If you had told my freshman-year self that I’d one day be the President of Woburn High School’s Model United Nations club, leading the largest delegation in our school’s history to an international conference, I would’ve laughed. Not because I didn’t believe in myself, but because back then, I was terrified to even public-speak.
Model UN is all about stepping into someone else’s shoes. You take on the role of a diplomat, representing a country and advocating for its stance on major global issues—migration, refugees, radioactive waste, aviation, you name it. You’re placed in a committee where you negotiate, debate, and collaborate with other delegates to form alliances and pass resolutions. The goal is to work together toward international solutions.
But beyond diplomacy and resolutions, Model UN is an exercise in putting yourself out there. It’s standing up in a room full of 50 other students—some of whom might be seasoned veterans, intimidatingly well-researched, or just naturally confident public speakers—and finding your own voice among them. It’s taking a risk every time you raise your placard to speak, knowing that you might stumble over your words, get challenged, or even outright fail.
My First Conference: A Lesson in Pushing Through Fear
Freshman year, I sat in my first-ever Model UN conference, absolutely frozen. I barely spoke. I barely understood what was happening. The idea of standing up and giving a speech made my heart race. But I did it anyway. I fumbled through a few words, got nervous, and sat back down, but I had done it. I had taken that first step.
That was all it took to realize how powerful public speaking could be. I saw how much being knowledgeable, articulate, and confident could shape not just a debate, but the way people saw you and the way you saw yourself. From that moment on, I pushed myself to speak more, research harder, and embrace discomfort.
That experience changed the way I approached life outside of Model UN, too. It gave me the confidence to lead speeches for Inclusive Eats, the nonprofit I helped launch, where I now advocate for culturally relevant food aid programs. It gave me the courage to stand in front of crowds and give speeches at vigils about gun violence as president of the MEARA Team for the Shannon Lee Meara Foundation. It taught me how to connect with people, how to make my voice heard, and how to take risks even when I wasn’t sure how things would turn out.
Opening the Doors for Others
This year, my first as President of Model UN, I had one goal: to give as many students as possible the opportunity to experience what I had.
In past years, our club had been limited by costs. The cost of attending a conference in Boston is expensive, which is an understatement. Staying in a hotel, registration fees, transportation—it all adds up. We had to cap our sign-ups, only allowing returning members, a couple of new ones, and turning away most students who wanted to join.
I didn’t want that to be the case anymore. I knew from Inclusive Eats that if you believe in something strongly enough, you find a way to fund it. So I took a risk—just like Model UN had taught me to—and decided to delegate out club to fundraise like never before.
We raised over $10,000.
We did bake sales. We ran raffles. And as a student pilot, I even held a raffle where the winner got to take a private flight with me over Boston and Woburn. That single raffle alone raised over $900—and got the whole school involved.
Our club was on the map in a big way. People noticed. They donated. The school backed us. And by the end of it, we had raised enough money to cover nearly the entire cost for every single delegate.
This meant that for the first time ever, we brought 32 delegates to the conference—the largest delegation in Woburn history.
Many of those 32 students were attending their first-ever conference, just like I had as a freshman. And I knew how scary that could be. So I made sure to train them, to mentor them, to give them all the tips and tricks I had learned over the years. I wanted them to feel confident from the start, not spend half the conference in fear like I once had.
Of course, I also reminded them that failure is part of the experience. That stumbling over your words, getting lost in debate, and struggling to find your voice is normal. That it’s not about being perfect—it’s about taking the risk to speak in the first place.
Because at the end of the day, that’s what Model UN has always been about for me. Taking the risk. Putting yourself out there. Advocating for yourself and for others.
And this year, I’m proud to say I did exactly that.
I took a chance to make Model UN more inclusive. I took a chance on pushing our club to its limits. I took a chance on a new generation of delegates.
And that chance paid off.
Now, when I look at our club, I don’t just see students representing countries in debate. I see leaders in the making, stepping up, finding their voices, and taking risks of their own.
And I couldn’t be prouder.