Courage Cohort

Gauri Kanakkancheril Binup

Plan II Honors, International Relations and Global Studies

I became a Dedman scholar as a sophomore, so to win the race against impostor syndrome, it was my goal to develop connections with those whom I looked up to. In the process, I realized there are communities to cherish all around me.

Perhaps the most unassuming of such communities are classrooms. In going from office hours to exploring downtown Austin, I grew closer to peers and mentors. I feel especially indebted to my classmates and professors in the UT Chinese program, who supported me throughout my journey to receive generous academic support in the form of the Bill and Tomiko Kennedy Memorial Endowed Presidential Scholarship for 2026-2027. I’m also very grateful that my mentor Dr. Julia Mickenberg has let me pester her long after taking her Plan II Signature Course, College and Controversy, and has given me the full-circle moment of helping teach the same class as a Signature Course Academic Fellow in Fall 2026.

I also joined a new kind of community through the Undergraduate Research Apprenticeship Program. Under the guidance of Dr. Kate Weaver, Dr. Dan Nielson, and Research Fellow Joseph Amoah in the Innovations for Peace and Development (IPD) Lab, investigation into Malawian democracy and development programs turned into so much more. We spoke with eminent scholars researching Malawi, such as Dr. Michael Wahman, and interviewed civil society leaders such as Viwemi Chavula, Executive Director of the Center for Civil Society Strengthening, and Hellen Chabunya, Vice President of the United Transformation Movement. Their conviction that research translates into actionable advocacy reignited my love for scholarship. In line with their missions, we designed research that promotes civic education and mentoring in Malawi, particularly for young women considering political leadership. Our little community in the IPD Lab connected with communities thousands of miles away, and it was an honor to share their stories as part of our cohort’s Spring 2026 panel presentation.

In between research and exams, the Dedman lounge became a sanctuary. I’m always moved by the Courage Cohort’s dedication and good humor. And beyond my cohort, conversations with recently-graduated scholars led me to join the Mellon Mays Undergraduate Fellowship, where I’m fortunate to work with my endlessly insightful faculty mentor, Dr. Stephanie Holmsten, on research in comparative education and civil society. This year, I hope to return even a fraction of her kindness as I assist with her team’s Gender and Ethnicity in Elections (GEE) Dataset.

In March 2026, I attended the National Parent Teacher Association (PTA) Legislative Convention as one of two Youth Representatives on the National Board of Directors. In D.C., advocating in the House and Senate for about half a million Texas PTA members, each representing their own communities, was a tremendous privilege to be trusted with. I personally spoke in favor of the Children and Teens’ Online Privacy Protection Act (COPPA) 2.0, and it was incredible to see the bill pass by unanimous consent in the Senate the day after our convention. Knowing that PTA stood alongside other advocates for children at such a critical period was a powerful form of togetherness.

This became one of many formative experiences that motivated me to run for the National PTA’s Nominating and Leadership Recruitment Committee (NLRC). Despite my doubts about joining a contested race against seasoned public servants, many PTA delegates resonated with my campaign speech at the 2026 National Convention. Upon securing over 90% of the vote, the highest share among all elected positions, I was awash with gratitude. I can’t wait to spend my three-year term on the NLRC paying everyone’s support forward by mentoring advocates to stand with me, then take my place.

While at UT, it’s been wonderful to shape and be shaped by communities. I’m learning how research, mentorship, and camaraderie pay us back infinitely. Moving forward, I hope to continue holding onto stories from people I admire, and to share them with those in need of a little inspiration.

Vennela Mallampati

Plan II Honors, Government

I write this from a small, intimate coffee shop somewhere north of my hometown, Frisco. It’s blindingly bright outside – Texas summers carry with them unbearable heat – but I can spot sunflowers in the distance. I look to my other side, and I’m sitting next to my best friend in the whole world as she’s hunched over her laptop, studying intently for her MCAT. As I’m writing this sentence, she’s leaned over on my shoulder, blowing me a kiss upon reading my mention of her. Although I might not be in as interesting a place as my fellow Dedmans—who are, no doubt, traveling the world and leaving their beautifully idiosyncratic footprints on cities I’ve only ever seen in pictures—I can honestly say that I would not rather be anywhere else.

For me, a majority of this year was marked by homesickness. My brain was wracked with an intense, protracted longing for the past—past versions of me, people I’d left behind, a memory of a kinder, more hopeful America, and the safety and strange unity that comes from only having meaningfully lived in one place for your entire life. Amidst a soundtrack almost exclusively composed of Fleetwood Mac’s Landslide and Change by Alex G, I split in two, my body in Austin and my heart nostalgically nestled in my childhood home from three years ago. It is not a good feeling to feel rejected by the city that raised you, and I unfortunately know it all too well. My Dedman friends, Devon, Gauri, and Dr. Herman, can attest well to this—I frequently came to our cohort meetings agonizing over this strange feeling, and I cannot express how grateful I am to them for easing that heartbreak, even temporarily.

Stevie Nicks’ heart-rending, shaky-voiced question haunted my thoughts many a late night this year—“Can I handle the seasons of my life?” I remember using that lyric as the opening for my personal introduction at our annual November dinner at the Dedman family’s home. Freshman year was an era of burgeoning, blossoming growth, but sophomore year felt anything but. By all conventional, LinkedIn-esque metrics of the like, I was advancing, but personally, I felt like I was regressing so rapidly that I was held in this strange limbo.

That is not to say that my year was not fulfilling. At Annie’s List, I worked proactively, recruiting and supporting progressive women candidates running for statewide office, in hopes of electing better leadership that would rectify the flagrant offenses on women’s rights committed by Texas’ current government. For 10 hours a week, my work gave me hope. But interning in the office of State Senator Sarah Eckhardt imbued me with perspective on the immediate grief that everyone around me—and America as a whole—was experiencing. I spent my days communicating with constituents in Austin, trying to help them navigate severely broken systems. Some were on the brink of homelessness, some called asking for help locating family members who had been abducted and detained by ICE, while one man pleaded for help to report the medical abuse he suffered at a mental health facility that he had thought would help him get better. Senseless horrors unfolded, first on the news and then at home, as classmates began walking in fear of masked ICE agents patrolling campus streets, as my hometown’s city council meetings became a national stage for rampant anti-Asian sentiment, and as, in one terrifying incident in early March, an armed man walked around West Campus apartments threatening South Asian and Muslim women. To put it candidly, it felt like the world, too, was regressing alongside me.

It was in that pessimistic mindset that I began searching for opportunities that felt more hopeful and forward-facing. Naturally, I gravitated towards things that felt familiar, that firmly, tangibly lived in my history and my blood—reproductive rights and Asian American advocacy. This May, I had the pleasure of participating in Asian Americans Advancing Justice’s Youth Ambassador Cohort, where I designed an interfaith activism toolkit geared towards religious leaders in the communities that I grew up in. It was cathartic—getting to examine and honor my roots and use them to push my way forward.

As summer comes to a close, and so does my time back in Frisco (and as does this bio), I find my thoughts frequently coming back to fragments of a poem written by an old friend I no longer speak to. I can’t remember the words exactly, but it says something beautifully profound about senseless violence and then closes with something along the lines of “I believe in senseless comforts too / I believe the wind carries some of us home.”

Devon Stevenson

Liberal Arts Honors, Government, Humanities

My second year at UT felt like a lesson in how quickly one opportunity can lead to another. Debate remained one of the most important parts of my life on campus. I qualified for my second National Debate Tournament and placed fourth at districts, but what meant the most was realizing how differently I approached the activity than I had as a freshman. I had become a better researcher and speaker, but also a more patient teammate and a person more willing to be wrong. That same spring, I stepped into a very different kind of competition when I served as campaign manager for two fellow Dedman Scholars running for student body president and vice president. Campus elections were exciting, exhausting, and occasionally surreal. I loved the strategy of it, but even more, I loved bringing people together around a shared vision and watching that vision resonate with students across campus.

After the campaign succeeded, I joined the administration and was later promoted to Chief of Staff of UT Austin Student Government. The role has given me a new view of leadership. Much of the work is not glamorous. It is answering messages, keeping people organized, and making sure a large team can move in the same direction. In a very different setting, I returned to Vinson & Elkins for another summer internship. Because I already understood the firm and its culture, I was able to approach the experience with greater confidence and ask better questions. Both experiences showed me how much of institutional life happens behind the scenes, through collaboration and attention to detail.

The summer also took me far beyond the Forty Acres. In Rome, I studied food politics, a subject that felt both deeply personal and unexpectedly expansive. I have always understood food through family, culture, and memory, but the program pushed me to think more seriously about agriculture, labor, identity, and the political systems behind what we eat. Studying those questions while living in Italy made them feel immediate. They followed me beyond the classroom into markets, restaurants, and everyday conversations. Whether I was navigating a new city or eating an unreasonable amount of pasta, Rome made me more curious about how ordinary parts of life can reveal much larger structures of power.

That curiosity is part of what makes me so excited to have been selected for the J.J. “Jake” Pickle Undergraduate Research Fellowship at UT Austin. Through the fellowship, I will continue exploring the connections between government, law, and Black studies alongside a cohort that will undoubtedly challenge me to think bigger. Looking back, what connected all of these spaces was a growing interest in how people lead and shape the institutions around them. Being a Dedman Scholar has given me a community that encourages both ambition and reflection. I am grateful to be surrounded by people who challenge me to pursue meaningful work and enjoy the adventure along the way.