On weekends, my cousins and I would gather around a wooden table scattered with our homework. Our parents held much importance to traditional Vietnamese values. They took great care to instill the importance of kind-heartedness. Throughout my childhood, we spent countless hours clung to that table, helping each other learn. An awkward silence would often break with one of us asking how to answer a question. This routine became a trademark of our Vietnamese house. Although they weren’t my siblings, we treated each other like brothers and sisters. In our Vietnamese culture, family is a core tenant. Woven into the very language we speak, we were taught to view everyone as family. We called each other “Anh and Chị”, brother and sister, which bonded us as siblings. During weekly study sessions, I would help my younger siblings with their homework just as my older siblings did for me. From an early age, I learned how succeeding together outweighed individual success. As I climbed, I lifted those around me. Years later, I started teaching at Radiance Learning, where I taught a diverse group of middle schoolers about STEM, robotics, and programming. Everybody started out working individually. Students often sat alone at their computers. In the rare moments where students did interact, they argued and squabbled over petty things like who’s turn it was at the testing field. The learning environment was quickly becoming spiteful and the kids weren’t learning. I knew I had to act. Soon, I saw what they were missing. My class was similar to my family studying years prior. They were just missing a sense of community. As their teacher, I needed them to try and come together. So I assigned students into groups with varying levels of experience. I told students to ask another student before they asked me. Questions between kids created tangents that created bonds. In groups, a plethora of strengths and weaknesses united to create environments where everybody contributed. By working together and supporting each other, trust was built between students. The kids finally started to have fun together. Working together created bridges between diverse groups, bonding us all. Through my experiences, I realized that working together to share knowledge didn’t just improve productivity, it also served as a catalyst for building a community. So much of our current world and society is toxic. Nations and different groups of people fight and squabble over resources and petty disagreements. As a result, I believe that not enough importance is being placed on progressing humanity. It pains me to see the lack of community this world shows. Although I won’t be able to solve the world’s problems single-handedly, I want to continue building communities wherever I go. With my Vietnamese background as my foundation, I hope to continue building bridges between myself and other students in college, creating powerful and scholarly communities. Through my education and experiences, I hope to be able to help create something that pushes the boundaries of humanity.

While other kindergartners were out at recess playing tag and Tetherball, I was trapped inside with Mrs. Dawson learning English. While the other kids were out making friends, I was in ESL class learning how funky rhymed with monkey. My parents valued Vietnamese culture so they raised me to only speak Vietnamese. As an unintended consequence, I started learning English five years behind my peers. I always felt so embarrassed by my English. Shyness and not having friends gave me my first insecurities. I hoped things would improve given time, however, as classmates grew taller, I always seemed to stay four inches behind. Being shorter compounded my existing insecurities. At that point, I judged myself purely based on my own perceived inabilities. Despite eventually making friends, I held myself back from them, thinking that I was too short to be any good at the sports they played. My peers soared past me. As I watched my friend, Brian, succeed socially and physically, I realized how little I had grown by the end of middle school. For years, I remained a timid boy trapped by my desire to fit into standards where others excelled. After realizing how comparing myself to my friends was robbing me of joy, I needed to change. If I continued to judge myself based on the skills of others, I would never be happy with myself. I needed to seek happiness in my abilities, not others’. Consequently, I left the safety of my middle school friends and transferred into Inglemoor’s IB program. After much consideration, I decided to join a Robotics team. As high school started, so did my team’s elections for project manager and team captain. Project manager interested me because it allowed me to improve on my own abilities. I kept worrying, as I always did: Would I be good at this? I realized that I didn’t fear failure, but rather the possibility of being good at something after all. I decided to take a risk on myself because now, I feared forever missing this opportunity. Rather than hoping for change, I worked for it. To my surprise, I was elected project manager. Although this title didn’t give me confidence overnight, it provided a platform to build the foundation to recreate myself. As project manager, I was able to enhance my public speaking skills and curate my passion for robotics. In order to get our robot functional, I took charge of our programming. Robotics was no longer an extracurricular, it became my life, a newfound passion—I strove to succeed at every competition. To meet this goal, I stayed late at meetings and worked with my team outside our normal schedule. The impact I had on our team through programming and managing others taught me that I would have to work hard to accomplish my goals. Throughout my four years in robotics, we were able to win two state championships and attend two world championships. My confidence wasn’t tied to the number of trophies I had, but having these accolades allowed me to reaffirm my self confidence and allowed me to excel. I was finally able to judge myself based on my abilities, not my inabilities. Despite growing up five years behind, I was able to overcome ESL and my insecurities by realizing how comparison is the thief of happiness. At university, I’ll take the next step and continue to take risks and seek opportunities to grow myself. I might never be as strong or as tall as my friends, but now, I can soar too.

While other kindergartners were out at recess playing tag and Tetherball, I was trapped inside with Mrs. Dawson learning English. While the other kids were out making friends, I was in ESL class learning how funky rhymed with monkey. My parents valued Vietnamese culture so they raised me to only speak Vietnamese. As an unintended consequence, I started learning English five years behind my peers. I always felt so embarrassed by my English. Shyness and not having friends gave me my first insecurities. I hoped things would improve given time, however, as classmates grew taller, I always seemed to stay four inches behind. Being shorter compounded my existing insecurities. At that point, I judged myself purely based on my own perceived inabilities. Despite eventually making friends, I held myself back from them, thinking that I was too short to be any good at the sports they played. My peers soared past me. As I watched my friend, Brian, succeed socially and physically, I realized how little I had grown by the end of middle school. For years, I remained a timid boy trapped by my desire to fit into standards where others excelled. After realizing how comparing myself to my friends was robbing me of joy, I needed to change. If I continued to judge myself based on the skills of others, I would never be happy with myself. I needed to seek happiness in my abilities, not others’. Consequently, I left the safety of my middle school friends and transferred into Inglemoor’s IB program. After much consideration, I decided to join a Robotics team. As high school started, so did my team’s elections for project manager and team captain. Project manager interested me because it allowed me to improve on my own abilities. I kept worrying, as I always did: Would I be good at this? I realized that I didn’t fear failure, but rather the possibility of being good at something after all. I decided to take a risk on myself because now, I feared forever missing this opportunity. Rather than hoping for change, I worked for it. To my surprise, I was elected project manager. Although this title didn’t give me confidence overnight, it provided a platform to build the foundation to recreate myself. As project manager, I was able to enhance my public speaking skills and curate my passion for robotics. In order to get our robot functional, I took charge of our programming. Robotics was no longer an extracurricular, it became my life, a newfound passion—I strove to succeed at every competition. To meet this goal, I stayed late at meetings and worked with my team outside our normal schedule. The impact I had on our team through programming and managing others taught me that I would have to work hard to accomplish my goals. Throughout my four years in robotics, we were able to win two state championships and attend two world championships. My confidence wasn’t tied to the number of trophies I had, but having these accolades allowed me to reaffirm my self confidence and allowed me to excel. I was finally able to judge myself based on my abilities, not my inabilities. Despite growing up five years behind, I was able to overcome ESL and my insecurities by realizing how comparison is the thief of happiness. At university, I’ll take the next step and continue to take risks and seek opportunities to grow myself. I might never be as strong or as tall as my friends, but now, I can soar too.

While other kindergartners were out at recess playing tag and Tetherball, I was trapped inside with Mrs. Dawson learning English. While the other kids were out making friends, I was in ESL class learning how funky rhymed with monkey. My parents valued Vietnamese culture so they raised me to only speak Vietnamese. As an unintended consequence, I started learning English five years behind my peers. I always felt so embarrassed by my English. Shyness and not having friends gave me my first insecurities. I hoped things would improve given time, however, as classmates grew taller, I always seemed to stay four inches behind. Being shorter compounded my existing insecurities. At that point, I judged myself purely based on my own perceived inabilities. Despite eventually making friends, I held myself back from them, thinking that I was too short to be any good at the sports they played. My peers soared past me. As I watched my friend, Brian, succeed socially and physically, I realized how little I had grown by the end of middle school. For years, I remained a timid boy trapped by my desire to fit into standards where others excelled. After realizing how comparing myself to my friends was robbing me of joy, I needed to change. If I continued to judge myself based on the skills of others, I would never be happy with myself. I needed to seek happiness in my abilities, not others’. Consequently, I left the safety of my middle school friends and transferred into Inglemoor’s IB program. After much consideration, I decided to join a Robotics team. As high school started, so did my team’s elections for project manager and team captain. Project manager interested me because it allowed me to improve on my own abilities. I kept worrying, as I always did: Would I be good at this? I realized that I didn’t fear failure, but rather the possibility of being good at something after all. I decided to take a risk on myself because now, I feared forever missing this opportunity. Rather than hoping for change, I worked for it. To my surprise, I was elected project manager. Although this title didn’t give me confidence overnight, it provided a platform to build the foundation to recreate myself. As project manager, I was able to enhance my public speaking skills and curate my passion for robotics. In order to get our robot functional, I took charge of our programming. Robotics was no longer an extracurricular, it became my life, a newfound passion—I strove to succeed at every competition. To meet this goal, I stayed late at meetings and worked with my team outside our normal schedule. The impact I had on our team through programming and managing others taught me that I would have to work hard to accomplish my goals. Throughout my four years in robotics, we were able to win two state championships and attend two world championships. My confidence wasn’t tied to the number of trophies I had, but having these accolades allowed me to reaffirm my self confidence and allowed me to excel. I was finally able to judge myself based on my abilities, not my inabilities. Despite growing up five years behind, I was able to overcome ESL and my insecurities by realizing how comparison is the thief of happiness. At university, I’ll take the next step and continue to take risks and seek opportunities to grow myself. I might never be as strong or as tall as my friends, but now, I can soar too.

While other kindergartners were out at recess playing tag and Tetherball, I was trapped inside with Mrs. Dawson learning English. While the other kids were out making friends, I was in ESL class learning how funky rhymed with monkey. My parents valued Vietnamese culture so they raised me to only speak Vietnamese. As an unintended consequence, I started learning English five years behind my peers. I always felt so embarrassed by my English. Shyness and not having friends gave me my first insecurities. I hoped things would improve given time, however, as classmates grew taller, I always seemed to stay four inches behind. Being shorter compounded my existing insecurities. At that point, I judged myself purely based on my own perceived inabilities. Despite eventually making friends, I held myself back from them, thinking that I was too short to be any good at the sports they played. My peers soared past me. As I watched my friend, Brian, succeed socially and physically, I realized how little I had grown by the end of middle school. For years, I remained a timid boy trapped by my desire to fit into standards where others excelled. After realizing how comparing myself to my friends was robbing me of joy, I needed to change. If I continued to judge myself based on the skills of others, I would never be happy with myself. I needed to seek happiness in my abilities, not others’. Consequently, I left the safety of my middle school friends and transferred into Inglemoor’s IB program. After much consideration, I decided to join a Robotics team. As high school started, so did my team’s elections for project manager and team captain. Project manager interested me because it allowed me to improve on my own abilities. I kept worrying, as I always did: Would I be good at this? I realized that I didn’t fear failure, but rather the possibility of being good at something after all. I decided to take a risk on myself because now, I feared forever missing this opportunity. Rather than hoping for change, I worked for it. To my surprise, I was elected project manager. Although this title didn’t give me confidence overnight, it provided a platform to build the foundation to recreate myself. As project manager, I was able to enhance my public speaking skills and curate my passion for robotics. In order to get our robot functional, I took charge of our programming. Robotics was no longer an extracurricular, it became my life, a newfound passion—I strove to succeed at every competition. To meet this goal, I stayed late at meetings and worked with my team outside our normal schedule. The impact I had on our team through programming and managing others taught me that I would have to work hard to accomplish my goals. Throughout my four years in robotics, we were able to win two state championships and attend two world championships. My confidence wasn’t tied to the number of trophies I had, but having these accolades allowed me to reaffirm my self confidence and allowed me to excel. I was finally able to judge myself based on my abilities, not my inabilities. Despite growing up five years behind, I was able to overcome ESL and my insecurities by realizing how comparison is the thief of happiness. At university, I’ll take the next step and continue to take risks and seek opportunities to grow myself. I might never be as strong or as tall as my friends, but now, I can soar too.

While other kindergartners were out at recess playing tag and Tetherball, I was trapped inside with Mrs. Dawson learning English. While the other kids were out making friends, I was in ESL class learning how funky rhymed with monkey. My parents valued Vietnamese culture so they raised me to only speak Vietnamese. As an unintended consequence, I started learning English five years behind my peers. I always felt so embarrassed by my English. Shyness and not having friends gave me my first insecurities. I hoped things would improve given time, however, as classmates grew taller, I always seemed to stay four inches behind. Being shorter compounded my existing insecurities. At that point, I judged myself purely based on my own perceived inabilities. Despite eventually making friends, I held myself back from them, thinking that I was too short to be any good at the sports they played. My peers soared past me. As I watched my friend, Brian, succeed socially and physically, I realized how little I had grown by the end of middle school. For years, I remained a timid boy trapped by my desire to fit into standards where others excelled. After realizing how comparing myself to my friends was robbing me of joy, I needed to change. If I continued to judge myself based on the skills of others, I would never be happy with myself. I needed to seek happiness in my abilities, not others’. Consequently, I left the safety of my middle school friends and transferred into Inglemoor’s IB program. After much consideration, I decided to join a Robotics team. As high school started, so did my team’s elections for project manager and team captain. Project manager interested me because it allowed me to improve on my own abilities. I kept worrying, as I always did: Would I be good at this? I realized that I didn’t fear failure, but rather the possibility of being good at something after all. I decided to take a risk on myself because now, I feared forever missing this opportunity. Rather than hoping for change, I worked for it. To my surprise, I was elected project manager. Although this title didn’t give me confidence overnight, it provided a platform to build the foundation to recreate myself. As project manager, I was able to enhance my public speaking skills and curate my passion for robotics. In order to get our robot functional, I took charge of our programming. Robotics was no longer an extracurricular, it became my life, a newfound passion—I strove to succeed at every competition. To meet this goal, I stayed late at meetings and worked with my team outside our normal schedule. The impact I had on our team through programming and managing others taught me that I would have to work hard to accomplish my goals. Throughout my four years in robotics, we were able to win two state championships and attend two world championships. My confidence wasn’t tied to the number of trophies I had, but having these accolades allowed me to reaffirm my self confidence and allowed me to excel. I was finally able to judge myself based on my abilities, not my inabilities. Despite growing up five years behind, I was able to overcome ESL and my insecurities by realizing how comparison is the thief of happiness. At university, I’ll take the next step and continue to take risks and seek opportunities to grow myself. I might never be as strong or as tall as my friends, but now, I can soar too.

While other kindergartners were out at recess playing tag and Tetherball, I was trapped inside with Mrs. Dawson learning English. While the other kids were out making friends, I was in ESL class learning how funky rhymed with monkey. My parents valued Vietnamese culture so they raised me to only speak Vietnamese. As an unintended consequence, I started learning English five years behind my peers. I always felt so embarrassed by my English. Shyness and not having friends gave me my first insecurities. I hoped things would improve given time, however, as classmates grew taller, I always seemed to stay four inches behind. Being shorter compounded my existing insecurities. At that point, I judged myself purely based on my own perceived inabilities. Despite eventually making friends, I held myself back from them, thinking that I was too short to be any good at the sports they played. My peers soared past me. As I watched my friend, Brian, succeed socially and physically, I realized how little I had grown by the end of middle school. For years, I remained a timid boy trapped by my desire to fit into standards where others excelled. After realizing how comparing myself to my friends was robbing me of joy, I needed to change. If I continued to judge myself based on the skills of others, I would never be happy with myself. I needed to seek happiness in my abilities, not others’. Consequently, I left the safety of my middle school friends and transferred into Inglemoor’s IB program. After much consideration, I decided to join a Robotics team. As high school started, so did my team’s elections for project manager and team captain. Project manager interested me because it allowed me to improve on my own abilities. I kept worrying, as I always did: Would I be good at this? I realized that I didn’t fear failure, but rather the possibility of being good at something after all. I decided to take a risk on myself because now, I feared forever missing this opportunity. Rather than hoping for change, I worked for it. To my surprise, I was elected project manager. Although this title didn’t give me confidence overnight, it provided a platform to build the foundation to recreate myself. As a project manager, I was able to enhance my public speaking skills and curate my passion for robotics. In order to get our robot functional, I took charge of our programming. Robotics was no longer extracurricular, it became my life, a newfound passion—I strove to succeed at every competition. To meet this goal, I stayed late at meetings and worked with my team outside our normal schedule. The impact I had on our team through programming and managing others taught me that I would have to work hard to accomplish my goals. Throughout my four years in robotics, we were able to win two state championships and attend two world championships. My confidence wasn’t tied to the number of trophies I had, but having these accolades allowed me to reaffirm my self-confidence and allowed me to excel. I was finally able to judge myself based on my abilities, not my inabilities. Despite growing up five years behind, I was able to overcome ESL and my insecurities by realizing how comparison is the thief of happiness. At university, I’ll take the next step and continue to take risks, and seek opportunities to grow myself. I might never be as strong or as tall as my friends, but now, I can soar too.