I still vividly remember walking out of the theater after watching Harold & Kumar Go To White Castle. I was with a group of friends of various ages, and those of us too scared for the horror movie next door decided to watch two stoners on their quest for hamburgers. I left the theater 88 minutes later with residual pains in my stomach from laughing so hard—and a stark realization that I had just watched the funniest movie I’d see in a long time. I couldn’t remember ever hearing an …

In high school, blending into the crowd can seem like the most important thing of all. But as we grow up, true fashionistas know they have to create a style that is uniquely theirs. While most of us will always have a special place in our hearts for cheap chic establishments like Forever 21 and H&M, at one point or another, we start craving a little individuality and novelty in our clothing.

It was a Thursday—July 24, 2003, to be exact. Tyson Mao distinctly remembers that it was on this very date that he learned how to solve the Rubik’s cube. Eight years later, he is smashing world records and organizing nationwide competitions without breaking a sweat. Mao is a prodigy in the circle of cubing enthusiasts, with an uncanny ability to pinpoint the colors on a Rubik’s cube without even seeing them.

When we set out to create a list of the most prominent young Asian Americans, it started, like most of our stories do, with a staff chat. The final list, which was heavily debated (is he/she still relevant? is his/her work role-model worthy?), is a product I’m extremely proud of. We always knew we wouldn’t have a problem coming up with a great group of names, but what I’m most happy with is the sheer amount of diversity we came across—age, ethnicity, profession and more. I won’t even get into the amazing people we couldn’t include because they were—gasp—26 or older. We hope that the potential people to add to this list just keeps growing, growing, and growing—tell us in the comments who you’d like to see the next time we do this!

After you turn 18 and 21, age 25 is often considered the next milestone. Post-25 life implies growing up and advancing toward marriage and family life, while the pre-25 years retain the aura of youth. Before we reach that oh-so-(not)-significant age where we can officially rent a car and have our insurance rates dropped, our staffers reflect on what they’d like to accomplish before they reach this “milestone.”

In some ways, sisters Knewdles and Sos have what is possibly the most typical sibling relationship in the world—they fight, they squeal on each other, but they also are closer than ever. Yet most sisters don’t grow up, move in together, and decide to start a hip-hop group of their own.

We’ll be honest here. Sex can be fun, exciting, pleasurable—and an important part of life. After all, sex plays a part in both your physical and emotional health and is perfectly normal to think about. But sex can also be overwhelming or confusing, and it does have big practical implications like pregnancy and STIs.

Google “Facebook relationships” and you’ll find results like “13 ways Facebook Ruins Your Relationship” or “Facebook Puts Relationships on a Collision Course.” While these claims may have no scientific basis, they do demonstrate how sites like Facebook have completely changed how we interact with each other.

Believe it or not, Jennifer 8. Lee did not grow up dreaming of becoming a journalist. Instead, she aspired to be what few little girls dream of—an investment banker. As a 13-year-old, before Wall Street’s heyday, she stumbled upon a children’s guide to investment banking. The book painted a wonderful picture of how investment bankers help build a better world.

At age 23, most of us have just graduated from college. We might be wrapping up a summer internship, looking into medical or business school or starting a full-time job. When Evan Low turned 23, he was winning a City Council member election in Campbell, CA in the heart of Silicon Valley. Fast forward three years to 2009, and he had become the youngest Asian American and openly gay mayor in the entire nation.

On an early summer morning in Manhattan, Eva Chen walks into the W Hotel. Tall and slender, with barely noticeable makeup and a short, minimalist hairdo, she looks exactly how you would picture a Teen Vogue editor to be— effortlessly chic, with an astute attentiveness.

When acclaimed Korean American author Chang Rae Lee paid a visit to my western literature class back in high school, I was unfortunately ignorant of his recognition in the literary world. However, the impression that he left was immediate. Although soft-spoken in the discussion we had about J.D. Salinger’s novel Franny and Zooey and cultural assumptions in society, his words held a keen insight and profundity that naturally commanded everyone’s attention.

I am hapa. With an Asian American father and a Caucasian mother, I am evenly split between two worlds. Rather than a fixed 50/50 percentage, I feel like I’m on a spectrum, constantly shifting back and forth between cultural extremes. The shift isn’t always smooth, either—sometimes my two halves go hand in hand, but just as often, they conflict.

My identity crisis starts with being a sixth-generation Chinese and third-generation Korean American. This may sound unique to the general population, but it is actually pretty common in the beautiful state of Hawaii, where I grew up. My paternal great-great grandfather left southern China with his brother to pursue the California gold rush in the late 19th century, but their boat made a stop among a certain island archipelago in the middle of the Pacific Ocean.

Success comes in many shapes and forms. For Hannah Song, the first female CEO of the international non-governmental organization Liberty in North Korea (LiNK), success stems from how her work furthers the progress toward her cause. Before joining LiNK six years ago, Song worked in the corporate advertising field.