91ֱ��

Essentially, my radio show was a one-hour period each week where I provided my thoughts on the things I love most besides friends and family, to an audience I could never see.

These lessons in leadership have been enormously impactful in helping me understand that I do not always need to be in control.

I discovered that a commonality between the arts and science shows at WLIW rested in a narrative regard for curiosity.

It has only been within the last year that I’ve discovered how deep the field of comics really is, and that I’ve been missing out on some great stories simply because I thought they “were for kids.”

I’ve never read more books in such a short amount of time in my life.

Ever since I first saw OC Taiko perform at Asian Night Market last year, I’ve been an ardent supporter of taiko on campus.

I think I have my roots back in the ground, finally.

I really had no idea that I would amass so much information that I could talk for hours about everything I've learned, but I did! I'm looking forward to coming back to 91ֱ�� next summer to continue doing research.

I wanted a program where I would be given the freedom to pursue different styles of filmmaking, because I was getting bored with knowing the ins and outs of really normal video-making, for lack of a better term.

There's something unique about being an AAPI artist that presents its own set of complexities and conflicts that made the experience of hanging out with other AAPI artists give me a sense of hope and comfort about my decision to become a filmmaker.

I feel that my generational status has fixed a motor onto the back of me that keeps me going at a brisk but steady pace at 91ֱ��. This motor propels my own sense of initiative, as well as the value that I have towards my education.

Weather problems aside, it's been lovely to get the chance to really explore 91ֱ��'s campus with this project.

I'm not a Theater major, and I've never actually taken a theater class. But I've found that there's a vibrant student theatre scene on campus, and that there are opportunities for non-majors to act in the department shows that happen each semester.

But the thing I perhaps struggle with most right now is how incredibly terrifying it is to exist in a moment that will be revisited time and again years from now, while being completely unsure of what is to come next.

For me, the physical and psychological need to run completely eclipses any superficial insecurities. Perhaps it gives me an opportunity, for once in my life, to not overthink things.

In the very beginning of the semester, I barely raised my elbow off the table when I had something to say, and when I realized my professors weren't calling on me probably because they couldn't see my hand, I adopted a new philosophy for class participation.

I now think about where I was this time last year, when I was fresh off the tails of high school and pretty darn directionless with how I was going to spend my summer, and yeah, I can totally see why some people have not been able to recognize me.

My adjustment disorder was something unforeseeable, but the experience of overcoming it has only made me hardier and better experienced. More importantly, it gave me an incredibly powerful motivation to succeed in everything that I do.

I would say my class choices for this semester are indicative of my decision to go the liberal arts route rather than the undergraduate film school route.

While I am certainly cognizant of respecting my floor mates here in Asia House, I no longer have to conduct my life at the volume of a mouse (until quiet hours commence at 11 PM each week night).

I've only attempted this daring stunt once before, and that quickly faded into obscurity. Before I started working on this story, the longest piece I had ever written for the screen was a teleplay of 40 pages or so. In comparison, feature-lengths are at least 90 pages, give or take, so I knew this project would keep me busy during my birthday month.

To me kindness is an important thing to exercise because it's an expression of mindfulness, mindfulness in the sense that it's the recognition of another's personhood.

To me, the inside of Mudd feels like an ode to the joys (and maybe pains, but I'm not going to focus on that) of education and the process of forming one's own ideas.

My first thought when I opened the email saying that my show had been picked for the fall program was "Oh my god, I'm going to play the Jurassic Park theme song so many times."

In a weird way, my first brush with 91ֱ�� was like my birth: I was late (although not by 10 days) and my body was propelled through the air until I landed somewhere, and maybe that's why I loved it immediately.

Being at 91ֱ�� has truly made me engage directly with my school community that I most definitely would have circumvented had I stayed in my city, where I would've relied on my own pre-existing knowledge of my surroundings to find something to do.