My Filipino parents and I had drastically different upbringings. Growing up in a developing country with families who were just trying to get by, they weren’t exposed to the same experiences they introduced to me. They only knew Filipino food, and a few staples in Chinese cuisine. This narrow breadth of exposure was something they made sure not to pass onto me. Living in California’s San Francisco Bay Area, they were thrust into a melting pot of languages, cultures, and cuisines. They acquired a taste for sushi, Mexican food, Indian food, among many others. As their permanent plus one, I also developed a diverse palette. Albeit initially, all I wanted was the same lumpia shanghai and pancit canton, through sheer effort and consistency, they molded a picky child to an adult who eats nearly everything. The evolution of my taste buds very closely paralleled the evolution of my Starbucks order. Initially, I wouldn’t dare come near any drink other than a Strawberries and Cream. It was delicious, safe, with a hint of sweetness (i.e. a few tablespoons of sugar). In middle school, I upgraded to a Mocha Frappe, which was arguably also safe and sweet, but the touch of coffee added an extra kick. Around the same time I started enjoying sashimi, my Iced Matcha Latte obsession came in full force. In complete honesty, this addiction to the Iced Matcha Latte hasn’t faltered since high school. Later in high school, I had a friend whose home I’d visit every day after school. Her mom “Auntie T” would pick us up from school; and at their house, we’d chat, do homework, eat roti, and drink chai, until my parents came to pick me up. To this day, roti is one of my comfort foods. Conversely, chai wasn’t my favorite drink at the time, but years later, in college, I was standing in the Starbucks line, browsing the menu. And lo and behold, the Chai Tea Latte was advertised with a blown-up image, right on their seasonal menu. The first sip of the latte hit me with a wave of nostalgia. The taste reminded me of simpler times, when I wasn’t hooked on my next research experiment, when I was just another high schooler laughing with her friends and being cared for by Auntie T. Reflecting on my current autumnal go-to, the Chai Tea Latte, I realized the drink itself reminds me of change, specifically, gradual change that happens over the course of a decade. The kind of change that goes hand-in-hand with the evolution of taste buds. Yet the drink also induces comfort and peace, both of which remind me of how grateful I am to have met so many good people along the course of my life. While I have much to thank my parents for, their dedication to giving me a well-rounded understanding of various cultures is near the top of the list. After all, they did help me gain an appreciation of many flavors and spices.

In a few months, I’ll be pursuing a Master of Science in Biomedical Engineering at Columbia University. Initially, the program stood out due to its robust cellular and tissue engineering research opportunities. With the flexible curriculum, I plan on gaining a stronger understanding of treatment design and discovery. Wielding that knowledge, I’ll build a career focused on designing instruments for organ function regeneration. Following my interest in medicinal treatments, I shadowed a nephrologist and volunteered at a dialysis clinic, both of which were experiences that emphasized the pressing need for improvements in kidney disease treatments. Volunteering in different cities also highlighted the disparity in medical resources, which often leaves underrepresented communities with the shorter end of the stick. I’ve met many kind and despondent patients, whose only medicine came in the form of statins and dialysis treatments. Many of these patients were left to wait years for a transplant. Instead of leaving patients to wait, my ultimate goal is to produce an affordable treatment that reverses the effects of kidney disease. The interdisciplinary approach to Columbia’s program is deeply exciting because of the opportunity to work with faculty experienced in treatment development. During the months before graduate school, I’ve been (and will continue) molding my skills to set a strong foundation for medical engineering. With the prevalence of technology, this includes the consistent practicing of Python and MATLAB. Ultimately, these experiences provide the purpose and skills necessary to take me closer to my goal of advancing kidney treatments.

At the age of three, I boarded a plane with my mom, and suddenly, we were headed to California. Being raised in Mandaluyong and Nueva Ecija, my parents were Filipinos funneled into Western society. Hence, my upbringing was frequently imbued with Filipino values, which emphasized kindness, ingenuity, and strength. When high school rolled around, my friends and I joined a speech-and-debate program, where we became invested in current events and social justice. Due to that investment, I was glued to news articles and our local news station. That influx of information made me aware of two realities: 1) the homeless population in the San Francisco Bay Area was steadily increasing, which was associated with a decrease in community safety, and 2) some homeless people who’ve reached rock bottom want to be given the chance to work and contribute. Those understandings became my “Why?”: To spread kindness and positivity by giving a little boost to those who want to prosper. While brainstorming ways I could help make the Bay Area a safer and cleaner place, a random Facebook reel popped up, interviewing a woman who got laid off and lost her home. In the interview, she shared her experience job hunting. She explained many employers don’t want to hire those who don’t keep up with their personal hygiene, and unfortunately, the majority of unhoused people can’t afford to take care of their hygiene. Her message became my “What?”: To gift hygiene resources to a community with an impacted homeless population. Mission People Project (MPP) was thus born out of the “Why” and the “What”. With a day’s worth of Google research, I noticed the general consensus being Oakland as the most unsafe city in the Bay Area, and they also happened to have a sizeable homeless population. From that, I found my “Where?”: Oakland. All those factors brought me to the trickiest question to answer, the “How”. MPP was a program so much larger than one 16-year-old, and I knew more unhoused people could be helped if our program had some support. That was where Operation Dignity, Inc. came in. They already had reach into Oakland’s unhoused population, so donating hygiene packages for them to distribute would be infinitely more efficient than walking through the streets of Oakland, passing out care packages. Now, we had a means of distribution, but we were still without the care packages. We needed funding, but I didn’t know anyone with marketing or fundraising experience. At this point, I started to question whether this goal was too big. Not allowing myself too much time for second-guessing, the only solution was to tap into that Filipino ingenuity – it was time to get creative. With no graphic design experience, I created fundraising flyers, asked my teachers for editing suggestions, then started hanging them up around school and posting them on social media. After two weeks, we were able to raise enough money for 110 care packages. Assembling the care packages was gratifying, and delivering them to Oakland was even more fulfilling. Through weeks of planning and collaborating, the strength to push through doubts resulted in over 100 people getting resources to improve their lives. To the next generation of aspiring change-makers, here are words derived from my parents’ teachings: Let kindness be your purpose, let ingenuity make your purpose a reality, and let strength carry you to the finish line.