Dog-Lover. Advocate. Hoosier.

What do I do? Well, let me give you the conventional answer… and then the unconventional answer.

Conventional answer: Professionally speaking, I am a three-time Googler who also has a background in national service (AmeriCorps) and social impact (nonprofit consulting and venture philanthropy). I strongly believe that people are the most valuable asset an organization can have and have spent most of my career investing in people in different ways: people management and coaching, diversity and inclusion, learning and development as well as employee engagement.

Unconventional answer: However, my profession is just one aspect of me—far from the sum of who I am. Outside of work, I remain deeply passionate about social impact, and this passion derives from my personal story.

I was actually born in Hong Kong, though I—like my mom—have Taiwanese citizenship. When I was 2, my father passed away suddenly. His last wish was for me to move to the States and attend Harvard. So, the day after my seventh birthday, my mom and I hopped on a plane to a quiet suburb in Indiana, both to pursue what admittedly seemed like a pipe dream and to escape Hong Kong’s impending handover to China.

In Indiana, I grew up as a first-generation immigrant and the only child of a widow who did not speak English and struggled to find employment. In contrast to my mom, I learned English quickly and became the de facto parent. I was the primary translator for my mom for important day-to-day tasks such as calls with the bank, and I also sought to protect my big-hearted but sometimes gullible mom from people who tried to take advantage of her. For example, one time, a so-called friend of hers convinced her to launder $10K for the friend’s shady son-in-law, and when I found out, I was appalled. I had to step in and seriously put the kibosh on things before that guy actually took his money and flew to our house, where he had planned to spend the night.

At the same time, I realized that I needed to excel in school in order to secure a solid job and take care of my mom and me financially. This required me to grow up fast, and in an unfamiliar community that was >95% White at the time, I also learned firsthand what it’s like to be an outsider who lacks capital of all kinds–not just economic but also social and political capital. For example, one of my elementary school teachers told my new classmates that where I came from, they didn’t have running water and that we used buckets instead of toilets. Another time, a friend’s grandmother asked me what it was like to be Communist. I was so shocked by these humiliating assumptions that I often could muster no words in response.

For better or for worse, I didn’t have time to dwell on these stinging interactions. While some of my classmates spent upwards of $1000 on custom-made prom dresses and vacationed in tropical destinations for spring break, I purchased my $5 prom dress from Goodwill and spent all of my time studying or investing in extracurriculars that I thought would bolster my chances of getting into a good school. I played singles on the tennis team, I served in student government, and I was the managing editor of an award-winning school newspaper with a press run of over 4K.

To be honest, I don’t think I’m particularly smart, but I am the hardest working person I know. Out of the realization that I needed to be the breadwinner for my mom and me, I worked my tail off to get into Harvard and eventually Yale, both with merit scholarships. I’d like to think that my dad would be really proud of me. Most importantly, though, now that I have built up my own social, economic and political capital, I am passionate about sharing it so that I can support underserved populations in ways that I wish I had been supported when I was a kid.

For example, over a decade ago, I made a pledge through Peter Singer’s “The Life You Can Save” campaign to give away a set percentage of my income every year, and I try to give it to the people who need it the most by referring to GiveWell, a charity evaluator that identifies nonprofits that save and improve the most lives per dollar. This means that I usually end up giving to people I have no direct connection with—those whom economist Paul Collier calls “the bottom billion”—often in sub-Saharan Africa. However, these are often the people who most need an advocate. They don’t have friends and family members in, say, the United States who can speak on their behalf, and causes like mosquito nets and micronutrients aren’t exactly “sexy” to the average Western donor. Therefore, I seek to be their voice, both through giving and through the social justice advocacy that I began in college, e.g., in petitioning institutions to divest from oil companies that were bankrolling the genocide in Darfur.

The loss of my father and the challenges of being a parentified child granted me the gift of being able to empathize with marginalized populations in a way that most can’t, and I believe that my life’s purpose is to show love to those who are struggling, whether they are refugees from Sudan, unhoused neighbors at the homeless shelter where I volunteer or friends in crisis. Unlike most of my peers from Harvard, Yale and Google, I can’t brag about being a hotshot corporate executive, publishing a book or being featured in Fortune’s “30 under 30” list. I’m not married, I don’t own my own home, and I don’t kick back in a comfortable three-bedroom in the suburbs with a white picket fence. I try to live simply so that I can not merely save for myself but actually give more away.

In other words, if you were to walk up to me and ask me what I do, I could honestly tell you that I am doing exactly what I was created to do: to show love to those who are suffering and have been forgotten by the mainstream. And thankfully, for the most part, I am still having fun along the way—with the world’s cuddliest dog at my side (her name is “Papaya,” and she’s a chihuahua mix), friendships with some of the most loving people on this planet and a whole heck of a lot of costume parties, ‘90s karaoke and self-deprecating humor.

Oh, and all sorts of board games, too… because, I promise you, you can never be too old to play Twister.

How does being Taiwanese/Taiwanese American and/or community ally play a role in your life?

Currently, I serve on the board of the Taiwanese-American Professionals of San Francisco (TAP-SF), a volunteer-run organization that seeks to cultivate Taiwanese-American identity through programming in areas such as community service and professional development. Not only do I appreciate the community of friends I’ve made through the group, but also I’ve been grateful for the opportunity to amplify my impact.

For example, in the middle of the pandemic, I led an interviewing workshop for TAP-SF catering to those who had lost jobs, drawing from my background in recruiting and hiring, and I was surprised when the event sold out! This past April, I also organized a lecture on addressing the violence against AAPIs, featuring the co-founder of Stop AAPI Hate. Opportunities like these help infuse a sense of purpose in my life.

If you could teach future generations 1 thing about being Taiwanese/Taiwanese American or Taiwan, what would it be?

Taiwanese people have remarkable resilience. In spite of antagonism from China and the lack of recognition of Taiwan as a nation on the global stage, Taiwan has thrived economically and as a democracy. Taiwanese people are also known for our warmth and hospitality, and I would teach future generations that all of these traits—resilience, warmth and hospitality—are things to be proud of.

Favorite memory of Taiwan/Taiwanese America?

My favorite memory of Taiwan is visiting the Houdong Cat Village, which serves as a sanctuary to hundreds of stray cats that are cared for by locals and volunteers. Sure, the cat-themed cafes and shops are adorable, but the cats themselves are the stars of the show, of course. I adore animals and could probably have stayed there petting cats for hours if my mom and uncle hadn’t dragged me home.

Favorite Taiwanese food?

This may sound cliche, but I love, love, love beef noodle soup! My late grandfather was a big fan of noodles over rice, and I definitely take after him in this. My affinity for beef noodle soup is well-known within my family in Taiwan, so when I go back, my relatives always make it a point to take me to noodle shops galore in order to satisfy my craving. I’ll confess that it seems near impossible to visit Taiwan without having gained at least a little weight for all the amazing food you try to cram in while you’re there.