(Nov. 4, 2025: Anna wins 1st Place and Crowd Favorite awards at StartOut Demo Day in San Francisco.)
“You can do it all. But not all at once.”
This would probably be an easier pill to swallow if my job wasn’t in medicine, where every minute people are suffering and we are losing lives. Each one hits me like a gut punch. I know loss, and I know the void it leaves behind, the silent horror at your new reality. I know that as a physician in training I’m not supposed to get so emotionally involved, but I can’t help seeing each of my patients as a family member or valuing them as I do my own life. Giving up isn’t an option. My therapist says I have a pathological level of empathy. But there’s nothing quite like a sense that “failure isn’t an option” to kick your butt into gear, nothing like unrelenting pressure and limited resources to force you into finding a creative solution.
So, after years of struggle and repeated cycles of burnout, trying new things, and iteratively finding the path of least resistance, here’s my creative solution.
You can do it all. But not alone.
As to the old narrative, of course time is an important resource – but it is not the only one at our disposal. And when time isn’t on your side, it’s time to look at other potential resources to bridge the gap. In my case, learning how to ask for help – and partnering with people who are similar enough to share the dream, but different enough for us to complement and amplify each others’ skill sets – has made all the difference.
As per many of our mentors’ observations, Korion has one of the most uniquely interdependent and powerful social support systems of any team, and I have only recently come to understand why. We aren’t a typical “tech bro” startup. In fact, my cofounder Akshaya and I never even wanted to start a company, never even believed we could. As someone with an academic background and a liberal arts education, I perhaps naively believed that free and open-source information, combined with my own and my fellow students’ voluntary efforts to make it accessible, was going to save the world.
I was the daughter of two immigrants who had sacrificed everything to have me here, and their number one definition of success for me wasn’t impact, it was safety and stability. (I’m sure many other first gens can relate to this.) My parents actively discouraged me from anything that came with risk, and their lack of belief in me led to a lack of belief in myself.
So when I brought the digital stethoscope prototype from our 2021 University of Pittsburgh hackathon win to my attending cardiologist, Dr. Eric Dueweke (now Chief Medical Officer at Korion), I was shocked and disappointed to hear that he thought open-source publication would be a dead end for the device. It was heartbreaking to hear that the pet project I had put so much effort into (well, I had yet to know just how much more effort it would take) wasn’t going to make the impact I had envisioned for it. When Eric kept going on about how commercializing the device would be the only way to ensure it made a difference long-term, honestly, I was barely listening. I had spent enough time arguing with insurance and medical device companies to advocate for my patients, friends, and family that I had come to see them as the enemy. I had vowed never to charge anyone money for something that they might need to live. I couldn’t stomach the sinking feeling that it was wrong.
Oh, the dumb things we think at age 22. The world is complicated, and part of me still thinks I wasn’t fully wrong. Nevertheless, the world is what it is, and if you want to rise to the point of being able to change the game one day, you do have to play it.
But there’s still the other factor of believing that you can.
I’m not afraid of failure. My tiger mom has been calling me a failure every day of my life. The bar of my expectations in life for my own achievement is set pretty low.
But I am afraid of not spending my time wisely. Investing my efforts where they are most likely to succeed and be impactful in the areas I care about is a delicate balancing act. Besides, I couldn’t just run off and start a company! I had already been doing over a decade of research in cystic fibrosis in honor of my high school best friend, who has the disease, and I was finally getting close to something that might actually help her, instead of just being able to provide an onslaught of fun facts from my research findings about mechanisms of antibiotic resistance. I had prior commitments, ya know? Things to do!
Of course, the above existential crisis was all playing out in my own head. But as I sat down with my former high school Latin Club at our semi-annual reunion luncheon at Mediterranean Deli in Chapel Hill and confessed my dilemma, I heard something very different. It went something along the lines of:
“Anna, this would be a game-changer for me and for so many people I know. You have to build it.” (Make someone else do it, then?)
“You can absolutely do it. If anyone can do it, it’s you.” (This assessment was based on my performance as environmental club president in high school, which I thought was a bit outdated and incomparable.)
“I’ll do it with you. You won’t be alone.” This last one, spoken by Galen, gave me pause, and the part of my brain that had been ceaselessly spinning up excuses seemed to hit a glitch.
“Really?” I asked.
“Yeah, every step of the way. I’m not really enjoying my current job, to be honest, and this sounds like something really meaningful to pour my time into. Besides, I’ve got plenty of experience with operations and audio design.”
“Me too,” Hastings chimed in. He had been part of the original hackathon team and was also in the midst of his PhD. “Anna, we can do this.”
And it hit me that as little as I believed in myself, I had a near-religious belief in my friends. Galen and Hastings were both a year above me in school. Galen had tutored me in Latin when my class schedule didn’t allow for it one year and enabled me to continue on into Latin IV without taking Latin III formally. Hastings was always there to provide a safe space for my computer science questions and cheer me up with his jokes. They were like older brothers to me, and I already trusted them with my life. If I didn’t believe in myself, at least I believed in them.
“Okay…” I said, steeling myself. “I’ll try. But you guys better do most of the work!!” Chuckles went around, pita was exchanged, and a company was formed.
~~~ Five years later ~~~
I think believing in each other more than we believe in ourselves has consistently been the glue behind how Korion was built. A few months after that conversation, I met Akshaya through another MD-PhD student at UPitt. Those who have been following Korion’s journey know that she eventually became my co-founder, but I still remember our first conversation. It was marked by multiple comments of self-doubt – but a willingness to explore how we could help each other. Now that I’ve spent some time in the startup world, I know that our story presents a stark contrast to that of some other student founders, who might enter a “peacocking contest” of strutting your feathers and selling why you’d be a great co-founder. For Akshaya and me, it was more like… “Look, I don’t know what I’m doing…” “But you’re doing so wonderfully at it!” “I have no experience in this though. You’re the one bringing the magic.” “Omg no u” “No u!” “No YOU!” combined with lots of laughs, Pokémon memes, and panics, but together.
A lot of startups don’t have clearly defined roles, but for two students like us it was particularly crazy. I would take on more work when she was in finals, and vice versa. There was never a sense of, “This is your job” – we always approached it with, “This is our job, and we’re going to figure it out together.” The entire team at Korion is like that, and I think when times are really tough, it’s our faith in each other that gives us the courage to keep going.
Newsflash – I’m still in the MD-PhD program, and I just presented my research in Seattle on using experimental evolution to engineer bacteriophages in combatting antibiotic-resistant infections. I can’t tell you how many people adamantly told me that I couldn’t have it all, or that there was no way I could start a company while still being a full-time student, much less in an MD-PhD program.
To them I say, you’re right: if I’m alone. But I’m not. I’m surrounded by wonderful, brilliant people on the team who I can struggle with, be honest with, and who will catch me every time I fall. In turn, I do all that I can to look out for them and support them and the mission. It’s one of the things that turns what could be “just another job” into a joyful experience filled with passion, courage, and inspiration. Even now, after dozens of team meetings, I’m still hit with a thrill of admiration (and let’s admit it, love) for team members when they bring their unique experiences to the table and contribute something I never would’ve thought of.
So there you have it – the secret sauce of Korion. It’s an unconventional way to do it, but it’s our way. I couldn’t be prouder of the teammates who have believed in me with enough conviction to build this company with me and commit their own lives to saving those of others.
<3
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