What Would I Do If I Weren’t Afraid?

As a child, I have always been cautious. I was never the type to rush into things—instead, I would observe, test, think, and slowly inch out of my comfort zone.

Here’s what I would do if I weren’t afraid:

  • I would travel by myself, meet new people, and get immersed in different cultures
  • I would unabashedly photograph (and occasionally talk to) strangers
  • I would go backpacking in the wilderness and become a wildlife/nature photographer
  • I would learn to drive
  • I would drive to mountains and take photographs of the stars
  • I would ask more questions—lead with curiosity and the desire for knowledge
  • I would say how I really feel (be vulnerable) and show my true self (be authentic)
  • I would scuba dive
  • I would design and build a house
  • I would run a marathon
  • I would write and publish more op-eds
  • I would dedicate myself to a single pursuit and devote my whole life to it

Fear has been a large part of my life, for better or for worse. Yet it hasn’t really stopped me from following my dreams—because, for me, the fear of not pursuing my passions and being mediocre is stronger than the fear of failing.

As I made this list, I realized that most of the things I’m pursuing right now genuinely make me happy. Even though I’m not a professional photographer or traveling to the places of my dreams, I am in college to expand my mind and pursue a dream that I have had since childhood: space exploration. I’d say I’m on a pretty good path right now because most of the things on my list can be pursued on my current trajectory. And who knows–maybe some will be done this very year!


First Semester of College Reflections

My first semester has already gone by! College has been intense, stressful, stimulating, and incredibly fun—and for the most part, I love it.

Over the past few month, I’ve been constantly thinking about what I want out of my life and the kind of person I want to become. Here are some questions I’m asking:

  • Why am I at school? What is unique about a university setting? Why did I choose a liberal arts education over a technical institute?
  • What is the benefit of taking one more engineering class vs one class on anthropology, education, or religion, that will expand or even change the way I see the world? Should I go for depth or breadth as an undergraduate student?
  • Why must I study one subject in depth? What is the purpose of having a major?
  • What is the purpose of college? Is it to get a job, to meet people, or for the pursuit of knowledge?
  • What have I done with my life, and what am I doing? What do I want out of my life?
  • Why am I studying computer science when I can learn about humanity through other classes?
  • How do I develop deep knowledge? How can I apply what I learn in school to my everyday life?

Through mulling over these questions, here are some lessons I’ve learned and some conclusions I’ve drawn:

1. The purpose of college
To me, college is not just a preprofessional activity. I didn’t go to college to get a job, or even to become prepared for one. I went to college to see what was possible, and to learn about myself and the world around me.

I remember thinking that I could be anything if I went to college—I could go into law, or become a politician, or a writer. I remember thinking this would be the place where I could pick up a random hobby and keep it with me for the rest of my life—like glassblowing or pottery or something cool like that.

A semester later, although my starry-eyed optimism has faded and I am largely pursuing my original interests, I want to remember my purpose as I continue college. I don’t want to surround myself with only a homogeneous group of people, and I don’t want to do only a select number of activities. Instead, I want to grow and explore, to seek to understand and to be understood. I want to challenge and change my worldview.

There is a gate at Harvard with an inscription that reads, “Enter to grow in wisdom.” As you leave, it says, “Depart to serve better thy country and thy kind.” I want college to be a place where I grow not only intellectually, but as a person. I suppose that growth could happen anywhere, but I thought this was the best place for me to stretch myself and expose myself to such diverse people and ways of thinking.

I think at many points in the semester, I lost sight of my initial purpose—rather than exposing myself to the unknown, I stayed with what was comfortable because I was stressed and wanted to do well in my classes. I’m still trying to figure out the best tradeoff between pursuing what I’m already good at and taking the time to explore what I’ve never been exposed to.

2. Learning to let go of prejudices
One of the earliest things I learned—even before entering college—was how incredibly interesting people are and that I should never assume anything about anyone. For my preorientation program, I attended the Freshman Outdoors Program (FOP) in which I embarked on a week-long backpacking and canoeing trip in Maine with 12 other incoming freshman and two upperclassmen. I realized that the best way to truly know someone is to live with them in the wilderness for a few days.

During the next-to-last night during the trip, we all sat around a campfire and shared stories. We talked about things that we never talked about with most of our friends, sharing stories filled with our deepest secrets. I learned new things about the people I spent every hour with for the last five days.

One of my favorite things about college is the sheer diversity of people I have met. It’s amazing how many people I’ve encountered from all over the world—Syria, New Zealand, Kenya, Singapore, the Himalayas, and more. It’s sometimes easy to forget that we come from such different backgrounds and that my view of people sometimes reflects not only the people themselves but also of my preconceived ideas of where they come from and the type of people they are.

3. Evolving my mindset around technology
Coming from Silicon Valley, it was definitely different to see so many people opposing technology (or at least not being staunch supporters). I’ve had a few great conversations about the role of technology in our lives that have expanded my view of what high-tech has done and will continue to do.

Especially after leading tech and robotics clubs, I have always been a solid promotor of girls in technology. I guess I rarely thought about the implications of technology.

Being in a liberal arts environment forced me to see technology not as a bubble or in a vacuum, but with real-world implications. I now hope to use technology as a way to increase equality rather than decrease it.

4. Computer science (and how I love it)
CS was hard for me. I took a class called Machine Programming and Systems Organization. I guess it wasn’t too hard of a class on its own, but combined with three other heavy classes, I definitely felt stretched.

My first midterm was rough. I studied so much, but I walked out of the test thinking that I failed. Though I did better than I thought (because, as my grader wrote, “Partial credit is magic!”), I realized that even if I failed the class, even if I sucked at CS, I would still study it. Not because I had nothing else to study or no fall-back plan, but because I truly love it. I love the problem-solving, the dedication, the grind. I love that I can make things that didn’t exist before.

More than ever, I still believe in the power of technology to change the world, and I’m happy that even though I struggled, I’m still as committed as ever to studying computer science.

I’m also pretty sure I want to study Electrical Engineering along with computer science, and I think it’s a cool combination because of my interests in robotics and building things in the real world.

5. Change
So, have I changed? How am I a different person from who I was a few months ago, back when Harvard was just a distant place?

Well, for one, my knowledge of C has increased a lot, along with mathematical proofs and electrical engineering. I read many science fiction stories as well—but have they changed me fundamentally as a person? Have my values changed?

I would say no, and I’m not sure how I feel about that. If anything, my values have been reinforced.

And I think that’s okay, too. I don’t have to be transformed, but I do have to take in other opinions and values and think about how they relate to me.

My goals for next semester are:

  • Spend more time with friends and foster closer relationships
    • Even though I got to know a lot of people and am good friends with many, I don’t feel particularly close to anyone. (To be fair, I define “close” as knowing my soul, and I theirs.) I’m confident that these friendships will form; I believe close friendships only come with time and many shared experiences.
  • Get to know my professors better and speak up in class
    • I didn’t really make an effort to get to know my professors well, which is kind of a shame. I frequented office hours run by TFs, but was too shy to go to professor’s office hours. My CS professor seems super chill, but I definitely felt intimidated (especially in such a large classroom setting).
  • Do research!
    • Back when I was choosing which college I would attend, I stumbled upon a Youtube video with a professor that seemed super cool. I looked her up and thought she would be an amazing mentor. I met with her recently and I will be doing research with her next semester!
  • Join the running club
    • Before coming to college, I ran with the Gunn cross country team a bit over the summer. I was one of the slowest, but I didn’t care—I just wanted to run. For some reason, I didn’t do the same at Harvard—I think it was mostly self-consciousness, but also a bit of laziness. They are fast by my standards (around 7:30 min/mile for 5+ miles), but I hope to run with them sometime when I can reach their level.
  • Do a photography seminar or class. Fulfill my artistic side and channel my stress in a creative way
    • There were many points in the semester when I felt so much but didn’t have a way to express myself. In high school, I started writing poetry and doing photography. I had less time in college than I expected to unwind, but I hope to prioritize my mental well-being next semester.
  • Blog and journal more
    • Even though I did a lot of self-reflection, I didn’t record a lot of my thoughts.

Herland: Imagining a Female-Only Society

It’s fascinating how science fiction can show us how different our world can be. I think that’s also why I love history—I want to see and compare the different possibilities of how we can structure a society.

I’m currently taking a science fiction class taught by Prof. Steph Burt, and it’s been really amazing. There’s a lot more reading than I expected (and quite frankly, more than I can keep up with), but the diversity in books we read—with topics ranging from spaceships and Mars colonization to feminism and artificial intelligence—has been incredibly stimulating. This course has expanded my understanding of what science fiction is, and has made me see how science fiction can shed a light on current political and social issues.

One of the most intriguing works I’ve read so far during Thanksgiving Recess has been a novella called Herland by Charlotte Perkins Gilman*. Herland, which was published in 1909, is a thought-provoking tale about three men who venture into a society filled with only women. These three men have wildly different temperaments that reflect the different attitudes of men—one hoping to conquer the women, one idolizing them, and one with an air of scientific curiosity—and their reactions tell us much about our modern world.

For two thousand years, these females have been isolated from the outside world after a volcano erupted and created a seal around their society. They reproduce asexually and value motherhood above all. This single-gender society is depicted as a utopia—a world without poverty, war, or strife. The streets are immaculate, every female is equally well-educated, and the division of labor is clear and purposeful.

Here are some of my favorite quotes from the book:

  • On veganism: “It took some time to make clear to those three sweet-faced women the process which robs the cow of her calf, and the calf of its true food; and the talk led us into a further discussion of the meat business. They heard it out, looking very white, and presently begged to be excused” (41).
  • On femininity: “These women, whose essential distinction of motherhood was the dominant note of their whole culture, were strikingly deficient in what we call “femininity.” This led me very promptly to the conviction that those “feminine charms” we are so fond of are not feminine at all, but mere reflected masculinity—developed to please us because they had to please us, and in no way essential to the real fulfillment of their great process” (50).
  • On cooperation: “You see, they had no wars. They had no kings, and no priests, and no aristocracies. They were sisters, and as they grew, they grew together—not by competition, but by united action” (51).
  • On Motherhood: “The children in this country are the one center and focus of all our thoughts. Every step of our advance is always considered in its effect on them—on the race. You see, we are Mothers” (57).
  • On education: “The Herland child was born not only into a world carefully prepared, full of the most fascinating materials and opportunities to learn, but into the society of plentiful numbers of teachers, teachers born and trained, whose business it was to accompany the children along that, to us, impossible thing—the royal road to learning” (92).


While I don’t think having a society consisting of only females will solve all of our issues, this book forced me to recognize that many flaws of humankind—including violence, competition, and jealousy—can be traced primarily to the existence of men. Though this sounds sexist and extreme, I think we must confront the reality that for much of human history, wars have been started by men, and even our capitalistic society—which is derived from the masculine ideals of survival of the fittest—creates systemic poverty and lack of cooperation for protecting the environment.

I’m not arguing for the extinction of men, of course, and I don’t think that’s what Gilman is trying to show us. Instead, I think the takeaway of the novelette is that there has to be a healthy balance between this utopia and the world we live in. This story shows us that there is much to be learned from females, and that for much of the history of humankind, females have been underserved. It also shows us that gender is as much a social construct as it is biological. This work made me think about why we need more women in technology and in government.

I suppose the questions that follow are: what is equality if females and males are biologically different? And what even is gender, for that matter? I have many questions still to answer, but I’m glad that this book—using the elements of science fiction—helped me imagine a completely different world as well as expose the issues of today’s society.

* I also read Houston, Houston, Do You Read during Thanksgiving Recess. This story is very much like Herland—except set in the future and involves a time warp and spaceships. It was written by a woman named Alice Sheldon who published under the pseudonym of James Tiptree. Sheldon’s short stories are haunting, vibrant, and masterful, and she is now one of my favorite authors—if you get the chance, read her other short stories from Her Smoke Rose Up Forever.

Reflections on High School

At my parents’ cajoling, I ate dinner with some really adorable incoming high schoolers a few weeks ago to give them advice. One of the kids just came from China two years ago; the other came four years ago. They were full of potential, yet they didn’t have anyone to guide them, to be their mentor.

I’m so grateful to have an older sister—not to mention loving parents and wise grandparents—that have helped me find my own direction. Honestly, a little bit of advice goes a long way. Just knowing what courses to take, what clubs to join, and how to study can be the difference between excelling and being mediocre.

It breaks my heart to know that there are so many people around the world who don’t have the same opportunities, who aren’t reaching their potential. I don’t know what one’s full potential is, or if it’s ever attainable, but I do think that everyone should at least have the opportunity to be the best version of themselves.

In these four years of high school, I am most proud that most of my decisions were not enforced upon me—I took the classes I wanted to take, not because I felt like I needed to, or because my parents wanted me to. I did the things I wanted to do. When I failed a test, it was because of my own bad habits. When I aced an exam, it was because I pushed myself to do so. My faults, my own. In this way, I take ownership of my life.

Yet, leaving high school gives me a tremendous sense of relief. Though I tried to take control of my life, I also spent a large part of high school jumping through hoops that were created by others. Taking the ACT. Taking SAT Subject Tests. AP exams. Maintaining good grades. As I enter the next phase in my life, I want to jump through fewer hoops made by others, and instead, do things on my own volition.

My advice to high schoolers are the following:

  • Get enough sleep. (I have yet to follow this advice, but I’m working on it…) But seriously, sleep is not for the weak. We are weak without sleep.
  • It’s better to have a few friends who care about you—who you would do anything for, and who would do anything for you—than to have a multitude of friends who don’t really care. Find friends who are authentic, who bring out the best in you, and who you deeply respect. In many ways, this helped me escape from the competitive Gunn environment that I find toxic and overwhelming.
  • Figure out the why in every class you take, every action you make. Find out what you value. Find out who you are. Find out what your pitfalls are. Self-knowledge may be the most important trait in success and will help determine your priorities. Be deliberate.
  • Aim for a solid A in every class. That way, you have some buffer if you feel like slacking off at the end of the semester. It’s so much easier to start well than to catch up.
  • Take initiative, show up, and do good work. This is surprisingly rare and can get you far in life.
  • Don’t (or at least try not to) give a crap about what other people think/do/say. You are your own person.
  • Romantic relationships are overrated and honestly quite distracting. Instead, foster close relationships with your family and friends. Focus on being the best version of yourself—the rest will come later. And if it does come, don’t force it.
  • To get into an “elite” college, my best advice is to differentiate yourself. Do something really unique and/or do something really well. Develop your story and find your theme. Be someone you admire and respect.
  • Prioritize. These priorities may change over time and may be circumstantial, but whatever they are, put your heart into them.
  • You’ll never feel ready for research, a leadership position, taking a risk, etc., so just do it. It’s okay to doubt yourself, but don’t let that stop you (especially if you’re female: https://www.theatlantic.com/magazine/archive/2014/05/the-confidence-gap/359815/).
  • Develop self-confidence. It took me a long time to realize what self-confidence is: it’s knowing that you are different. Not better or worse. Just special. Hold yourself to high standards.
  • Make stress your friend (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RcGyVTAoXEU). Learn how to deal and respond to it.
  • Question authority—rules aren’t always meant to be kept. Also, know that adults can be pretty nonsensical and even immature at times.
  • Zoom out. Think about philosophy, of why we’re here. Remember our insignificance. Think about community and the world at large. Think about what you mean to your parents, and what your parents mean to you.
  • Develop a growth mindset. You have more power than you think and, at a young age, more freedom than you know.

Book Review: Crime and Punishment by Fyodor Dostoyevsky

*This is the first of many book reviews I hope to write. I want to write book reviews to become a more critical reader and to better connect what I’m reading to my personal experiences and the world at large. These reviews will contain spoilers and are all my personal opinions.*


I’ll admit, the first time I “read” this book, I listened to it with x1.5 speed for the first ~100 pages and Sparknoted the rest. I didn’t really get into the plot, seeing that I dismissed Raskolnikov as being strange, depraved, narcissistic, and exceedingly arrogant. His theory that some people were just born extraordinary and were thus exempt from all moral justice didn’t appeal to me—I had gone through the nihilistic and egotistic phase in life, and came out realizing that no one person is above another. He was so delusional, and though I understood his motives on a rational level, I never saw his plight in an emotional way.

Despite this terrible initial impression, I chose to do Crime and Punishment as one of my rereads in my English class (mostly because of my guilt for never actually reading the book and partly because I read some raving reviews on Goodreads and was intrigued by how people found value in it).

Senioritis hit me pretty hard, and I finally sat down with a resolve to read the book after coming to terms that I only had three days left to write an essay on it. It was hard to get through the first hundred pages—I know it’s supposed to be a page-turner, but honestly, I was quite bored. Several times, I questioned why I didn’t just choose a shorter, less tedious book to write about (and one that I had already read and had pages of notes on). Raskolnikov got on my nerves and was remarkably two-dimensional for someone who commits murder. The book seemed to try to be deep without really being too philosophical.

It was only in the later half of the book when I started getting really into the novel. As I started reading slower—finally absorbing the book—I began to feel real sympathy for all of the characters: Raskolnikov, Dounia, Sonia, Katerina, Marmeladov, and even Svidrigailov. Raskolnikov’s murders, though the central focus of the novel, weren’t what I found the most interesting—it was the complexity of the side characters and what drove them to do such strange and unexpected things.

I saw Katerina’s dignity as she spent her last rouples on an excessive dinner that was well beyond her means—how she danced on the street and proclaimed her ties to aristocracy. Instead of dismissing her as overly proud and shallow, I pitied and respected her. I saw Marmeladov as a good-for-nothing drunk of a father who let his daughter sell herself to prostitution while he sucked her money away, but I also saw his deep love for his family and respected him for that. I saw the parallels between Raskolnikov and Svidrigailov, and between Sonia, Dounia, and even Lizaveta. I loved and admired Dounia—her strength, her unwavering love and devotion for Raskolnikov, and simple practicality. Though he was a vile man, I even sympathized with the despicable Svidrigailov, and the motivation behind his suicide fascinated me. As I continued reading, I saw the layers of the book and realized that these subplots and characters, interwoven together, were what made this book a powerful masterpiece.

There were so many things I could have written about for my essay, and had I more time, I may have thought more deeply about how poverty affected Katerina or about the role of women in the novel. (Instead, I wrote about similarities and significance of Raskolnikov and Svidrigailov’s dreams—which were interesting in their own right, but not what gripped me when reading the novel.)

In all, though this book was extremely tedious (and had way too many long names), it was worth the effort. It was only when I let my guard down—when I turned off my rationalizing, judgmental brain and started to feel sympathy for the characters—when I actually started to comprehend the greatness of the novel. (Ironically, I suppose that is how Raskolnikov also became redeemed—through abandoning his over-rationalized theory.) This book challenged me in unexpected ways and made me think more deeply about poverty, justice, and morality. I’m thinking of reading this book again—this time letting it wash over me and without an impending deadline for an essay—and I’ll have no doubt that I will grow to appreciate it even more.

I Can’t Say

I lost something
Something I can’t name, something I can’t say—
A confidence, a possibility, a spark.
My head, once full of magic and poetry,
Now filled with numbers so long and words so foreign
I can’t say.
They call it growing older, I call it a growing fear of not being enough.
I’ve been conditioned to jump through my own hoops
But somewhere, somehow, I lost something.

I had a voice that wasn’t afraid—
Now, I can’t say.