As the Co-founder and CEO of Frontiers of Fulfillment, a 501(c)(3) nonprofit, I have led efforts to integrate youth perspectives into mental health policies. I've collaborated with over a dozen senators and US Representatives to pass mental health policy bills. These efforts have extended our reach to over thirty states, impacting thousands through advocacy and lobbying workshops by ensuring that youth voices are heard and central in shaping policy. After over ten rounds of direct lobbying, the NY Senate Education Committee is currently reviewing one of our most endorsed bills surrounding race and mental health (can not disclose). Additionally, we've testified at Mental Hygiene hearings in the New York and Washington State Legislatures about the necessity for youth voices in shaping policies for youth mental health. My initiative, "SchoolSight: A Comprehensive Mental Health Vision," sought to identify and implement evidence-based interventions in my county using a youth-centric perspective. This work led me to present findings to figures like US Congressman Jamaal Bowman and Senator Shelley Mayer. The initiative was recognized in various media outlets, from local newspapers to the Washington Post. I developed research reports and presented findings at forums for over 1,700 people. Leading a district-wide effort with our Superintendent, I designed a grant proposal and secured $125,000 in funding for my recommended wellness spaces (serving ~5,000 students) from the community coalition Scarsdale Action for Youth. I have championed the principle of youth co-design in mental health systems at numerous conferences, including NAMICon, and have published four peer-reviewed manuscripts on community-based participatory mental health research. I am on the NYS PTA’s Board of Directors, W2BW’s National Student Advisory Council, and Strong365’s Teen Advisory Board. I am JED's 2024 SVMHA recipient and on Mental Health America’s 2023-2024 Young Leader’s Council. I hope to pursue an MD/MPP in the future and better mental health care for communities that may be struggling. I believe mental health is the greatest thief of human potential in the world today. But I also believe that harnessing the empirical, abstract, sometimes theoretical structures from rigorous research and combining that with empathetic advocacy and policy forms one of the most powerful tools in society today for combatting existing societal stigmas and issues such as mental illness. Someday in the future, I will lead my state’s, country’s, perhaps world’s efforts in returning that potential to the billions living with mental illness worldwide.

“You’re crazy. It’s because of your screen time. Get off your phone and all your worries will disappear,” my parents remarked two years ago, stunned by my sudden withdrawal during the pandemic. Once an outgoing, high-achieving student, I became reclusive, spending hours in isolation, consumed by YouTube and video games, avoiding any social interaction. My life felt surreal; my room, a dark cave where I hid from the world. One night, after emerging for a late snack, I overheard my mother whisper to my father, “I think he’s suicidal. He has Xīnlǐ bìng [mental illness]. Let’s bring him to the psychologist.” I was shocked; I hadn’t realized how visible my struggles had become, nor did I think my mother understood them. Despite her concerns, she never sought help, hindered by the cultural stigma of mental illness and the pressures of the model minority myth, which dictates maintaining “face” and suppressing emotional struggles in our high-achieving Chinese American community. The model minority myth fetishizes Asian Americans, reducing us to stereotypes and rendering any deviation invisible. It was at a national mental health convention, speaking about my journey as a high-achieving Asian American, that I first felt recognized beyond this stereotype. There, I adopted a new identity: an advocate with a voice determined to challenge these oppressive norms. Thus, we’re left with two options. Defiance or complicity. Rise against traditional stereotypes or stand with our back turned to conventional power hierarchies. If we as Asian Americans choose the latter, we are indeed both the model and the minority, and we deserve both its conferred privileges and perils. That’s why I engage in mental health advocacy— to be a part of an effort to better mental health, to rise against oppressive societal structures, harnessing the power of research, policy, advocacy, and education to combat the invisible violence that has plagued not only me and my closest friends, but communities anywhere and everywhere else. Consequently, for the past four years, I have dedicated my extracurriculars towards promoting mental health, particularly for high-achieving Asian American youth in a school-based context. Through my various advocacy and research projects, I’ve sought to dismantle the inequalities perpetuated by the model minority myth and other systemic barriers. By advocating for equitable access to culturally informed mental health services, I aim to ensure that all individuals, regardless of their background, receive the support they need. I spearheaded SchoolSight, a mental health project that has secured over $125,000 in grant funding to date for the development of universal wellness spaces in Westchester County. I have championed the principle of youth co-design in mental health systems at numerous conferences, including NAMICon, and have had four peer-reviewed manuscripts on community-based participatory mental health research accepted for publication. I am on the NYS PTA’s Board of Directors, W2BW’s National Student Advisory Council, and Strong365’s inaugural Teen Advisory Board. I am JED's 2024 SVMHA recipient and on Mental Health America’s 2023-2024 Young Leader’s Council. Looking forward, I hope to pursue an MD/MPP in the future and better mental health care for communities that may be struggling. I believe mental health is the greatest thief of human potential in the world today. But I also believe that harnessing the empirical, abstract, sometimes theoretical structures from rigorous research and combining that with empathetic advocacy and policy forms one of the most powerful tools in society today for combatting existing societal stigmas and issues such as mental illness. I hope that someday in the future, I can lead my state’s, country’s, perhaps world’s efforts in returning that potential to the billions living with mental illness worldwide.

“You’re crazy. It’s because of your screen time. Get off your phone and all your worries will disappear.” I heard those words two years ago from my parents, astonished at the level of diminished social interaction from their supposedly outgoing, high-achieving, independent high school standout. Loving family, privileged childhood. But not long after the global pandemic struck, my isolation skyrocketed and my loving family faded into a cataclysmic cave of ostracization. I spent 12 hours isolated in my room, watching YouTube, playing every video game you can name, refusing to eat dinner with family, or even hop on FaceTime with friends out of utter depression and a lack of intrinsic motivation to live life normally. Virtual school felt strange, life transcended surrealism, my perpetually dimly lit room was nothing short of phantasmagorical, and simply put, I felt stuck. And the day came. I had come home, locked myself in a dark room for 8 hours, and finally came out of hibernation for some sustenance at 11 pm. And that’s when I heard it. My mother fiercely whispered something barely audible to my father downstairs. Here’s what she said word for word, transcribed by my horrified self from Mandarin to English, lines 1-3 in the notes app on my phone, dated 4/22/2022. I think he’s suicidal. He has Xīnlǐ bìng [mental illness]. Let’s bring him to the psychologist. I was speechless, and to this day, I’m still speechless. I didn’t think I was struggling with my mental health, and I surely didn’t think my mother knew I was. I had missed every subtle cue she gave me, whether it was asking if I needed help with anything out of the blue when I came home with a melancholic smile or if I wanted to talk to her about anything. No, I had missed everything. Yet, my mother didn’t tell anyone about her hypothesis, however, and instead succumbed to a cultural stigma associated with a “disease of the mind.” She never reached out to a psychologist. Or for that matter, anyone in general. And I blame the model minority myth for her inability to seek professional help for me after countless conversations with my parents. Coming from a high-achieving Chinese American community that prioritizes the importance of maintaining “face”, my parents emphasize the value of hard work and perseverance, and minimize the discussion of emotional and mental struggles, resulting in their reluctance to seek help for me. We’re supposed to always remain strong. Our struggles are invisible under the pressure of the model minority myth. I have realized that the model minority myth fetishizes us. It reduces a broad swath of the world’s population to a simple stereotype. It forces unwarranted expectations on Asian American youth and makes any struggle to live up to them invisible. Recently, when I was invited to speak at a national mental health convention about the specifics of my mental health journey as a “high-achieving” Asian American, a passionate Chinese-American mental health advocate was painted onto my previously faceless part of an “Asian invasion.” I had a face, a name, a voice, a history, a crusade, a consciousness, a rage. Thus, we’re left with two options. Defiance or complicity. Rise against traditional stereotypes or stand with our back turned to conventional power hierarchies. If we as Asian Americans choose the latter, we are indeed both the model and the minority, and we deserve both its conferred privileges and perils. And that’s why I engage in mental health advocacy—I want to be a part of an enduring effort to better mental health policy, to rise against societal structures meant to oppress people, harnessing the power of research, policy, advocacy, and education in an effort to combat the invisible violence that has plagued not only me and my closest friends, but communities anywhere and everywhere else. And consequently, for the past four years, I have dedicated all of my extracurricular efforts towards promoting youth mental health, particularly for high-achieving Asian American youth in a school-based context. Through my various advocacy and research projects, I’ve sought to dismantle the inequalities perpetuated by the model minority myth and other systemic barriers. By advocating for equitable access to culturally informed mental health services, I aim to ensure that all individuals, regardless of their background, receive the support they need. I spearheaded SchoolSight, a mental health project that has secured over $125,000 in grant funding to date for the development of universal wellness spaces in Westchester County. I have championed the principle of youth co-design in mental health systems at numerous conferences, including NAMICon, CASEL, NFF, and have published four peer-reviewed manuscripts on community-based participatory mental health research. I am on New York State PTA’s Board of Directors, lead a team on Work2BeWell’s National Student Advisory Council, and am the chairperson of Strong365’s inaugural Teen Advisory Board. I am JED's 2024 SVMHA recipient and the youngest member of Mental Health America’s 2023-2024 Youth Leader’s Council. I believe mental health is the greatest thief of human potential in the world today. But I also believe that harnessing the empirical, abstract, sometimes theoretical structures from rigorous research and combining that with empathetic advocacy and policy forms one of the most powerful tools in society today for combatting existing societal stigmas and issues such as mental illness. I hope that someday in the future, I can lead my state’s, country’s, perhaps world’s efforts in returning that potential to the billions living with mental illness worldwide.

“You’re crazy. It’s your screen time. Get off your phone and your worries will disappear,” my parents remarked two years ago, stunned by my sudden withdrawal during the pandemic. Once an outgoing, high-achieving student, I became reclusive, spending hours in isolation, consumed by YouTube and video games, avoiding any social interaction. My life felt surreal; my room, a dark cave where I hid from the world. One night, after emerging for a late snack, I overheard my mother whisper to my father, “I think he’s suicidal. He has Xīnlǐ bìng [mental illness]. Let’s bring him to the psychologist.” I was shocked; I hadn’t realized how visible my struggles had become, nor did I think my mother understood them. Despite her concerns, she never sought help, hindered by the cultural stigma of mental illness and the pressures of the model minority myth, which dictates maintaining “face” and suppressing emotional struggles in our high-achieving Chinese American community. The model minority myth fetishizes Asian Americans, reducing us to stereotypes and rendering any deviation invisible. It was at a national mental health convention, speaking about my journey as a high-achieving Asian American, that I first felt recognized beyond this stereotype. There, I adopted a new identity: an advocate with a voice determined to challenge these oppressive norms. Thus, we’re left with two options. Defiance or complicity. Rise against traditional stereotypes or stand with our back turned to conventional power hierarchies. If we as Asian Americans choose the latter, we are indeed both the model and the minority, and we deserve both its conferred privileges and perils. That’s why I engage in mental health advocacy— to be a part of an effort to better mental health, to rise against oppressive societal structures, harnessing the power of research, policy, advocacy, and education to combat the invisible violence that has plagued not only me and my closest friends, but communities anywhere and everywhere else. Consequently, for the past four years, I have dedicated my extracurriculars towards promoting mental health, particularly for high-achieving Asian American youth in a school-based context. Through my various advocacy and research projects, I’ve sought to dismantle the inequalities perpetuated by the model minority myth and other systemic barriers. By advocating for equitable access to culturally informed mental health services, I aim to ensure that all individuals, regardless of their background, receive the support they need. I spearheaded SchoolSight, a mental health project that has secured over $125,000 in grant funding to date for the development of universal wellness spaces in Westchester County. I have championed the principle of youth co-design in mental health systems at numerous conferences, including NAMICon, and have had four peer-reviewed manuscripts on community-based participatory mental health research accepted for publication. I am on the NYS PTA’s Board of Directors, W2BW’s National Student Advisory Council, and Strong365’s inaugural Teen Advisory Board. I am JED's 2024 SVMHA recipient and on Mental Health America’s 2023-2024 Young Leader’s Council. Looking forward, I hope to concentrate in Psychology and Government at Harvard University, then pursue an MD/MPP with the ultimate goal of bettering mental health care for communities that may be struggling. Mental health is the greatest thief of human potential in the world today. Harnessing the empirical, abstract, sometimes theoretical structures from rigorous research and combining that with empathetic advocacy and policy forms one of the most powerful tools in society today for combatting existing societal stigmas and issues such as mental illness. I hope that someday in the future, I can lead my state’s, country’s, perhaps world’s efforts in returning that potential to the billions living with mental illness worldwide.

“You’re crazy. It’s because of your screen time. Get off your phone and all your worries will disappear,” my parents remarked two years ago, stunned by my sudden withdrawal during the pandemic. Once an outgoing, high-achieving student, I became reclusive, spending hours in isolation, consumed by YouTube and video games, avoiding any social interaction. My life felt surreal; my room, a dark cave where I hid from the world. One night, after emerging for a late snack, I overheard my mother whisper to my father, “I think he’s suicidal. He has Xīnlǐ bìng [mental illness]. Let’s bring him to the psychologist.” I was shocked; I hadn’t realized how visible my struggles had become, nor did I think my mother understood them. Despite her concerns, she never sought help, hindered by the cultural stigma of mental illness and the pressures of the model minority myth, which dictates maintaining “face” and suppressing emotional struggles in our high-achieving Chinese American community. The model minority myth fetishizes Asian Americans, reducing us to stereotypes and rendering any deviation invisible. It was at a national mental health convention, speaking about my journey as a high-achieving Asian American, that I first felt recognized beyond this stereotype. There, I adopted a new identity: an advocate with a voice determined to challenge these oppressive norms. Thus, we’re left with two options. Defiance or complicity. Rise against traditional stereotypes or stand with our back turned to conventional power hierarchies. If we as Asian Americans choose the latter, we are indeed both the model and the minority, and we deserve both its conferred privileges and perils. That’s why I engage in mental health advocacy— to be a part of an effort to better mental health, to rise against oppressive societal structures, harnessing the power of research, policy, advocacy, and education to combat the invisible violence that has plagued not only me and my closest friends, but communities anywhere and everywhere else. Consequently, for the past four years, I have dedicated my extracurriculars towards promoting mental health, particularly for high-achieving Asian American youth in a school-based context. Through my various advocacy and research projects, I’ve sought to dismantle the inequalities perpetuated by the model minority myth and other systemic barriers. By advocating for equitable access to culturally informed mental health services, I aim to ensure that all individuals, regardless of their background, receive the support they need. I spearheaded SchoolSight, a mental health project that has secured over $125,000 in grant funding to date for the development of universal wellness spaces in Westchester County. I have championed the principle of youth co-design in mental health systems at numerous conferences, including NAMICon, and have had four peer-reviewed manuscripts on community-based participatory mental health research accepted for publication. I am on the NYS PTA’s Board of Directors, W2BW’s National Student Advisory Council, and Strong365’s inaugural Teen Advisory Board. I am JED's 2024 SVMHA recipient and on Mental Health America’s 2023-2024 Young Leader’s Council. Looking forward, I hope to pursue an MD/MPP in the future and better mental health care for communities that may be struggling. I believe mental health is the greatest thief of human potential in the world today. But I also believe that harnessing the empirical, abstract, sometimes theoretical structures from rigorous research and combining that with empathetic advocacy and policy forms one of the most powerful tools in society today for combatting existing societal stigmas and issues such as mental illness. I hope that someday in the future, I can lead my state’s, country’s, perhaps world’s efforts in returning that potential to the billions living with mental illness worldwide.

“You’re crazy. It’s because of your screen time. Get off your phone and all your worries will disappear.” I heard those words two years ago from my parents, astonished at the level of diminished social interaction from their supposedly outgoing, high-achieving, independent high school standout. Loving family, privileged childhood. But not long after the global pandemic struck, my isolation skyrocketed and my loving family faded into a cataclysmic cave of ostracization. I spent 12 hours isolated in my room, watching YouTube, playing every video game you can name, refusing to eat dinner with family, or even hop on FaceTime with friends out of utter depression and a lack of intrinsic motivation to live life normally. Virtual school felt strange, life transcended surrealism, my perpetually dimly lit room was nothing short of phantasmagorical, and simply put, I felt stuck. And the day came. I had come home, locked myself in a dark room for 8 hours, and finally came out of hibernation for some sustenance at 11 pm. And that’s when I heard it. My mother fiercely whispered something barely audible to my father downstairs. Here’s what she said word for word, transcribed by my horrified self from Mandarin to English, lines 1-3 in the notes app on my phone, dated 4/22/2022. I think he’s suicidal. He has Xīnlǐ bìng [mental illness]. Let’s bring him to the psychologist. I was speechless, and to this day, I’m still speechless. I didn’t think I was struggling with my mental health, and I surely didn’t think my mother knew I was. I had missed every subtle cue she gave me, whether it was asking if I needed help with anything out of the blue when I came home with a melancholic smile or if I wanted to talk to her about anything. No, I had missed everything. Yet, my mother didn’t tell anyone about her hypothesis, however, and instead succumbed to a cultural stigma associated with a “disease of the mind.” She never reached out to a psychologist. Or for that matter, anyone in general. And I blame the model minority myth for her inability to seek professional help for me after countless conversations with my parents. Coming from a high-achieving Chinese American community that prioritizes the importance of maintaining “face”, my parents emphasize the value of hard work and perseverance, and minimize the discussion of emotional and mental struggles, resulting in their reluctance to seek help for me. We’re supposed to always remain strong. Our struggles are invisible under the pressure of the model minority myth. I have realized that the model minority myth fetishizes us. It reduces a broad swath of the world’s population to a simple stereotype. It forces unwarranted expectations on Asian American youth and makes any struggle to live up to them invisible. Recently, when I was invited to speak at a national mental health convention about the specifics of my mental health journey as a “high-achieving” Asian American, a passionate Chinese-American mental health advocate was painted onto my previously faceless part of an “Asian invasion.” I had a face, a name, a voice, a history, a crusade, a consciousness, a rage. Thus, we’re left with two options. Defiance or complicity. Rise against traditional stereotypes or stand with our back turned to conventional power hierarchies. If we as Asian Americans choose the latter, we are indeed both the model and the minority, and we deserve both its conferred privileges and perils. And that’s why I engage in mental health advocacy—I want to be a part of an enduring effort to better mental health policy, to rise against societal structures meant to oppress people, harnessing the power of research, policy, advocacy, and education in an effort to combat the invisible violence that has plagued not only me and my closest friends, but communities anywhere and everywhere else. And consequently, for the past four years, I have dedicated all of my extracurricular efforts towards promoting youth mental health, particularly for high-achieving Asian American youth in a school-based context. Through my various advocacy and research projects, I’ve sought to dismantle the inequalities perpetuated by the model minority myth and other systemic barriers. By advocating for equitable access to culturally informed mental health services, I aim to ensure that all individuals, regardless of their background, receive the support they need. I spearheaded SchoolSight, a mental health project that has secured over $125,000 in grant funding to date for the development of universal wellness spaces in Westchester County. I have championed the principle of youth co-design in mental health systems at numerous conferences, including NAMICon, CASEL, NFF, and SMWC, and have had four peer-reviewed manuscripts on community-based participatory mental health research accepted for publication. I am on New York State PTA’s Board of Directors, lead a team on Work2BeWell’s National Student Advisory Council, and am the chairperson of Strong365’s inaugural Teen Advisory Board. I am JED's 2024 SVMHA recipient and the youngest member of Mental Health America’s 2023-2024 Youth Leader’s Council. An impassioned speaker, a personable and engaging individual, and a dedicated mental health advocate, I am well-positioned to be an impactful changemaker not only in the lives of my peers but on every level of youth behavioral health engagement and accessibility. I hope to pursue an MD/MPP in the future and better mental health care for communities that may be struggling. I believe mental health is the greatest thief of human potential in the world today. But I also believe that harnessing the empirical, abstract, sometimes theoretical structures from rigorous research and combining that with empathetic advocacy and policy forms one of the most powerful tools in society today for combatting existing societal stigmas and issues such as mental illness. I hope that someday in the future, I can lead my state’s, country’s, perhaps world’s efforts in returning that potential to the billions living with mental illness worldwide.