Born and raised on the rice fields of Taishan (rural China), I grew up wanting to be a farmer, like my grandparents. Life then was simple. I was mischievous in school and averaged Bs in my classes. I ran several small businesses on the side to create my own allowance.
I was in fourth grade and there were a few weeks left before the school year was supposed to finish. Unexpectedly, my mom organized a party for my school friends and I. She told me that I did not have to take the finals (this is the most exciting thing you can tell a fourth grader).
A few days later, my ten year old self followed my parents onto my first airplane. Little did I know, I was leaving this country behind, along with all my friends, memories, and everything I had known.
When I arrived at America, my English was terrible. I went to a middle school in Lower East Side that was filled with gang violence, apathy, and low expectations. I spent this period improving my English and becoming street smart.
During eighth grade, I took a free admission exam along 25,000 peers in hopes of getting a spot at one of NYC’s specialized high schools. Through hard work and luck, I scored high enough to attend HSMSE. I was ecstatic about this institution and was especially excited for the change of scenery.
During my four years in high school, I became the president of the Table Tennis Club, earned the top 6th spot on the honor roll, contributed 1,300 volunteering hours to my local Salvation Army, and became interested in engineering.
As the first from my family to ever apply to college, the process was very challenging. It was filled with confusion, self-doubt, self-discovery, and ambition. I applied to the best schools in the world because they offered good financial aid… and why not.
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On a snowy evening in December, I received a silver tube in the mail. Inside this tube was my acceptance letter to MIT. At this point, I believe that anything is possible.