My daughter was the kind of student every teacher praised — organized, driven, and self-motivated. Flashcards, calendars, color-coded notes — she had it all down. Her GPA was excellent. Her focus was unwavering. So, when it came time to prep for competitive exams, like the SAT, I expected more of the same. She had a plan. She stuck to it. But something was off. She’d hesitate when asked a question. Her eyes would dart, her confidence flicker. And sometimes, she’d avoid sharing scores — not because she didn’t care, but maybe because she cared too much. Maybe because she feared what they said about her. Her worth. She was doing everything right — but something invisible was weighing her down.

We got her support. A counselor worked not just on tactics, but on trust. On finding calm. On helping her reconnect with her own voice. Slowly, I watched her begin to steady herself.

At the same time, my son stayed calm, clear-headed, and focused. But in him, I saw something else: an almost obsessive need to see results. He needed the data. The numbers. The wins. He was steady — but intensely outcome-oriented. Every day of prep had to mean something measurable. Each session needed to show progress. Every mistake was a red flag; pressure had simply found a different way to manifest.

And it wasn’t just my kids. I began seeing it everywhere — in my goddaughters, in family friends, in other bright teens. The patterns repeated. That’s when it hit me. This wasn’t just about stress or study habits. It was about identity — how easily even the most capable kids start to confuse performance with personal worth.
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This type of pressure doesn’t push them, it shrinks them. It whispers that a dip in performance isn’t a moment, but a measure of who they are. And then I saw the “need” too clearly; academic mastery isn’t enough. Students require something deeper; a system that nurtures emotional stamina, builds adaptive thinking, and strengthens self-trust. The kind of inner tools that carry them not just through a test, but through life.

I then reflected on another question — not about scores, but about the journey.

Your answer might be both (like mine). But is that truly happening? 

Today’s education journey can often feel like a relentless race — for grades, scores, college dreams. 

Students are sprinting to meet deadlines. 

Parents are trying to open every door. 

And educators are doing their best to meet standards and support growth.

But this race — though filled with good intentions — can leave students worn out. Learning turns into a checklist. Motivation gives way to pressure. Curiosity, confidence, and joy start to fade.

It landed with weight — not just as a mother but as an AI leader who knew we could do better.

I’ve spent over 12 years building AI models for some of the toughest challenges — and yet millions of students still face test prep with no personalization, no emotional awareness, and no adaptive feedback. That had to change. 

‍And it was then, at that moment, when Sherpal began — before it had a name, but not before it had a purpose.

‍Sherpal brings together every layer of who I am— a blend of AI, empathy, and lived experience. It’s shaped by years designing predictive systems, founding a nonprofit for early childhood development, and raising four children who’ve all experienced the pressures of high-stakes learning. At its core, Sherpal reflects the values I grew up with, taught by my parents who are educators— that real learning is built on purpose, discipline, and human connection.

Those lessons stayed with me. And they collided with my present reality — where I realized:

Our kids don’t just need more exam prep. They need a guide.

A Sherpa who understands both the mountain and the climber.
A Pal who walks with them and helps them see their own brilliance.

From day one, I brought students into the room. High schoolers opened their hearts and minds to me, tested early versions, shared unfiltered feedback, and helped shape every step.

Sherpal was shaped not just for them — but with them.

Now,  let me take you back to where it all began. I watched my daughter wrestle with quiet self-doubt and my son chase outcomes with laser focus. Both are bright, capable, and deeply committed — yet both were shaped by pressure in ways that went far beyond academics. And now, they’re both on their SAT prep journey with Sherpal — not just learning content, but building resilience, self-trust, and clarity along the way.

So, what now?

We’ve spent so long treating test prep as a hurdle, something to endure, to survive, to push through. But what if we saw it differently? What if the very pressure students feel could be transformed into their greatest advantage — not by removing the challenge, but by changing how we guide them through it?

A proving ground for resilience. A practice arena for clarity, courage, and self-trust.

Because when students learn to stay calm under pressure, to believe in themselves when doubt creeps in, to see setbacks as part of the climb — they’re not just preparing for a test. They’re preparing for life.

And here’s the beautiful part, when academic mastery is paired with inner strength, everything reinforces. Confidence sharpens focus. Resilience fuels persistence. And learning is not just effective — but empowering and transformational.

That’s the shift Sherpal invites.

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A new kind of prep — rooted in discipline, consistency and resilience and driven by academic mastery.

Let’s flip the script together — and help every student become not just a strong test-taker (get an astounding SAT score or ace any exam), but a calm thinker, a confident learner, and a resilient leader the world needs next.