As a youth mental health advocate, I have spoken on panels with NAMI, We Rise LA, Childhood USA & Comic Relief in the last year. Most recently I co-facilitated a Mental Health Services Oversight and Accountability Commission (MHSOAC) prevention and early intervention peer listening session. I first became involved with mental health advocacy when my film "Abbreviated Soliloquies" won the Team Pick award for the "Mental Health Matters" category of the Directing Change Program, whose mission is to educate youth through the medium of film. Although my participation with Directing Change occurred in May of 2020, "Abbreviated Soliloquies" was a shortened version of my film "Soliloquies," which I made three years earlier. In May of 2017, I was diagnosed with ADHD and social anxiety, and a few months later, I went to New York as a part of Ghetto Film School's summer residency program- a two week period wherein which we stayed at NYU and took classes with the film professors, culminating in a screening of each of our personal narrative films. At the time, I had not spoken to anyone other than my doctor and (just barely) my parents, but I wanted to take the personal narrative assignment as an opportunity to explore how my recent diagnosis affected me and my life. Screening the film was terrifying because not only was I having a real, honest dialogue with myself (hence the name "Soliloquies") for the first time, but that inner conversation was going to be shown to my classmates, whom I had known for almost two years at the time. I was scared they were going to view me differently, that they were going to see me as weak. But I couldn't have been more wrong. After the screening, my friends and classmates came up to me and told me how much they related to my experience. How if I ever needed anything or anyone, they were there to support me. Two years later, "Soliloquies" was screened publicly, this time at the 2018 Cinequest International Film & Creativity Festival in the "Animated Worlds" category. My experience was similar to the summer two years prior: anxiety about being vulnerable, followed by support from some audience members. People of various ages came up to me after the screening and told me how much they were able to relate to my film. I think this was the first time where I fully grasped the power film has to make positive, impactful change. For me, mental health's long history of stigmatization deterred me from seeking support. However, with film, I hope to normalize the conversation surrounding mental health and show others that they are not alone in an experience that often feels so isolating. In addition to going to NYU Tisch to continue my film studies, I have become involved with philanthropy and grant making through my participation with Comic Relief as a Youth Advisory Council Member. Here, I hope to continue my mental health advocacy by funding youth-led mental health organizations. While I have accomplished a lot in the realm of mental health advocacy, I also think it's important to acknowledge that I still struggle with mental health to this day. In the last four years, I have been diagnosed with generalized anxiety and depression. I've learned that one's experience with mental health is ever-changing with its ups and downs. Over the years, as I've become more vocal about my experiences with mental health, I've come to really value and appreciate the support of friends and family. I am incredibly lucky to have a strong support system, and by making films and continuing the conversation, I hope to normalize the discussion of mental health so others can find supports of their own and see that they are not, in fact, alone.

COVID-19 has amplified every facet of life, both the good and the bad. The very nature of quarantine makes introspection inevitable, so I've had a lot of time to think about myself and my place in the world—to *learn* about myself and the world. Almost a full year later, it's strange to look back on the person I was at the beginning of all of this because, in a lot of ways, nothing has changed: I remain living in my house with my family and my three dogs, I still find myself experiencing "COVID fatigue" from time to time, I continue to occasionally be optimistic that this will all be over soon. But with that being said, in a lot of ways, everything has changed. My older brother has left to college, my youngest brother has started kindergarten. I've graduated high school; in fact, I'm not currently in school as I've elected to take a gap year before starting my studies at NYU Tisch School of the Arts to study film & TV production and art history. (For my gap year, I've been working on different productions, advocating for change as a Comic Relief Youth Advisory Council Member, and soon, I will be working as an EMT after I receive my second vaccination.) During this Year of Quarantine, I have had learned many things, but the greatest lesson I've learned is that surrounding the importance of relationships (as corny as it may sound). During the holiday season, on December 21, I received a call from my mom, informing me that my dad tested positive for COVID and had been admitted to the hospital. When I received this call, I was parked in the car waiting for my younger brothers to come back (I took them out on a drive and they left the car to go look at the view outside). One of my little brothers is 6-years-old, and I didn't want to scare him in any way, so I just told them that it was time to head back home. My father was luckily in the hospital for only a few days, being released in late-afternoon of Christmas Eve. The rest of my family did not test positive, so my dad had to isolate from us, while the rest of the house was under a strict 14-day quarantine. Normally, we spend time with my grandparents and cousins, but this time we were unable to do this, especially because my grandparents are part of the high-risk category. We were particularly concerned about possibly exposing my grandfather, who had just finished cancer treatment less than a year ago. As a family, we did our best to stay positive for the holidays, but it was definitely difficult. Prior to this, I had experienced periods of feeling isolated during quarantine, but this time was different, this time was harder. However, after some close friends heard about what was happening, some people began dropping off food wrapped in tinsel, or sent kind messages. These small extensions of kindness went a long way, and acted as a reminder that, while I may have been physically isolated, I was not alone. I have always grown up in a household that instilled the value of family and friendships, but after this experience, I appreciate them even more. Whether that be through mailing letters or making homemade cookie deliveries to friends, I have since been making more of an effort to do little things like that for the people I care about, because I know how much it helped me. I am also aware that not everyone is lucky enough to have the network of support that my family and I have, and I have so much empathy for those who may be in the hospital, unable to see their loved ones. When I start working as an EMT, I know I will be even more mindful of kindness, as there is always the possibility that the person does not have someone who can support them. Kindness, in any capacity, has always been important, but is necessary now more than ever.

Though I am currently taking a gap year to work as an EMT while concurrently developing a short film, I will be attending NYU Tisch School of the Arts to double major in film and TV production as well as art history. I began filmmaking in 2016 when I was admitted to Ghetto Film School (GFS). I applied because I wanted to explore storytelling mediums, but prior to GFS, I never considered film as a possible career option for myself. I think there are many contributing factors to this, but mainly that I rarely saw myself represented on or behind screen, so I just didn't think it was a possibility. Through film, I hope to voice the narratives of underrepresented stories with authenticity. In doing so, I hope to not only amplify historically excluded voices, but also show other BIPOC artists that pursuing a career in film is possible. Film has played an essential role in my personal growth, as it has allowed me to explore my own identity as I make and watch movies. Over the years, I have come to realize how much representation in media, particularly film and television, has affected the way I view myself as an Asian American queer woman. While movies and television have reinforced societal stereotypes and stigma, they have also allowed me to break free of the very same stereotypes and stigmas. The film and television that acted as the catalyst to my own self discovery were made by artists who were part of the "minority": movies like Do the Right Thing, Gook, and Portrait of a Lady on Fire. I hope my films have a similar impact on others.

In order to be an impactful storyteller, one must have experiences off which to base their stories. With my filmmaking and storytelling, I hope to voice the narratives of underrepresented stories with authenticity, but in order to do so, I believe I must become personally familiar with those populations. When I travel, I plan on fully immersing myself in the place I visit so I can connect with people on a genuine, interpersonal level. In order to do so, I understand that I must properly research the culture so I can have a strong foundational starting point. Connecting with the people I will be basing my films off of is incredibly important to me, as I know it will not only enhance the film's narrative, but will also allow me to grow tremendously as both a person and an artist. Art is intrinsically intuitive; by making art, the artist learns more about themselves in the process. The thing I love most about art, movies in particular, is that it allows people from all different backgrounds to connect on a deeper level. Connecting on an emotional level creates more lasting impact. I am proficient in Spanish, so I enrolled in my school's Spanish Film & Literature course last year. During my time in the class, I was exposed to dozens of Spanish films and poems, meaning I was also exposed to the practices that set apart Spanish films and poems from those of English. I have always been interested in poetry and literature, so I was already very comfortable with the "rules" of English literature, as I had studied it in the past. Studying Spanish literature forced me to look at storytelling and narrative art through a completely different lens, as the nuances of the language affected the "rules" of the literature. While this class was merely a moment relative to my entire educational timeline, it left a lasting impact on me. By traveling (to a Spanish-speaking country), I hope to dive even deeper, pushing myself to look at not only art but also life from an entirely new perspective.