Hong Kong. The aroma of curry fish balls, the humid air coating my skin, the sweet taste of Hong Kong-style milk tea on my tongue. The city my parents grew up in. My second home. Hong Kong is also my grandma, the foul smell of the elderly facility, and the sound of her cheap walker aiding her half-paralyzed body. My dad’s mom, a stroke survivor, kindled my passion for engineering--specifically to create assistive technology. Our occasional visits to see grandma from a young age were not just reunions, but also expeditions to an entirely new world. As a second-grader, I analyzed the simple yet supportive walker that my grandma used to creep around the elderly home. As a middle schooler, I peeked into the facility bathrooms, marveling at the differently shaped bathtubs that made bathing accessible to feeble bodies. Now at the end of high school, my interest in assistive technologies has continued to flourish even when grandma is on the other side of the world. I frequently see the need for better assistive technology, especially in a household with three physical therapists (my parents and my sister). Conversations over dinner are typically composed of discussing patients’ severe gait abnormalities, Parkinson’s disease, and cerebral palsy. I learned about the apparatus used to strengthen their patients, and what physical training methods worked and failed. But what intrigued me most are the prostheses that allow patients to perform daily tasks again. Whenever I see grandma, who is paralyzed on the left side of her body, I can’t help but think about how lucky I am to have the ability to move. Since I was ten, I’ve danced ballet, modern, and contemporary styles. Any open space calls me to fill it with movement. My fascination for the human body and its capacities in dance compels me to help individuals suffering from motor disorders gain a sense of autonomy with their bodies. Nonetheless, assistive technologies are costly and exclusive, even when everyone should have accessibility to engineering innovations. According to the World Health Organization, 80% of people living with disabilities live in developing countries, where there is limited access to treatment for disabilities. So as I'm studying engineering, I am not only thinking of creating the most effective innovations but I will also brainstorm with materials scientists to identify affordable, recyclable materials to manufacture prostheses that are not costly, not harmful to the environment, and easy to transport to underserved communities. As a woman and a daughter of immigrant parents who is passionate about engineering equity, I hope to contribute a culture of inclusivity to tech companies. Engineering is a discipline centered on improving the world. Therefore, engineering needs to be diversified to meet all needs. In my best Cantonese possible, I can’t wait to tell my grandma all about my next engineering project…

Not low enough. I stare at the number on the scale. I grew up dancing in tight leotards and with dance teachers who told students to lose weight. This environment developed body insecurities and the determination to be thinner. When I stopped eating regularly, I no longer menstruated or enjoyed eating with others, fearing the ambiguous fats in restaurants and even home-cooked meals. Aware that my physical health was at risk, I was determined to nurture a healthy relationship with food--even if it meant gaining weight. I grew to love cooking and sharing my creations with family, and I ate with my family and friends because foods aren’t just numbers but memories that nourish me emotionally. As I learned how to care for my body, I also learned about types of eating disorders and the most common causes. I realized how prevalent eating disorders are in the ballet world. I am unquestionably lucky that I didn’t suffer fatal consequences and had a sister I could talk to. Nonetheless, numerous women, men, and children who engage in life-threatening behaviors to alter their appearance may not have support. Today, I openly share my experience at my performing arts school and at my church knowing that it can help someone. This perspective-altering experience inspires me to destigmatize eating disorders and encourage others to respect their body too. Since I started dancing at 10 years old, I've been hyperaware of my body, feeling the need to change it. But almost 8 years later, I realize that this is the only body I'll have in my lifetime, and it allows me to dance, hug, and laugh. As I’m dancing in front of the mirror, I may not always love what I see, but I choose to accept and care for my wonderfully made body.

1. “Ser Ser, did you know that the most expensive coffee is made out of cat poop?” asks my dad as he’s sipping coffee. I giggle in disbelief at my dad’s question. It’s true-- the Asian Palm Cat’s digestive enzymes actually reduce the bitterness of the beverage. While my dad’s spontaneous questions are unsolicited, they deepen my understanding of the world. Strolling by a Tesla car, he questions: “What is Nikola Tesla famous for?” Somehow, we’re intensely delineating the war of currents between Edison and Tesla. Perusing Dollar Tree, he points to a cup and asks: “How could this design be improved?” Soon, we’re proposing new designs that would enhance the grip of the glass. When there was no answer to his question, however, I was left craving that satisfaction of knowing. I’ve inherited my dad’s insatiable itch to find answers. While adults scolded my ceaseless questions growing up, my dad encourages me to pursue them. Whether I’m asking my calculus teacher about the applications of derivatives in physics or conversing with an Uber driver about his family in Afghanistan, questions initiate meaningful conversations that broaden my perspective and keep me keen on the needs of our society. Consequently, I’ve explored questions that I want to dedicate my life to answering: what materials can make prosthetics durable and affordable? What technologies could detect liver cancer as early as possible? Thanks to my dad, I will never stop seeking answers--not just for my own gratification, but because there are people in need. 2. The day before trash day, the optimal time for my sister and I to cruise the asphalt roads on our scooters, admiring the furniture and appliances strewn along sidewalks. We call ourselves “Lucky Litter”--within a three-block radius, we acquire a menagerie of treasures that we splay in our backyard. I fostered my passion for mechanical engineering through this pastime. Hours flew by when we disassembled our newfound objects. Observing bike gears fleshed out as a desire to manufacture vehicles. Analyzing broken objects gradually became an interest in material science. Not only did “Lucky Litter” allow me to see the impact engineering has on our daily lives, it also highlighted the abundant waste tainting our environment. Today, I’m still riding my scooter, yearning to explore the versatility of mechanical engineering, especially in the context of our climate crisis. I can delve into innovating electric cars, conducting research on the process of creating lithium-ion EV batteries. Maker spaces will be my new backyard, where I’ll work with other students to maufacture recyclable prosthetics. I can take material science classes to improve the integrity of my innovations, reducing overall waste. Mechanical engineering is a vast road that grants me the chance to engineer a safer and more sustainable future in a myriad of ways, and the child-like curiosity I’ve kept since “Lucky Litter” will guide me on this journey. 3. Not low enough. I stare at the number on the scale. I grew up dancing in tight leotards and with dance teachers who told students to lose weight. This environment developed body insecurities and the determination to be thinner. When I stopped eating regularly, I no longer menstruated or enjoyed eating with others, fearing the ambiguous fats in restaurants and even home-cooked meals. Aware that my physical health was at risk, I was determined to nurture a healthy relationship with food--even if it meant gaining weight. I grew to love cooking and sharing my creations with family, and I ate with my family and friends because foods aren’t just numbers but memories that nourish me emotionally. As I learned how to care for my body, I also learned about types of eating disorders and the most common causes. I realized how prevalent eating disorders are in the ballet world. I am unquestionably lucky that I didn’t suffer fatal consequences and had a sister I could talk to. Nonetheless, numerous women, men, and children who engage in life-threatening behaviors to alter their appearance may not have support. Today, I openly share my experience at my performing arts school and at my church knowing that it can help someone. As I’m dancing in front of the mirror, I may not always love what I see, but I learn to respect my body. With this experience, I hope that I can destigmatize eating disorders and inspire others to respect their body too.