W. Tong and A.C. Wong Legacy Scholarship

I’m alive today because of a reproductive endocrinologist. I started life in a petri dish, as an X-chromosome-carrying sperm swimming tirelessly to find its ovum. The odds of my birth were next to none, so my mother always told me I was magic. As a kid, I believed her words literally. I spent my childhood zealously searching for my supposed superpowers, binge-watching Avatar: The Last Airbender in hopes that it would somehow teach me the secrets to telekinetically manipulating matter. As my number of unwatched episodes dwindled, Avatar revealed to me something far more important than how to summon a tidal wave or conjure a raging inferno: Like Sokka and Suki, I don't need superhuman abilities to be a hero. Now, I’m a master of all four elements…in my own way. I’ve discovered what magic means for myself and used my unique powers to change the world. I’m an Airbender. — As Founder and Student Head of the Viking Nation Meditation Station, I volunteer my free mornings before class starts to supervise mindfulness activities in the library classroom, open for all students to participate in. I also promote mental health awareness on an international level by serving as a Verified Teen Listener on 7 Cups of Tea. As a VTL, I’ve provided 1-on-1 messaging support to adolescents in over 20 countries, from kids struggling with their homework to victims of sexual assault. Like air, my positive impact doesn’t idle in place; it diffuses across the globe. I’m an Earthbender. — As Founder and President for 3 years of Upper Merion’s environmentalism club, the Planet Protectors, I’ve contributed to the planting of two gardens in the township, baked Rice Krispie treats and written thank-you cards for school custodians, and assisted Upper Merion Parks and Recreation in their annual recycling event. Every year, the Planet Protectors collect plastic bags from students and teachers and upcycle them into plarn mattresses for the Bags to Beds Project. Like earth, I’m resourceful, always finding ways to make the most of my assets and time. I’m a Firebender. — As the fearless Captain of the Marching Vikings Color Guard, I lead our talented team of dancers with fiery enthusiasm on and off the field—running pre-rehearsal stretches, taping weapons, cleaning the equipment closet, and both giving and being open to receiving constructive criticism. During the off-season, I continue pursuing my love of flagwork, teaching myself new tosses every weekend. In my junior year, I choreographed an original flag dance over the course of five months to perform in the Spring Talent Show. Like fire, I’m persistent and dedicated, forever burning with a drive to self-improve. I’m a Waterbender. — As a passionate women’s health advocate and aspiring fertility doctor, I spearheaded an initiative to push for the installation of Aunt Flow menstrual product dispensers in my school’s bathrooms to combat the urgent issues of period poverty and menstruation stigma. When administrators rejected my proposal, I refused to let that stop me from helping girls in need. Collaborating with the Feminism Club, I organized bake sales and used the funds we raised to purchase over 1200 pads, all of which I single-handedly packaged and donated to CHOP patients and people in Norristown’s homeless shelter. Like water, I bring life and hope everywhere I go, regardless of obstacles in my way. My mother was right. I’m a leader, innovator, performing artist, and activist all in one. That’s my magic. I’m Avatar: The First Generation College Student, and my journey is far from over. I’m alive today because of a reproductive endocrinologist. I’ll change lives tomorrow as a reproductive endocrinologist.

For more than 30 years, my parents worked tirelessly in their Sun Sun Chinese Restaurant, a no-frills Chinese restaurant in east Fort Worth. After a long school day, my dad would be waiting for me by the bus stop, and he would drive me back to the restaurant. I would usually have a plethora of chores I had to do: bringing the plates back into the kitchen, wiping the tables, and cleaning the floors were always on the menu. Although the chores never stopped, I had learned to accept this, using the extra free time I had to venture outside. 100 degrees and blazingly hot or 30 degrees and blisteringly cold, I would always find some way to entertain myself. I loved making paper airplanes and modifying them to fly farther. I loved creating slingshots out of rubber bands and flinging pistachio shells against a tree. The restaurant was my playground, my lab, and my life up to that point. I couldn’t imagine anything else different. Looking back, it was written on the walls. The mysterious lady, talking about owning our restaurant, and my father’s constant doctors’ appointments for arthritis should have been signs. Suddenly, I stayed at home after the bus dropped me off. Adapting to life as a stay-at-home child was a shock; I never understood the appeal of staying at home and watching TV all day, or staying inside to stare at a computer. The next year, the pandemic hit, and since my parents were at risk of COVID, I was chained to a sedentary lifestyle I abhorred. I couldn’t go outside to walk with nature. The Internet was the only way to communicate with outside life, and I was strictly not allowed to play video games—an activity they correlated with laziness. Talking with friends and watching them play games was worse than watching paint dry. One day, I stumbled upon a Roblox Studio tutorial with my brother, and then it hit me that instead of playing games, I could try making them instead. From “Crockpot Overlords”, a player versus player obstacle course, to “Survive the Nose!”, a horror game that involves a walking nose and unassuming civilians, my pent-up energy was released. There was always one more feature I could add. There was always one more bug to fix. I spent several hours on Roblox Studio after doing my classwork, until I could finally update the game and surprise my friends. Every update was like a step to creating a painting; even if the painting was done, there was always one more stroke that could make it better. Through the laughter and the unyielding desire to create something great, I realized that I liked making things on computers too, and with the rigidity of online school, building games filled my empty canvas. My new interest in programming inspired me to take computer science classes during high school. I worked on an app called Freebie, which helped connect donors of free items to people in need. I won the Congressional App Challenge in my local district and had the opportunity to visit my representative in Washington, DC. The wonderful people of District TX-06 allowed me and my teachers to get a view of Capitol Hill, and as I watched above from the Cannon Building directly across the street, I couldn’t help but think about how far I had come. Engineering was just entertainment to me throughout my childhood, but as an incoming first-generation college student, I may now have the ability to make real change within my community.