Growing up, arts education was never just an elective—it was how I made sense of the world and myself. From an early age, I gravitated toward expression, whether through sketching characters, writing little stories, or watching movies with curiosity. I didn’t always have the words to explain why I loved creating, but I knew I felt most alive when I was immersed in art. It became a quiet form of resilience, especially during times when life felt uncertain—especially as a female, Chinese and Vietnamese filmmaker. I now understand how daunting it can be to step into such a male, American-dominated industry. But filmmaking has allowed me to become a passionate advocate for diversity and inclusivity. I know how hard it is for underrepresented communities to express themselves, so I strive to challenge the status quo and be an example for others. Attending the Orange County School of the Arts gave me the space to take that passion seriously. Their extensive film program allowed me to meet industry professionals, access professional equipment, and learn from teachers who encouraged creativity. That competitive, driven environment fueled my desire to succeed as a cinematographer. I was honored to be nominated for the OC Register Artist of the Year in 2023 and to win Best Director at the Film and Television Awards during my senior year. With this newfound drive, I continued my education at Cal State Long Beach. To my disappointment, CSU Long Beach didn’t offer the strong film program I had hoped for, but I sought out every opportunity I could find. I joined video production clubs, entered contests, and worked on as many sets as possible to grow my skills and network. But I craved a more rigorous environment, one that pushed me to grow among passionate peers, industry mentors, and better resources. That hunger led me to transfer to the University of Southern California to pursue film more seriously. Still, what kept me grounded was seeing how art builds community. The most inspiring creators I’ve met weren’t always from prestigious programs. Many were self-taught, under-recognized, yet unbelievably talented. They created magic from limited resources and treated art not just as a skill, but as identity and power. Even now, at one of the best film programs in the country, I recognize that the community I’ve built has been just as valuable as formal education. If I had to name those who’ve inspired me most, it would be my parents and my partner. My parents aren’t traditional artists, but they taught me to observe closely, care deeply, and persevere through uncertainty. As immigrants, they never stopped me from chasing my dream. Their quiet strength gave me the space to believe in myself. My partner, a film producer, taught me the importance of community, but also reminded me to dream. In the grind of filmmaking, it’s easy to forget that art is about freedom, the freedom to tell stories that connect us, to create meaning beyond everyday life. He reminds me that to truly love this craft, I have to dare to dream. Now, as I continue my journey in film, I carry with me all those early influences—the passion, the community, and the quiet encouragement of those who believed in me. I don’t just want to make beautiful films. I want to make honest ones. Arts education showed me that the most powerful stories don’t need to be loud—they just need to be true.

Growing up, arts education was more than just an elective or hobby—it was how I processed the world and made sense of myself. From an early age, I gravitated toward expression, whether through sketching characters, writing little stories, or watching movies with intense curiosity. I didn’t always have the words to explain why I loved creating things, but I knew I felt most alive when I was immersed in art. It became a quiet form of resilience, especially during times when life felt uncertain or overwhelming. I went to the Orange County School of the Arts for my high school, where they had an extensive film program. There, I was given the opportunity to meet industry professionals, have access to expensive equipment, and teachers that encouraged creativity. In that environment, the competition nourished my passion to succeed in the craft of cinematography. I was nominated for the OC Register Artist of the Year 2023, as well as won Best Director at the Film and Television Awards in senior year. With this newfound sense of drive, I continued my film education at Cal State Long Beach. To my disappointment, CSU Long Beach didn’t have the strongest film program like I had read on the internet, but I sought out any opportunity I could find. I joined video production clubs, entered small film contests, and helped with other sets to expand my network. However, the drive that I had for film pushed me to surround myself with a more rigorous program, industry professionals, and equipment. I needed a motivational environment filled with urgency to fuel my passion. I transferred to the University of Southern California to pursue my film career further. However, what kept me going was seeing how art could build community. The creative people around me—many of them under-recognized or self-taught—showed me that talent doesn’t always come from a perfect background. Even though I am now attending one of the best film programs in the country, I received support from the community I built with those around me. Some of the most inspiring people I’ve met were my peers who film because it’s a form of expression. They created magic from limited resources, and they treated the arts not just as a skill, but as a form of identity and power. If I had to name the people who inspired me most, it would be my parents and my partner. My parents aren’t artists in the traditional sense, but they taught me to observe closely and care deeply. They had a quiet strength and creativity that showed up their life experiences and how they carried our family through hard times. As immigrants from another country, they have never stopped me from chasing my dream. Her trust gave me the space to take myself seriously. My partner, a film producer, did not only teach me the importance of community, but reminded me to dream. With reality being part of our everyday lives, I forget the freedom of expression art and film offers artists, to relay a message and create a bridge between us and our audience. He reminds me that to truly be one with the love of filmmaking, I have to dare to dream. Now, as I continue pursuing film, I carry with me all those early influences—the passion, the community, and the quiet encouragement of people who believed in me. I don’t just want to make beautiful films. I want to make honest ones. Arts education showed me that the most powerful stories don’t need to be loud to be impactful. They just need to be true.

Physical exercise has always been an outlet for me. With a background in soccer for 16 years, I’ve always found motivation in movement. My athletic journey wasn’t limited to soccer—I explored Taekwondo, bouldering, and calisthenics. More recently, I completed the Spartan Race, and crossing that finish line reminded me how deeply rewarding physical challenges can be. Staying active was always about community, well-being, and the joy of pushing my limits. However, as life grew more demanding, my relationship with fitness began to shift. Between school, work, and personal responsibilities, I found it harder to make time for exercise in the way I used to. I started viewing workouts more as a means to chase physical results than as a source of joy or stress relief. Despite following every piece of advice or routine I came across, I found myself caught in a cycle: striving for results, stressing to maintain them, hitting plateaus, and feeling defeated. The very thing that once gave me energy and confidence started draining me. It was hard to admit that something I once loved had become a source of pressure. I had taken a mindset that once helped me succeed—discipline and drive—and pushed it to the extreme. I was burning out, mentally and physically. My muscles were sore beyond reason, and my mind was constantly foggy. I wasn’t listening to my body or giving myself the space to rest. In chasing quick results, I had lost sight of the bigger picture: long-term health, balance, and happiness. That realization became a turning point. I decided to slow down. Instead of pushing myself to work out six days a week, I allowed for three days of true rest. I replaced intense workouts with lower-impact movement like Pilates and long walks, giving myself a chance to enjoy nature and unwind. I also reexamined my relationship with food. Where I used to restrict certain groups or overthink portions, I chose instead to nourish myself with more flexibility and kindness. This shift didn’t just help physically—I began to feel more present, more rested, and more at peace. I stopped punishing my body for not performing and started listening to what it needed. And in doing so, I rediscovered my love for being active. It became something I looked forward to again, rather than a requirement tied to aesthetics or numbers. Most importantly, this experience taught me lessons that go far beyond fitness. I’ve learned the value of slowing down, of not rushing the process just to reach a goal faster. We live in a world obsessed with instant results, but sometimes, the most important growth happens when we give ourselves permission to step back and see the bigger picture. This mindset has also changed the way I approach other areas of my life. In school, I now allow myself to learn at my own pace, knowing that understanding something deeply is more important than rushing through it. As a film student aspiring to work in cinematography, I’ve realized that stepping back can help me see a broader visual narrative. Being hyper-focused on technical details sometimes causes us to miss creative opportunities. Perspective is everything. I’m grateful that I went through this now—when the stakes were low—so I can carry these lessons into my future. By learning to pace myself, listen inwardly, and prioritize sustainability over perfection, I feel more prepared for whatever challenges come next.

I’m a filmmaker with a camera in hand and fire in my heart, specializing in cinematography that doesn’t just show stories, but feels them. Before I was able to experience the full capabilities of expensive cameras, lights, and equipment, my passion for filmmaking and storytelling went beyond the act of it. I was simply there because I loved to dream, and I wanted to share that with those around me. As I’ve carried this drive throughout my childhood to adulthood, reality creeped its way in. Though I still hold my passion close, I’ve realized that as an Asian American woman, the film industry has not always made space for voices like mine. I’m here to carve space, hold it open, and welcome others in. My work is driven by the belief that storytelling is connection, visual poetry that bridges human experience. Whether I’m framing a quiet moment or capturing a whirlwind of emotion, I aim to move people, not just entertain them. Storytelling has always been my creative outlet and compass. It’s a visual language that I use to connect with the world around me, and to lead me to like-minded creatives. I’ve spent years developing my artistic eye, from being awarded Best Director at the Orange County High School of the Arts to now continuing my education at the University of Southern California. But my passion for film goes far beyond creativity visuals. At its heart, storytelling is a bridge between people — and I want to build a community that gives more people the tools to cross it. However, I believe that contributing to the artistic community is more than being creative. Empathy, collaboration, and community are the foundation of everything I create and stand by. Filmmaking isn’t a solo act, it’s a symphony. I thrive on that teamwork, on building something meaningful together. I want to inspire the idea that everyone deserves to dream, and more importantly, to chase those dreams. That’s why I’m here: not just to tell stories, but to be part of a movement. I want every young, female, male, minority or majority filmmaker watching from the sidelines to realize that there are plenty of opportunities through the power you hold in your voice. Although the issues arising with technology are concerning, I don’t fully see it as a concerning problem. I believe that if I continue to do what I love to at the extent that I do, the people who seek my talent are the ones who stay true. AI is similar to a sickness; it is simply a means of weeding out the weak in a sea of mediocrity. Overuse of anything is what leads to disaster, so as long as one keeps their core philosophies, there is still room to express and dream creatively. I knew that from a young age I wanted to create stories from the heart, not for fame or financial gain. Allowing myself to express my creativity and passion for visual storytelling brings me closer to chasing my dreams, but also to my like-minded peers. Filmmaking is a means to bring people together through shared experiences, emotions, and love for human connection. I want my audience to walk away feeling how I felt watching Everything, Everywhere, All at Once. Between the swirling chaos, brilliant stunt choreography, stunning visuals and dynamic camera movement, as well as the touching story between a traditional mother and a growing Asian-American daughter, the drive I felt to convey that same connection and emotion in the films I create increased tenfold. Film and media has the potential to break or to move people. I’m here because I want to nurture movement, not regression. I want to tell stories that matter, but I cannot do it alone. I want to build a community that changes the frame.