at IIT, I realised that maths is more about testing your understanding of concepts and less about calculations. That’s when I also realised grasping a mathematical idea gives me immense satisfaction and decided to study mathematics at a higher level.

Before my entrance exam I wasn’t even sure I would be able to rank highly enough to be admitted. It was a very big moment for my entire family when I did as I was the first person in my family to get admission at IIT . We never imagined that this would even be possible.

During my stay at IIT, I realised that maths is more about testing your understanding of concepts and less about calculations. That’s when I also realised grasping a mathematical idea gives me immense satisfaction and decided to study mathematics at a higher level. I joined the Indian Institute of Science (IISc) for my Ph.D.

After completing my doctoral studies last year, I am currently working as a postdoctoral researcher at the University of Vienna, Austria. I am part of a large research group focused on discrete random structures with my personal focus being on algebraic combinatorics. 

Algebraic combinatorics uses tools from algebra to solve problems in combinatorics, thereby acting as a bridge between the tangible world of counting objects and the abstract world of formulas. For instance, by using algebraic combinatorics we can solve everyday problems such as organising wedding seating charts where certain guests must sit together or better be kept apart, drawing up sports schedules where every team plays each other exactly once, or designing music shuffle algorithms that feel truly random by avoiding song groupings from the same artist.

I feel that many women, especially in India, might not know what exactly having a career in maths actually means or even that they can pursue a career in this field. I believe it is important to tell them that this is an option.

In terms of mathematical research, I have encountered a lot of diversity in Vienna. I have found a lot of great people to collaborate with around me, especially since our research group is fairly large with over 20 members. 

As an Indian woman in mathematics, the environment I trained in featured very few women. It was discouraging sometimes. I feel it would have helped me, if there had been more women doing what I was doing at the time.

I feel that many women, especially in India, might not know what exactly having a career in maths actually means or even that they can pursue a career in this field. I believe it is important to tell them that this is an option.

However, there have been some great ideas and steps to bring more women into existing institutions. I can see that the number of women being admitted into Indian maths institutes is increasing.

Women’s education in general is on the rise. In the village I grew up in, people weren’t keen on  women to study when I was young, but now they encourage  their girls to get an education. This is a rather unexpected side effect of the rising cost of living. As a result, women are now encouraged to pursue paid work.  

My dream for the future is to first build a career in academia. In future, I would like to return to India and work to inspire more Indian women to get involved in maths. This is my way of trying to help future generations of Indian women be more represented if they choose mathematics as their career path. 

Published on January 28, 2026.
Photo credit: Shivangi

Posted by HMS in Stories
Lisa Hefendehl-Hebeker

Lisa Hefendehl-Hebeker

Born in Germany • Birth year 1948 • Studied Mathematics at the Universities of Münster and Tübingen • Habilitation in Mathematics • Lives in Düsseldorf, Germany • Senior Professor of Mathematics Education at the University of Duisburg-Essen

I enjoyed math at school because I was good at the problems and really liked the inner clarity and regularity of the subject.

The transition to university mathematics was extremely difficult for me at first because I had to overcome a huge gap. But after a year, I made a breakthrough, and from then on, I gained a foothold and my appreciation for the subject grew steadily. 

I had my first experience of deep amazement when I was preparing for a linear algebra exam. When studying Jordan normal forms, I suddenly realized what a magnificent overview this provided of what initially seemed to be an overwhelming variety of matrices, and what potential mathematical theory formation can unfold in terms of intellectual organization.

The interplay between mathematical content and questions and observations about how people deal with it in work processes was to become an important guiding principle for my future career

In the second part of my studies, I had the opportunity to participate in a working group led by my future doctoral supervisor I and was able to listen to the insider communication between advanced members. This gave me important insights into what motivates professional mathematicians—which questions they find interesting and which methods and results they consider remarkable, how they base their assessments on these, but also which informal, often metaphorical means of communication they use in the run-up to formally elaborate representations. These experiences have greatly enriched my relationship with mathematics. The interplay between mathematical content and questions and observations about how people deal with it in work processes was to become an important guiding principle for my future career.

It so happened that I was assigned a dissertation topic that also involved a classification problem (four-dimensional quadratic division algebras over p-adic fields), and so a bow was drawn back to my first experience of admiring a mathematical achievement. While working on this, I also learned how inevitably successful problem solving in mathematics can depend on the favor of a good idea. You can prepare the ground for helpful ideas through persistent work, but you cannot force them. I was very grateful that productive ideas for solutions did eventually come to me in time.

(…) I read a lot of mathematical literature and noticed with regret that, over the course of history, presentations had become more sober and formal, and that human emotions and accompanying epistemological considerations had been largely stripped away in the face of mathematical discoveries

During my doctoral studies, I read a lot of mathematical literature and noticed with regret that, over the course of history, presentations had become more sober and formal, and that human emotions and accompanying epistemological considerations had been largely stripped away in the face of mathematical discoveries. The more I missed this aspect, the more my interest grew in the question of how mathematical knowledge develops in an individual, what thought processes and attitudes play a role in this, and how consciousness is refined during these processes. These were the reasons why I turned to mathematics education after completing my doctorate, and fortunately, life gave me the opportunity to make this field my profession.

After a long career, I am convinced that at every level of learning, it is possible to create an authentic picture of mathematics and convey an impression of how mathematics forms its own world of well-ordered structures with a striking internal consistency, and how this is precisely what makes it so effective in applications.

Published on January 14, 2026.

Photo credit: FAU/Ianicelli/Aslanidis

Posted by HMS in Stories
Surya Mathialagan

Surya Mathialagan

Born in India and Grew up in Singapore • Studied Mathematics and Computer Science at Caltech • PhD in Computer Science from MIT • Lives in California, USA • Postdoctoral Researcher at NTT Research, USA

What first drew me to mathematics wasn’t numbers or formulas – it was the satisfaction of knowing why something was true. I loved puzzles and logic problems from an early age, and my parents noticed. I was extremely fortunate because they did their best to find the support I needed to keep exploring that interest and progress in the math Olympiad scene. I later represented Singapore several times in the China Girls’ Mathematical Olympiad. Those experiences drew me in. I loved the structure of Olympiad problems – the feeling that, with enough persistence, all the puzzle pieces would eventually fit. But what fascinated me most was the idea of a proof. Proofs were like perfectly tuned explanations: elegant, inevitable, and deeply satisfying. I remember learning how to write one and being amazed that something as human as convincing someone of something could be captured by precise logic.

For example, is solving a Sudoku puzzle as easy as checking that a completed Sudoku grid is valid?

During my undergraduate studies at California Institute of Technology, I learned that the idea of “proofs” also lies at the heart of theoretical computer science. I encountered the seminal P vs NP problem, which asked whether “finding a proof” (NP) is as easy as “verifying a proof” (P). For example, is solving a Sudoku puzzle as easy as checking that a completed Sudoku grid is valid? On the face of it, the former seems much more difficult – but for all we know, both tasks could be equally “easy” (i.e. NP = P). This is one of the biggest unsolved mysteries in theoretical computer science, and it drew me in with the deep mathematical ideas that had been developed to understand it. I soon decided to pursue a joint major in mathematics and computer science to explore that theory more deeply.

I could not stop thinking about this, how much can we push the limits of what a proof can look like?

Later, I took a cryptography class that introduced a concept called zero-knowledge proofs, which changed the way I viewed proofs. Proofs didn’t have to be static write-ups – they could be interactive, even conversational in some sense. With this relaxation, zero-knowledge formalized the idea of convincing someone that something is true without revealing why. For example, you could prove that you know a solution to a Sudoku without giving away the solution itself. It seemed absurd, but it was possible. I could not stop thinking about this, how much can we push the limits of what a proof can look like?

I also had the first taste of pursuing mathematics research during my time at Caltech. It was the first time mathematics felt creative rather than competitive. I had to decide for myself what questions to ask and what counted as progress. It was the first time I’d worked on something where there wasn’t a clear notion of “done.” I enjoyed the freedom that I had to choose where I wanted the project to go. I was motivated to keep doing this, and I decided to pursue a PhD in theoretical computer science. 

During my PhD at MIT, I explored more problems in theoretical computer science, and landed on a problem that I am still obsessed with: constructing succinct proofs. Like zero knowledge, succinct proofs redefine what a “proof” can look like, but in a different way – they capture the idea that you can convince someone of a complex statement using a proof that is much shorter than the statement itself. For example, could we prove that a 100 x 100 Sudoku has a solution by providing a proof containing only 128 bits, instead of 10,000? At first, this seemed completely ridiculous. How could a proof possibly be shorter than the thing it proves? It shouldn’t even be possible. But instead of assuming an all-powerful prover, if we assume the prover has limited resources, say finite time – then it actually might be.

While I was at MIT, I had the privilege of being mentored by several incredible female professors whose sharpness and confidence quietly shifted how I saw myself.

That tension between truth and feasibility made me appreciate the “engineering” side of theoretical cryptography: sometimes the goal isn’t to prove that something exists unconditionally, but to show that it can exist within realistic limits. And one doesn’t need to stop there – one could also ask for a proof to be both succinct and zero-knowledge simultaneously! Indeed, succinct zero-knowledge proofs (sometimes called zk-proofs or zk-SNARKs) are now the backbone of blockchains, allowing large computations to be verified efficiently while maintaining privacy. 

Representation shapes what seems possible, even when no one says it out loud. I feel so incredibly lucky to have crossed paths with these incredible women.

While I was at MIT, I had the privilege of being mentored by several incredible female professors whose sharpness and confidence quietly shifted how I saw myself. Watching them made it feel more plausible that I could be a researcher or academic too. Earlier in my life, during the Math Olympiad or even at Caltech, I was often one of the few girls in the room. At the time, I didn’t think much of it, but looking back, I realize how much visibility matters. Representation shapes what seems possible, even when no one says it out loud. I feel so incredibly lucky to have crossed paths with these incredible women.

Perhaps my favourite thing about doing research is that unlike Olympiad math, it doesn’t exist in a vacuum – research is deeply conversational. I’ve learned that sharing half-formed thoughts – defending, revising, and rebuilding them – is often how the most enjoyable mathematics happens. Each discussion shifts how you see the problem, and sometimes that’s enough to move it forward. I’ve also come to enjoy the part that happens after the proof is done. I enjoy giving talks, explaining the ideas to others, and seeing how they react. Good talks feel like an extension of research itself: a chance to start a conversation about mathematical ideas. 

I am now a postdoctoral researcher at NTT Research, a research lab based in California. I still work on constructing zero-knowledge succinct proofs and other related cryptography problems. Even though I work on theoretical computer science, by an ironic turn of events, much of my recent work uses traditional mathematical proofs to construct succinct proofs in the cryptographic sense. I am excited to see where else my research leads me. I hope to go into academia, where I can study these problems further. I hope that being here and doing this work helps make the field feel a little more possible for others who might not have seen themselves in it before.

Published on December 10, 2025.
Photo credit: Asaf Etgar

Posted by HMS in Stories