AACT Member Spotlight: Deena Vardhini



Every month AACT spotlights a passionate member who is dedicated to enhancing chemistry inside and outside the classroom. This month, we spotlight Deena Vardhini. She teaches Chemistry, Biology, and AP Biology at Okinawa Christian School International in Japan.

Tell us about yourself.

I am a researcher-turned-educator. My scientific journey began with a Ph.D. investigating unique plant compounds that could become fourth-generation insecticides—work that ignited a lifelong fascination with molecules and their potential to solve real-world problems. Postdoctoral training and subsequent work in drug-discovery labs deepened that fascination; I eventually co-authored nine peer-reviewed papers and presented at conferences such as Digestive Diseases Week. Yet when my husband’s career brought our family to Okinawa, I sensed a new calling: nurturing the next generation of scientists.

Today, I channel that passion through the ChemClub I advise on campus, where students design hands-on demonstrations, run outreach events, and compete in programs like OIST SCORE. Last year, our club earned second place for an antifungal-drug project—an achievement that showed my students they can make genuine scientific contributions even before college.

Teaching in a multicultural setting has sharpened my commitment to “science without borders.” My classroom is both a rigorous academic space—where students tackle stoichiometry, genetics, and reaction kinetics—and a cultural crossroads that fosters collaboration, communication, and empathy. I weave biblical themes of stewardship and wonder throughout our lessons, convinced that faith and empirical inquiry together expand a young scientist’s sense of purpose and responsibility.

Beyond school, I’m the mother of two multicultural teenage boys, an amateur artist and embroiderer, and the author of several book projects. Whether I’m writing, mentoring, or guiding a lab, my guiding question remains the same: How can knowledge become nourishment—fueling curiosity, courage, and compassion in every community I serve?

Why did you become a teacher? Did you always want to teach?

My path to the classroom began long before I realized I was headed there. In high school and college, my goals were simple: learn as much as I could and help my classmates whenever they got stuck. When someone asks me “Can you explain this reaction?”-- I loved the puzzle of finding just the right example or explanation that made everything click. Explaining chemistry felt as natural as breathing—a spark that deepened my own understanding each time I witnessed someone else’s “aha.” Still, I pictured my future only in research; bench work, journal articles, and conferences seemed the logical horizon for a small-town student propelled by sheer hunger to learn.

Everything shifted during a quiet afternoon with an elderly family friend. She posed a deceptively simple question: “What is your purpose—one that isn’t about ‘me,’ ‘my,’ or ‘mine’?” Before I could answer, she offered hers: the point of learning is to hand wisdom to the next generation. Her words landed with seismic force. I suddenly saw each breakthrough I chased in the lab pointing back to people—students, patients, communities—who would carry discoveries forward or live healthier because of them.

Curiosity had been both compass and lifeline; it kept me focused when teenage diversions beckoned. Teaching, I realized, was the most direct way to multiply that exhilaration. Rather than guarding knowledge, I could release it, watch it evolve in fresh minds, and feel its ripples spread outward.

So, did I always plan to teach? Not consciously. But in retrospect, every peer tutoring session, every late-night study circle, and every lab discussion was rehearsal. Research trained my analytical instincts; teaching gave them a human heartbeat. Today, the classroom is where purpose, passion, and discovery converge, and where I find the deepest joy.

Share a story from your past that led to your choosing your field of work.

When I think about what first drew me to chemistry, and later to teaching—I remember a small balcony garden outside our apartment. My mother never threw away vegetable scraps; instead, she buried onion skins, carrot tops, and tea leaves in the potting soil. Within a few weeks the marigolds brightened, the rose plants grew taller, and even a modest tomato plant began to fruit. I was too young to know the term nutrient recycling, but I could see that kitchen waste became fertilizer and fertilizer became life. That simple observation convinced me that nature already produces many of the compounds we need to protect and nourish living systems.

Years later, in college, I kept seeing echoes of that balcony experiment. Research studies showed how plant molecules—such as neem limonoids and pyrethrins—can serve as safer alternatives to conventional pesticides. This curiosity guided my Ph.D. research, where I screened plant extracts for insecticidal activity and analyzed structure–activity relationships. The guiding question was the same one my mother’s garden had raised: How can we use what nature already makes to solve the problems nature faces?

Today, that question shapes my classroom. I teach students to analyze reactions, but also to weigh those yields against environmental costs. Lab discussions connect stoichiometry to carbon footprints, and calculations of concentration lead naturally to conversations about soil acidity and sustainable agriculture. Our ChemClub projects often focus on renewable resources, such as producing bioplastics from starch or testing antifungal compounds from common weeds, because I want students to view chemistry as a tool for stewardship, not merely production.

What fuels your passion for science and teaching?

What keeps me excited—day after day—about both science and teaching is the way each one shapes how we think, not just what we know. In research I learned that lasting breakthroughs rarely come from isolated facts; they come from habits of mind: curiosity strong enough to ask “Why?”, discipline steady enough to test the answer, and humility open enough to revise it. When I moved from the lab to the classroom, I saw that these same habits are the real treasure we can pass to students.

Every class I teach is a blend of extroverts who finish problems before I finish the question, introverts who process quietly until they surprise us with insight, and everyone in between—some expecting chemistry to look like colorful “magic,” others bracing for endless equations. What unites them is potential. If I can coach core metacognitive skills—focused attention, self-awareness, strong working memory, and flexible problem-solving—then the periodic table becomes more than symbols and numbers; it becomes a toolkit for informed decisions about food labels, environmental policy, or even the household cleaners they buy.

It’s the moment a student struggling with stoichiometry suddenly connects moles to carbon footprints and says, “Wait, this matters.” It’s watching them apply the same analytical lens to social issues or personal choices. And it’s knowing that each time that spark ignites, we’re not just teaching science; we’re equipping the next generation to tackle a world that is culturally, economically, and environmentally in constant motion.

What are you most proud of in your work?

My deepest satisfaction comes from the quiet, cumulative change I witness in students who enter convinced chemistry is “just equations” and leave knowing it’s a language for understanding—and improving—the world. A few moments stand out:

• Mindset shifts. Each year I watch students move from “This is so difficult” to “I can do this—I can apply my mind and solve it.” When they start framing their own questions and backing them with evidence, real learning has taken root.
• Metacognitive muscle. We build core skills like focused attention, self-monitoring, and memory strategies into every unit. The day a student with ADHD calmly explains how chunking and spaced practice helped her master stoichiometry feels more momentous than covering another chapter.
• Real-world impact. ChemClub projects have grown from simple demos to community-oriented research: extracting natural antifungals from local weeds, prototyping bioplastics from kitchen starch, or analyzing beach microplastics. When teenagers connect textbook reactions to sustainability solutions, they’re practicing chemistry as stewardship, not just coursework.
• Ripple effect. Former students often share that they didn’t quit when college Gen Chem got tough; knowing the habits we practiced in high school helped them persevere through demanding university STEM courses is the most rewarding proof that our classroom culture endures.
  

What do you do to remain current and bring the latest science into the classroom?

I keep my teaching up to date through three simple habits.

1. Ongoing professional development.
   Each year I sign up for at least one short online course or workshop, to learn new digital tools, and evidence-based teaching strategies. These sessions help me refresh my lesson plans and stay aware of what experts recommend for secondary science classrooms.
2. Regular reading and networking.
   I subscribe to teacher-friendly publications such as ChemMatters and follow a few science-education blogs. I also belong to a small professional-learning group that meets monthly (in person or online) to share articles, classroom ideas, and quick “what worked” reflections. Hearing what other teachers try—successes and missteps—keeps my own practice grounded and practical.
3. Bringing real research to students.
   Whenever I can, I link the topic to a current real-world application and discuss it in class. When scheduling allows, I invite a scientist for a brief video chat so students can ask questions about research happening right now.
   

Why did you become involved with AACT? What are the benefits of being involved?

I joined AACT because, teaching chemistry on a small island in Japan, I needed a professional “home base” that could keep me connected to the wider community of chemistry educators. AACT offered exactly that: a curated library of classroom-tested labs, simulations, and videos that I could adapt immediately.

The benefits show up every week. When I’m planning a new unit, I can search AACT for standards-aligned activities and find three or four high-quality options in minutes instead of hours. The quarterly periodical, Chemistry Solutions keeps me current on evidence-based teaching strategies. Most important, AACT reminds me that I’m part of a global network of teachers who value both rigorous science and student-centered learning; that collective expertise boosts my confidence and, ultimately, my students’ success.

In three words, what would your students say they learned from you?

Critical thinking, perseverance, confidence.