Meet Kailash Muthukumar | Policy Researcher & Advocate

We had the good fortune of connecting with Kailash Muthukumar and we’ve shared our conversation below.

Hi Kailash, what matters most to you?
The principle that matters most to me is equity. It’s more than a buzzword! It’s the lens through which I see the world, the reason I stay up late reading legal cases, and the fuel behind my research on economic justice.

Growing up, I often wondered why certain communities faced barriers that others didn’t—why some tribes were federally recognized while others, despite centuries of resilience, were not. That question led me to policy research with the Institute for American Indian Studies, where I studied how a lack of recognition impacts tribes’ access to resources, land, and economic development opportunities. I saw firsthand how equity is not just a policy ideal, but a matter of survival.

For me, equity means creating a world where every community, regardless of its status on paper or to others, has the opportunity to thrive on its own terms. It’s about listening deeply, challenging assumptions, and using research as a tool for advocacy. Equity isn’t a passive value; it’s a responsibility. That’s why I’m committed to using my skills to make sure that the stories, needs, and rights of marginalized communities aren’t just acknowledged, but that they’re acted upon.

Let’s talk shop? Tell us more about your career, what can you share with our community?
My work fundamentally lives at the intersection of policy research, education, and community advocacy, specifically focused on economic justice and indigenous sovereignty. What sets it apart isn’t just the subject matter, but the approach: I believe research shouldn’t stay locked away in academic papers or archives. It should move. It should shape how we teach, how we legislate, and how we see each other. I strive to make complex policy issues accessible to everyday people, to bridge the gap between technical research and real-world impact. Whether it’s helping museums reimagine their educational programming, create digestible policy briefs/short-form content for the public, or creating youth-led resources that break down federal recognition policies, my work is about making the invisible…visible.

I’m especially proud of how I’ve been able to collaborate with Indigenous communities and institutions like the Institute for American Indian Studies and the Association on American Indian Affairs. Together, we’ve created educational materials that help students, adults, and teachers understand the economic consequences of policy decisions—like what it means for a tribe to lack federal recognition, or how sovereignty is tied to access to resources and opportunities. It’s not just about learning history, but it’s about seeing policy as a living, breathing force that shapes lives!

How did I get here? Honestly, it started with a lot of questions and a lot of late nights. I didn’t wake up one day knowing how to navigate federal policy frameworks or understand the economic implications of sovereignty. I had to teach myself by diving into dense government reports, legal cases, and academic papers, often feeling completely lost. But I learned that if you stay with the discomfort long enough, the fog starts to somewhat clear.

It wasn’t easy, especially as a high school student. There were times I felt like I didn’t belong in the spaces I was trying to engage with. There were moments of doubt, where I wondered if my voice mattered. What helped me push through was remembering why I started: to amplify stories that have been silenced for too long, and to create useful tools that empower others to advocate for change and learn about forgotten stories.

Along the way, I’ve learned that curiosity is a superpower, but it has to be paired with humility. It’s not enough to ask questions; you have to listen deeply and be willing to unlearn. Real change is slow, and you have to be in it for the long haul. Impact happens through collaboration, and my work isn’t mine alone, but built on the wisdom of countless others.

Ultimately, I want the world to know that young people can create change—real, measurable change—when they follow their curiosity, stay persistent, and refuse to accept that their age limits their capacity for impact. My story isn’t just about policy or advocacy, but it’s about the power of asking hard questions, the courage to keep going when things get tough, and the belief that knowledge should serve a greater purpose. If there’s one thing I hope people take away, it’s this: the work of justice, of creating a more equitable world, is not just for experts or policymakers. It’s for all of us. And it starts with learning, listening, and acting together!

Let’s say your best friend was visiting the area and you wanted to show them the best time ever. Where would you take them? Give us a little itinerary – say it was a week long trip, where would you eat, drink, visit, hang out, etc.
If my best friend was visiting for a week, I’d host a trip that blends the best of community, culture, and a little bit of unexpected fun because that’s the energy I love to bring to any adventure! We’d probably kick off the first morning with coffee and pastries at Valor Coffee in Atlanta because there’s just something about the vibe there that fuels good conversation. Then we’d head to Atlanta’s High Museum of Art, which I think is a must-visit for the architecture alone, but also to catch whatever thought-provoking exhibit is on. For lunch, we’d swing by Ponce City Market, a food hall that feels like a microcosm of Atlanta’s energy, before renting bikes on the BeltLine, riding through Krog Street Tunnel’s graffiti wonderland, and ending the day with sunset views at Piedmont Park.

Midweek, I’d take us on a trip to Stone Mountain, and not just for the hike, but to talk about the complex history it represents, because understanding place means understanding its stories. We’d maybe grab dinner at Busy Bee Cafe, an Atlanta special that serves soul food with soul.

Then, by the end of the week, we’d likely slow things down with a walk through Chattahoochee Nature Center, maybe rent kayaks and float the river. For a final adventure, we’d dress up a bit for some Canoeing, right by the water, and just reflect on the week, what we saw, what we learned, and the people we met along the way! Because I think the real magic of a trip isn’t just in the places you go, but in the conversations, the new perspectives, and the way it all lingers in your mind long after…especially with your best friend!

Who else deserves some credit and recognition?
Absolutely. I wouldn’t exist without the people and communities who have lifted me up and challenged me to think deeper, act bolder, and stay humble.

First and foremost, I owe a tremendous amount to the mentors who have guided me, especially the team at the Institute for American Indian Studies (IAIS). From the very first conversation, they treated me not as just a high schooler dabbling in policy, but as a collaborator with something to meaningfully contribute. Their trust empowered me to turn research into action, and their constant feedback helped me grow not just as a student, but as an advocate.

I’m also incredibly grateful for the professors and researchers who took the time to engage with my work, ask tough questions, and remind me that real change happens through collaboration and development.

And of course, I can’t forget my family—my parents and my sister, who instilled in me a deep respect for love, learning and community, and my debate team, where I first learned how to question, to listen, and to believe that even young voices matter.

This shoutout isn’t just about individuals, but I believe it’s about the collective. It’s about the educators, peers, and advocates who show up every day to make a difference. They’ve shown me that research is powerful, but it’s community that gives it true meaning!

Website: https://www.iaismuseum.org

Other: kamwbms25@gmail.com