In Spring 2025, I took the FSE 301: Entrepreneurship and Value Creation class. From the very first day, what stood out to me was the emphasis of the difference between a venture and any other kind of project: namely, making money. By no means does this mean that the goal is simply to maximize profits, or even that the venture should be money-motivated, but that at each step, the people involved in the venture must be thinking about how those who invest in the end result or use it will see value in the project. This principle not only applies to founding a business, but in pursuing goals such as research or promoting social wellness in communities — areas which I am deeply drawn to.
I find that my “why” is to connect people in a way that allows them to see the importance of shared ideas in a way that builds community. For most of my life, this has largely been in academic context, such as organizing events for teams to build connections to make progress in a scientific field, mentoring students in various lab-based classes by asking them questions that make them discuss with one another and diagnose their weak points together, and presenting posters at conferences with the hopes of exchanging otherwise difficult-to-find insights. However, I believe that the greatest opportunity domain in creating connected communities is in the informal sphere, where people are not trying to meet a professional goal. Therefore, as part of FSE 301, I joined the 501(c)3 nonprofit Out There Social Club, planning events ranging from karaoke to competitive cooking to give students a new environment to make friends without financial obstacles, and engaging with many potential sponsors for funding to deliver value to both them and students. See below to learn more!
Is there not often a disillusionment that sets in with one's work, so that we think, “Does what I’m doing actually matter to anyone? Am I just wasting people’s time?” We need to start by reexamining the question of how we define value—not by meeting arbitrary deadlines and fulfilling budgets, but by actually delivering benefit to the end users, investors, or customers. And such a goal cannot be pursued in isolation, but through constant communication, continually checking our assumptions at every step along the way: asking what people want in the first place, defining and redefining scope and criteria based on what people actually need or have a problem with, and checking in with the person we want to deliver value to multiple times along the development process. We might need to let go of trying to run after every personal interest in order to hone in more on consumer-oriented goals or projects.
For what is innovation? Thomas Edison’s defined it as “working the problem”—not looking for some big idea or creativity switch. The motivating question must always be at the center—the equipment to study it with, or the models built, are pieced together from what is already available in the environment, whether previous literature or recent technologies. And once even the motivation and the general framework for methodology have been determined, the work must be executed with often tedious labor. There are always obstacles and unexpected results—these little things that bug us are exactly where creativity and endurance must enter in, or else all the previous efforts are nullified. Finishing a project, even when the improvement seems so incremental and not world-shattering, is perhaps the greatest challenge.
As a Grand Challenges Scholar focused on engineering better medicines, these entrepreneurial principles help frame my work: Biomedical innovation cannot exist in a vacuum; it must be built around the lived experiences of patients, the challenges faced by physicians, and the broader healthcare ecosystem, including the moving of money — such as understanding insurance and investments. As a researcher, I must also carefully choose my questions and approach —not just making a concept that “sounds good in theory” but ensuring validated learning at every step through continual communication with physicians, patients, and stakeholders. True impact in medicine and engineering comes from human-centered design, where technology is developed not simply for progress itself, but to meaningfully improve lives.
At its core, Out There Social Club isn’t just about getting people to go out—it’s about reshaping the way we think about social connection as a form of value. In a world where loneliness is becoming a public health crisis, this initiative turns casual outings into something more intentional, fostering real-world connection through structured incentives.
What makes this model so compelling is that it aligns money-oriented business goals with genuine social impact. Sponsors aren’t just advertising—they’re actively funding experiences that combat isolation, positioning their brands as enablers of something bigger than commerce. Meanwhile, students aren’t just consuming; they’re building a community, making shared experiences more accessible, and reinforcing the importance of real-life interactions.
This is what entrepreneurship should be about: not just solving a problem, but creating something that shifts behavior for the better. Out There Social Club is a movement wrapped in a business model, proving that social well-being and economic opportunity don’t have to compete—they can amplify each other.