Photo Credit:Warner Bros. Pictures

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 audience howl like that.

But what I didn’t realize for a long time afterward was just how novel the movie was and what a breakthrough it was in Hollywood. The writers reportedly wrote the two leading roles specifically for Asian American actors—literally unheard of at that time, especially with a movie that wasn’t set in Asia or didn’t include some type of martial arts sequence.

Photo Credit:Warner Bros. Pictures

When first movie came out, John Cho, who plays Harold, was unsure of how the Asian American community would react. “We weren’t traditional cinematic heroes,” he says of the characters. “We were stoners, an odd couple. That’s not what the ideal Asian American characters would have been if you polled people at a film festival. But over the years, it feels like the community has really warmed to what we are doing.”

Fast forward seven years. The Harold and Kumar franchise has become a smash hit, two stoners are household names and they’ve paved the way for minority actors and comedians to play leading roles in projects that are not ethnicity-focused, no longer always relegated to the bit parts of sidekicks, immigrants or exotic objects.

Kal Penn, the man behind Kumar, agrees that the movie was a step forward for the industry. “I remain honored to have the chance to play this character,” he says. “But it’s not about me. It’s about the risk that Warner Brothers took [in casting two Asian American leads], and I hope there are more movies that continue to be made like that.”

Photo Credit:Warner Bros. Pictures

There’s certainly a reason why audiences can’t get enough of the franchise. In college, my Indian roommate and I discovered our mutual love for the movie when she hung the poster above her bed our freshman year. We immediately decided that we were a female version of the duo, one brown and yellow face, taking on the four-year adventure of college. Perhaps, somewhat subconsciously, it was the thrill of seeing faces like ours on the big screen, as rebels of a sort, proving that we could be ambitious like Harold but also fun-loving like Kumar at the same time. We dressed as Harold and Kumar one Halloween, watched the second movie together, looked up the lyrics to the Pi song and reveled in the way we saw ourselves represented in them, despite the fact that neither of us ever seriously dreamed of becoming surgeons or bankers, smoked weed or ate at White Castle.

This week, the third movie of the series comes out. Cho and Penn, the unlikely A-list pioneers of Asian Americans in Hollywood, are back in their most famous roles despite the four-year hiatus they spent filming other projects and advising the President of the United States (Penn was previously an associate director working in outreach for the Asian American Pacific Islander and arts communities for the White House). This time around, they are almost thirty. Harold and Maria have married, and the bond between Harold and Kumar has faded, as friendships are wont to do. A series of unfortunate events (isn’t it always?) brings them back together, in an effort to please Harold’s father-in-law, on a Christmas adventure that includes a Ukranian mob boss, a robot that makes waffles and, of course, Neil Patrick Harris.

Above all, the movie is a celebration of friendship—director Todd Strauss-Schulson calls it a “bromantic comedy.” According to Cho, the biggest challenge of the movies is making sure that Harold and Kumar are believable as friends. “I think most people have a straighter side and a wilder side,” he says. “That’s why the Harold and Kumar movies work to a certain extent. That’s why the Odd Couple format, which is what we’re copying, works so well. Everyone has both in them.”

Perhaps the biggest advance the movies have made is in making a pair of stoner rebels (regardless of their ethnicity) unlikely role models for a true friendship. I can’t count the number of times I’ve met best friends of South and East Asian descent—like my roommate and I—who believe, from the bottom of their hearts, that they are Harold and Kumar.

Related posts:

1. The Pioneer Issue: How Will You Change the World? It’s been said that life is a series of decisions....

Vivian Weng, Co-Founder of FashionStake.com

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.

Enter FashionStake, an online emporium of independent fashion vetted by industry experts and ultimately handpicked by the community. It’s a trendsetter’s haven for stunning alternatives to mass-produced goods, but on the other side of the business equation are the independent designers who have struggled to share their talent—until now.

“We are not a traditional retailer,” emphasizes FashionStake co-founder Vivian Weng, “but a marketplace and platform for designers to reach an audience that they typically don’t have access to.”

Launched just a year ago, the company is the brainchild she hatched with Harvard Business School classmate Daniel Gulati. With experience in mass retail at McKinsey & Co. prior to grad school, Weng had always loved fashion. Gulati brought an entrepreneurial background to the table, and the two of them began discussing business opportunities in what’s largely been a slow-changing industry.

“One of the biggest trends we saw was an opening up of the industry,” Weng says. “Shows like Project Runway give the average Americana peek into an industry that has traditionally been very closed. Bloggers today are sitting in the front rows of fashion shows, and big luxury houses are streaming their fashion shows online when they used to be strictly invitation-only.”

Jumping on this movement, Weng and Gulati wanted to find a platform to help emerging designers connect with hard-to-reach customers. What started out as a Kickstarter-esque model for fashion, where users chipped in to fund lines they liked, evolved into a voter-based retail site.

Each week, three selected designers are showcased in the Voting Booth, where users decide who will be sold on the site.

“To find designers, the FashionStake team is constantly scouring trade fairs, showrooms, and markets,” Weng explains. “We work with bloggers, PR reps, and different magazines that have local connections to up-and-coming designers.”

The company has also been receiving a high volume of requests from designers, thanks to snagging InStyle’s Best of the Web award earlier this year. Leveraging the expanded knowledge of promising artists from its network, FashionStake now features over 200 designers from more than 16 countries.

“We want to become an online destination where people shop and explore really exciting, cutting-edge new fashion,” Weng says.

But more importantly, FashionStake is aggregating the “long tail” of independent designers, connecting these fresh perspectives with customers who otherwise would have never heard of them. Before the advent of online shopping, department stores and boutiques could only support a limited number of designers due to space and budget constraints. In today’s digital age, FashionStake provides a free e-commerce solution so designers no longer need to worry about building a website or driving traffic. As a one-stop shop for inspired creations, the site helps designers gain attention in the very cluttered web space.

A quick glance at where FashionStake’s designers have landed makes it clear that it’s not just a shopping site, but a venue through which new talent really can grow. After being featured on the site, independent designers have gone on to show at New York’s Mercedes-Benz Fashion Week and Gen Art Fresh Faces in Fashion—where influencers like Zac Posen and Phillip Lim first showed. Among Weng’s favorite Asian American designers to watch out for on FashionStake are Ann Lee, a Michigan native who was one of the designers at Gen Art, and Yoonmi Lee, whose beautiful craftsmanship caught the eye of InStyle editors working on the web awards.

At the end of the day, Weng emphasizes that when you’re carving out your own path, nothing should be too big or too small for you to take on. Aside from helping designers on the side while she was at McKinsey, Weng actually quit her job early before going to business school to intern at Elie Tahari and Escada.

“I spent some days just steaming clothes or dressing models, but the hands-on internships were the greatest learning experiences,” she said. “You have to have no ego. Just jump into it.”

We’re sure designers and shoppers alike are quite glad that she did.

Click through for a slideshow Weng put together of her current “obsessions,” all available at fashionstake.com

3/4-Sleeve Ruffled Shirt (http://www.fashionstake.com/3-4-sleeve-ruffled-shirt-black-lurex.html): Alice Ritter, of the CFDA Fashion Incubator, is one of my favorite designers. She has this amazing French sensibility that is coy and cool.

3 Colored Shawl (http://www.fashionstake.com/3-colored-shawl.html): I think oversized neckwear gives an instant dose of “downtown cool” to any outfit. This is such a cozy accessory for winter.

Lucky Red Dress (http://www.fashionstake.com/lucky-red-dress.html): I’m really into long-sleeve dresses right now. They’re the perfect day-to-night choice–totally office appropriate but chic too.

Elica Navy Lace Dress (http://www.fashionstake.com/elica-navy-lace-dress.html): I love how this lace dress is made modern and fresh by a contrast back zipper and removable belt. It’s super ladylike.

Coraluxx Necklace (http://www.fashionstake.com/coraluxx-necklace.html): What a unique statement piece. Elvira Sazesh, the designer, uses suede, leather, and rope to create these little pieces of wearable art.

A.S. High Sneaker (http://www.fashionstake.com/a.s-high-sneaker-navy-red.html): I got a pair of these retro-inspired high-tops for my boyfriend, but wish they came in women’s sizes too! This brand has a great history and was originally a classic canvas shoe from Shanghai before it was revived by a French company.

Make Babies Tag Necklace (http://www.fashionstake.com/make-babies-tag-necklace-gold.html): This cheeky necklace is the perfect layering piece

Vivian Weng, Co-Founder of FashionStake.com

Related posts:

1. The Pioneer Issue: How Will You Change the World? It’s been said that life is a series of decisions....
2. Fashion Blogger Susie Bubble on the Digital World of Fashion Fashion blogger Susanna "Susie Bubble" Lau is one of the...
3. Aimee Cho’s Trench Coat Fairy Tale As the former assistant of Vogue editor-in-chief Anna Wintour, Aimee...

Photo Credit: Tyson Mao

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.

Mao was 10 years old the first time he touched a Rubik’s cube. But it wasn’t until nine years later in 2003, when his younger brother went to a summer program and learned how to solve the puzzle that Mao picked up the skills with his help.

“When I first started, it was about discovering this new thing and discovering that I could get really fast at it. I could quantitatively measure how fast I was, so it was really cool to see my progression,” Mao said. “I put in hours of practice and I went from 40 seconds down to 30 seconds down to 20 seconds. It was definitely exciting to be at the forefront in pushing the limits to what was possible.”

Since then, Mao has become the first person to solve a Rubik’s cube blindfolded in less than two minutes, among other records. But aside from his skills and wins, his most notable achievement is bringing the Rubik’s cube community together by being the first to organize competitions.

“No one else was holding competitions anywhere else in the world—formalizing that process and setting regulations and a way to keep records,” he said. But once they were set in place, the events drew its participants into a more cohesive group. “When you go to competitions, especially international competitions, you meet people from Europe, Asia, and these people become a part of your life,” Mao said. “People come in and out of cubing, but the friendships you make remain.”

True to his fascination with self-improvement, Mao’s quick to point out that these races are different from most others. “It’s not really about competing against another person,” he said. “It’s more about competing against yourself.”

His success at solving the Rubik’s cube has taken him down several unique paths, including assisting with the production of Will Smith’s “The Pursuit of Happyness” movie. Both Mao and his brother were on set a few days a week to make sure that Smith knew the beginner techniques to solving the cube. “It was a lot of fun,” Mao recalled. “Will Smith is a very nice guy. He’s not demanding at all and was very easy to work with.”

Not that it was Mao’s first Hollywood experience. He’s also been featured in shows like “Anderson Cooper” and “Beauty and the Geek.” Mao says of his reality TV experience: “I was very fortunate that the season I was on, it was a nice show–it wasn’t ‘Jersey Shore’ or ‘A Shot of Love with Tila Tequila.’ It fit my personality, and it was a nice break away from the academic world of college.”

At the end of the day, this game-changer is motivated by whatever happens to take hold of his life, be it a puzzle or a career path. “A lot of times, people come up with ideas but don’t get past that stage. With the Internet these days, it’s not that hard to take it one level past that,” he said. For those who like to dream big, Mao has some simple advice: “Take your own ideas seriously. Do your research, see what it means, and make it happen. Ideas are good but they need to be acted on.”

Related posts:

1. Toni Ko: What It Takes to Build a Powerhouse Brand in the Beauty Industry As the go-to makeup brand for ladies who want to...
2. Mark Bao: Serial Entrepreneur and Problem-Solver Mark Bao likes to solve problems. In search of a...
3. Makeup Maven Ning Chao Takes on The Social Aspect of Beauty Ever since she was young, Ning Chao has been obsessed...

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!

—Stephanie Wu

Written and reported by Jasmine Ako, Susan Hirai, Nicole Tai, Christine Wei and Stephanie Wu

Photo by The Agency Sports

Photo by Forever 21

Photo By Adam Fedderly

Photo by Garrick Fuji

Photo by Dove Shore Photography

Photo by Daniel Chae

Photo HigaTV.com

Photo by Lily's Twitter account

Photo PMK-BNC

Photo by Craig Arend

Photo By Garance Dore

Photo by NBA

Photo by Paul Harvath

Photo by Jasmin Doma

Photo By Mark Hussman

Photo By Lancome

Photo By Debbie Patton

Photo by Rodney Ray

Photo From Wikipedia

Photo by Chris Ripley

Photo by Gregg DeGuire:PictureGroup for FOX

Photo by Getty Images

Photo by 2010 Fox Broadcasting Co. Cr Mathieu Young-FOX

Photo by KevJumba.com

View and download the PDF here:

Related posts:

1. Mochi Survey: Attitudes Toward Asian American Cosmetic Surgery The prevalence of cosmetic surgery in Asia has reached a...
2. Evan Low: The Nation’s Youngest Asian American Mayor At age 23, most of us have just graduated from...
3. My Story: Growing Up Asian American in Hawaii My identity crisis starts with being a sixth-generation Chinese and...

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.”

Related posts:

1. Mochi Asks: What’s Your Best Pick-Up Line? Anyone can rattle off pick-up lines, but have you ever...
2. Where to Travel Before You Turn 25 Not that 25 is a make-or-break-it age, but it certainly...
3. Forever Young: Mochi’s Youth Issue Dear readers, They say youth is wasted on the young—and...

Related posts:

1. Yin Chang: The Girl Behind the Glasses On Gossip Girl, Nelly Yuki is perhaps the most complex...
2. A Series of Fortunate Events for Tania Gunadi Tania Gunadi is one lucky lady. So far, the rising...
3. How Facebook May Rekindle or Ruin Relationships Google "Facebook relationships” and you’ll find results like “13 ways...

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. Whether you’re thinking about having sex or are already doing it, Mochi brings you the facts and resources you need to help you navigate your experience, stay healthy and take care of your body.

Mochi’s guide to safe—well, let’s say safer, since sex is never completely safe—sex will answer some of your burning questions about sex: How do I know when I’m ready? What birth control options do I have? How worried do I really need to be about STIs and how do I get tested? In the following articles, you can find out how to protect yourself, learn about what to say when you have The Talk, get the facts straight about certain sex myths, share your opinions on the Asian American stigma surrounding sex and weigh in on how we define sex today. Whether you want to find a gynecologist or counselor to consult with or dig around the web to find more information, we have a fantastic list of resources and websites to get you started.

Sex can be great, but it’s important that you’re confident in your decision to have it (or not). The less you have to worry about, the better you’ll feel and your experience will be. So take the time to understand your thoughts and feelings, protect yourself and establish open and trustful communication. And if you ever have any questions about sex or just want to talk, you can always reach us at safesex@mochimag.com.

Related posts:

1. Safe Sex Checklist Thinking about having sex or already doing it? Here’s what...
2. Let’s Talk About Sex Preparing for your first time may seem like the most...
3. Resources: Where to Learn More About Safe Sex Scarleteen is a very honest and smart community-oriented resource....

Courtesy Dimitris Kalogeropoylos

Thanks to social networking sites like Facebook, everything we do online is public and open to commentary. It provides an instant snapshot of our personal history—pictures from parties and vacations, status updates about our feelings or the last movie we watched, and event invitations all provide an instant answer to “what has so-and-so been doing lately?” With social networking, we are constantly and completely connected, which raises the big question: Now that Facebook has electronically enforced our relationships, does it also ruin them?

Studies have found that Facebook does create distinct downsides to relationships. A study of 308 Facebook users found that people who are prone to jealousy will have that jealousy reinforced by using the site. Imagine this scenario: You’re dating a guy, but then you break up. A few days later you’re on Facebook and there’s a picture of your ex with his new girl splattered all over your News Feed—jealously ensues.

Though you are connected to so many people, Facebook also won’t help you make new friends, per se. Several studies have found that Facebook doesn’t help form closer friendships and that people are not likely to use it to initiate new connections.

Besides personal relationships, your business and career relationships can be negatively affected as well. The same pictures from that party last week where you hooked up with the cute guy from Chemistry can be interpreted as fun by your friends, but can haunt you later if it’s seen by recruiters and potential employers. One article cited that more than half of all employers check candidates’ Facebook pages. Some colleges even use Facebook to see exactly what kind of students they are admitting before sending out letters. It’s become a new standard for deciphering personalities and forming first impressions, which can become overwhelming since your relationships can be easily affected by your online persona.

On the flip side, the exponential growth and popularity of Facebook is a result of its positive influence as well. The simplicity of reaching out to an old friend or colleague through this network shows how Facebook makes existing relationships easier to support and can also decrease the cost of maintaining them, because staying in touch is so easy. It’s like having a constantly updating Rolodex for each of your friends—if someone moves, you still have a means of getting in touch with them.

The longevity and magnitude of Facebook’s influence on relationships comes down to the reasoning behind why Facebook has succeeded—at least so far—while Friendster and MySpace (remember those?) have not. By extorting the public sphere and mapping a web of connections between people on a scale that can be at once intrusive and yet make the world more intimate, Facebook has and likely will continue to shape our relationships from here on out—whether it’s for better or worse.

Related posts:

1. What You Need To Know About Long-Distance Relationships When it comes to college dating, chances are, your significant...
2. What You Need to Know About Interracial Relationships The most basic definition of an interracial relationship is one...
3. Celebrating Relationships With Loved Ones in 2011 Dear readers, For me, the Christmas holidays mean one thing—going...

Courtesy Jennifer 8 Lee

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. The idea may seem humorous given today’s economic climate, but for the self-proclaimed science and math geek, Lee believed the profession “seemed like a good and honorable thing to do, being able to build the infrastructure of the country.”

At Harvard, she continued to follow her passion for numbers by majoring in applied math and economics, but ultimately decided against an investment banking career. “Everyone in college wanted to do investment banking, but I was never someone who wanted to do what others wanted,” she recalled. Her need to avoid following the herd is clear—after all, how many people do you know with a number for a middle name?

Journalism, though, was not something Lee stumbled into. During high school, she was editor-in-chief of her school newspaper, had entered many writing contests and was a writer for The Harvard Crimson. She remembers being a “painfully mediocre writer” until spring of her junior year.

During the summer between her junior and senior year of high school, Lee decided she wanted to become a journalist after attending a Dow Jones program for minority youth. She wrote a story about how organizations used arts to help gay teenagers open up about their sexuality. After interviewing and being touched by the story of an African American gay teenager who had tried to commit suicide twice, she realized that through journalism, she was “able to listen to people’s stories and give them a voice.”

Now, Lee is a well-known, influential Asian American journalist, having worked for eight years with The New York Times, which she joined at the age of 24, and also as an author of The Fortune Cookie Chronicles, which examines how Chinese food in America is very much American. She explained that The Fortune Cookie Chronicles is “an allegory of self. You look at this thing—it’s Chinese, but made in America.” While conducting research for the book, she reached out to the Chinese diaspora, finding it amusing to encounter ethnically Chinese individuals like her who were not only American, but also Indian and African.

The success of the book led to an appearance on the Colbert Report as well as a TED talk, both of which Lee credits for legitimizing her in the eyes of Silicon Valley professionals. After accepting a buyout package from The New York Times, Lee is doing less writing and more of what she calls “structuring.”  She describes herself as an “operational and systems person” and is keen on building a system that departs from legacy media, such as newspapers, and moves toward new forms of media.

While “many people have been lamenting the death of print,” Lee believes that the industry is due for its next stage of evolution. Lee is excited to contribute to shaping the future of journalism, which she believes will revolve around “knowledge sharing, building relationships and furthering the osmosis between techies and writers.”  Through her involvement with Hacks/Hackers, Lee works with  journalists and techies to build a system in which writers can reach a broader audience through different forms of media and allow them to become more business-savvy and marketable. For Lee, this is particularly relevant in today’s environment where blogs and online journals highlight the prevalence of web-based self-expression.

For this reason, Lee is pushing for journalism’s next wave, which will allow people to connect more extensively through social and digital media. For example, she is working toward the proliferation of low-cost, open-source tools such as Wordpress, the transformation of Wiki software to being geographically specific and for primary source materials to be available to the public. If her work succeeds, we can look forward to a world where journalism is even more revolutionized. This will be when formerly private videos, photos, documents and programs become more available and individuals immerse themselves in the journalistic process.

As Lee looks forward to journalism’s future, she also reflects on her own successes.  Thinking about the advice she would give her teenage self, she said, “It will all work out.  Everything happens for a reason, even if you do not know what the reason is at the moment.” Clearly, she has taken this advice to heart. From dreams of investment banking to esteemed journalist and author, Lee has transformed herself and will continue to do so by strengthening the relationship between tech-savvy and content-minded individuals and welcoming the changing media landscape.

Related posts:

1. Jen Wang and Diana Nguyen: The Amazians Behind Disgrasian One night several years ago, Jen Wang and Diana Nguyen...
2. Teen Vogue’s Eva Chen: A Big Sister to All On an early summer morning in Manhattan, Eva Chen walks...
3. Jerry Yang: The Ultimate Silicon Valley Entrepreneur Chinese American Jerry Yang, who emigrated to the U.S. at...

Courtesy Evan Low

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.

In the few years that Low has appeared on the political radar, he has become quite an inspiration to populations of Asian Americans, LGBT groups and young people in general for affecting change—but it hasn’t always been a smooth ride.

Low hadn’t even planned on being involved in politics in the first place. Though community service was always a passion when growing up, he first imagined himself in the classroom, passing on his visions as a teacher. And, unsurprisingly, his eventual choice to pursue a political career was met with great concern on his parents’ part.

“In the Pacific Islander community, like in my family, we don’t like to get involved,” he explained. “We want to keep quiet and we don’t want to stir up trouble for other families. But politics is the opposite of that—you’re always under the microscope, you’re always being criticized and it doesn’t pay well—it goes against the Chinese culture that I grew up in.”

But that’s precisely the reason why Low decided politics was his calling. In a city as diverse as Campbell, where Asian Americans make up the second largest demographic, change and improvement is about representation. Low shares stories of how his presence has made a tangible difference: new residents who only speak their native language have gone into the city hall, for example, saying, “I only speak Chinese, but I know our mayor is Chinese. Can you help me with this issue?”

Ironically, Low’s goals for serving the entire community were met with accusations of selfish interests. He has received hate mail for the media’s emphasis on his representation of Asian American and LGBT groups as well as his stance against Proposition 8.

Courtesy Evan Low

What can you do in the face of such animosity and misunderstanding? You just have to prove them wrong, Low said. “I think it’s important to be able to set a good example, to be a good role model. You have to demonstrate the abilities of the communities and get through those stereotypes and earn people’s trust.”

Low also had to battle skepticism surrounding his age. “Typically, young people can be seen as idealistic. People equate age with experience, and being young, people will second-guess your ability to serve in a certain capacity.” But, he argued, experiences can always be obtained—what truly matters in decision-making is a person’s judgment.

In fact, some of the most successful efforts on Low’s long list of accomplishments are due to his youth and innovative spirit. “Technology is inherent; we grew up with Facebook and MySpace and text messages and cell phones,” Low pointed out. So when the council tackles different issues and attempts to encourage engagement, he naturally turns to technology. He’s spearheaded the live-casting and web-streaming of all city council meetings, for example, which is “what public engagement is about—getting people information in different ways.”

And in this paper-saving, budget-cutting solution inspired by his youth, Low has indeed seen concrete results in increased engagement. “For the first time ever, people can go online whenever they want and view the meetings in the comfort of their own home,” he said, citing interested and thoughtful responses from residents who had never attended a single meeting before. Now, even parents who usually run around after kids or pregnant women who are physically unable to attend the gatherings can easily access information about their city.

But, Low emphasized, “None of this is important to me if, by the time I leave or I’m done with this position, I don’t bring other people into the fold and the process.” During his tenure, the city council has also appointed more people from diverse backgrounds in Campbell’s entire history.

For someone so successful in his goals, it might be surprising to know that Low lost a prior election for City Council member in 2004 before he had won in 2006. Instead of letting the loss shake his confidence, Low saw it as an important way to learn the process. “If you ask the average American what they know about running a campaign, I think you’d find few and far between,” he said. “It’s a learning experience and something I was happy to be able to try to do.”

In the end, Low advises, the best thing to do is to find a mentor to guide you through what you want to do: “It’s an invaluable relationship.” But, perhaps the most important message here isn’t about that or even about how much one can accomplish at such a young age. What’s most inspiring about Low’s story is the fact that he failed once, tried again and has since achieved so much—which just goes to show what you can do when you don’t let anything get you down.

Related posts:

1. K-Pop Fever and Its Asian American Victims There’s no doubt that Korean pop culture (affectionately called K-pop)...
2. Asian Clubs Link Students Across the Nation Despite barriers of distance, time zones and regional culture, there...
3. My Story: Growing Up Asian American in Hawaii My identity crisis starts with being a sixth-generation Chinese and...

Courtesy Eva Chen

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. Despite any ill-preconceived notions of intimidating editors due to my obsession with The Devil Wears Prada, I was immediately at ease with Eva and her endearing banter—especially after she started gulping down her order of breakfast and quickly apologized, “Sorry you have to watch me eat. I have to eat. I can’t not eat.”

In her candid and down-to-earth nature, the beauty and health director points out that the magazine industry isn’t all fun and play like the media often portrays. “99.9 percent of the time, you’re in the office at work,” said Chen. Work for her, however, includes being bombarded with at least 100 beauty products per day, attending fashion shows, backstage interviews and going to industry events.

For Chen, her job encompasses what she loves to do most—writing and helping others. As she unashamedly admitted, “I have a problem. People don’t even ask me for advice and I just give it.” Through the Teen Vogue brand and its magazine, website and blog—she was the first beauty editor at Condé Nast to start a blog—plus her personal Twitter, she’s been able to engage with teens in a whole new personal way. She’s the cool, smart sister you wish you always had around to ask for advice—and now only a Twitter @reply away.

“I’m open to giving [advice] probably because I remember being a teen and how hard it was to ask for help,” said Chen. “My whole life, I always wanted an older sister. I feel there’s a lot of value in having female friends, whether you’re a boy or girl, so I think that’s another reason why I love my job—because I grew up without having someone to turn to.”

As Chen opened up about her childhood, it became immediately apparent why many Asian girls reach out to her for advice and can identify with her easily. “I think Asian culture is very specific in that you’re told not to ask for help,” said Chen. “Even as Asian culture becomes more integrated into Western or American society, I still think, culturally, there are a few things that will probably hold true—the notion of ‘keeping face,’ the notion of ‘don’t go to others with your problems,’ like ‘figure it out yourself.’ I don’t know [if] that will change, so I think it’s really important for people to feel like they have someone to turn to. And I don’t mind being that person. Like I said, I can relate.”

From age 13 to 20, Eva spent every summer vacation taking summer school classes at Hunter College or Columbia University. Her parents, whom she described are “like many other Asian American parents [who] put a premium on my education,” wanted her to pursue business, law or medicine, and she enrolled in Johns Hopkins on a pre-med path with plans of becoming a doctor.

Anxious to take a break and do something different and fun, Chen applied for internships in the creative field between the summer of her junior and senior college years, landing a coveted full-time, paid internship at Harper’s Bazaar, which ultimately jump-started her magazine career. Chen recalled, “My first day of work [at Harper’s Bazaar] was kind of really an eye-opening experience. It was just that light-bulb-going-off-over-your-head moment. I just kind of realized that there was more out there. There were people who loved words and loved to write and loved to craft these stories and tell stories to people as their career.”

In retrospect, Chen admits there were clues all along, such as her love of reading and how English classes and the written word came really naturally to her as opposed to learning organic chemistry. “I think there are clues in everyone’s lives, whether or not they choose to tap into that,” said Chen. “So if you love movies and all you want to do is go to movies, you could probably make a career out of it. The world is so much bigger than doctor, banker, lawyer, accountant—all these ‘stable jobs.’ So generally, whatever your hobby is, there’s probably a way to make it into a career. That’s a lesson that I learned way, way later that I wish I’d known when I was 15.”

Besides the benefits of her internship experiences, Chen’s unexpected shift from medicine to magazines eventually ended up affecting her job today. “It’s funny because every experience I’ve had, from pre-med even, has translated into my writing and beauty career,” said Chen. “I’m also the health director at Teen Vogue, so my interest in science, nutrition, health and wellness has translated over into what I do now. It’s been really interesting to see how it all ties together. There’s no such thing as coincidences.”

Chen’s prowess in making the most of every opportunity, whether expected or not, and embracing changes in her life draws back to her roots and backbone—her Taiwanese parents who immigrated to the U.S. in the late ‘70s and her childhood in New York City’s Greenwich Village. Of her parents, Chen said, “I see how hard they’ve worked to be able to send my brother and me to good schools—to provide us with everything we’ve ever wanted. I’ve been incredibly blessed to have the best kind of parents that are out there.” Though an obvious answer, Eva immediately said her parents are the most influential people in her life. “My parents gave me the foundation upon which everything else is built. They gave me the education that instilled within me the confidence to do what I can do.”

In relation to her job as beauty and health director, Chen’s mom has perpetuated her love for skincare. “I feel like I grew up with a different perception of beauty because I saw my mom slather these creams on,” said Chen. “When we go out in the sun, she basically put so much sunscreen on that she would look like a ghost. She wears hats that are like umbrellas and would sit in the shade. I think the level of attention she paid to her skin definitely had an impact on me growing up.” And the same goes with her attention to wellness: “We didn’t grow up drinking much soda. We didn’t grow up eating much meat. We drank tea with everything and dessert was fruit.”

Though her cultural background has played a considerable role in her career as a magazine editor today, she doesn’t let her ethnicity strictly define her. Rather, Chen draws the most inspiration from the multi-ethnic, diverse city of New York where she grew up and currently resides. “It’s not one person or thing for me, but I derive such incredible energy from living in New York. I love living in New York. When people are like ‘You should move to…,’ I’m like ‘No. I’m staying in New York.’”

The New York City magazine editor lifestyle is one to be envied, but as Eva demonstrates, it’s a job for the passionate, giving individuals who love to express themselves through the written word and converse with their readers. Though there was more than could fit in this tiny space from our conversation, that Eva Chen has and will continue to impart in substantial dialogues with the teen audience and happily share her beauty and health advice—or any advice at all, whether you ask for it or not—is evident.

Related posts:

1. Actress Lynn Chen’s Advice on Getting Thicker (Dumpling) Skin The first time I heard of Lynn Chen was when...
2. Jen Wang and Diana Nguyen: The Amazians Behind Disgrasian One night several years ago, Jen Wang and Diana Nguyen...
3. Jennifer 8. Lee: Changing the Face of Journalism Believe it or not, Jennifer 8. Lee did not grow...

Courtesy Chang Rae Lee

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.

After that class, I did some research and quickly discovered just how much Chang Rae Lee is celebrated. To this day, I feel privileged to have met him in person. Lee’s stories of personal exploration and struggle have struck a particularly strong chord among the Asian American community. Topics of identity, isolation, cultural disparity, war and endurance resonate strongly among immigrants from all backgrounds—or with anyone who has ever questioned his or her place in the world.

“I think being an immigrant, aside from just Korean American, influenced me most. The perspective of being an outsider in one’s society is often painful and revelatory,” said Lee, who came to the U.S. from Korea at the age of three. He also credits his parents for being strong influential figures who worked hard to create a good life for him and his family.

Interestingly, Lee was a financial analyst on Wall Street before deciding to try his hand at a career in writing.

“I always loved literature and writing and knew I would always write, but didn’t believe it would be a career—perhaps just a serious hobby,” he said. The large success of his first novel, Native Speaker, which follows a Korean American immigrant trying to fit into American society, was a clear sign that he made the right career change.

His novels are beautifully crafted and multi-layered stories that bring to life the emotions, trials and complex inner and outer journeys of the characters. Most known and admired for his distinctive writing style, Lee writes incredibly detailed prose that is both lyrical and deeply emotional. Readers immediately find themselves immersed in the complicated web of personal and societal relationships that protagonist Henry Park navigates throughout Native Speaker and struggle along with June Han from The Surrendered as she tries to conquer her inner demons from the Korean War.

As Lee tells his creative writing students at Princeton University, “To be distinctive is key, and the only way to be distinctive is to write naturally, instinctively and without regard to the opinions of others.”

Lee’s words couldn’t ring more true to his own success. Over the course of his career, Lee has garnered numerous accolades, like the Hemingway Foundation/PEN Award and ALA Notable Book of the Year Award, among others. Pick up one his books, and you’ll not only be inspired to think more deeply about your surroundings, but may even wish to reevaluate the different connections you hold in your own life.

Ultimately, Lee hopes his novels affect “a thoughtful, engaged person who doesn’t shy away from the difficult questions or subjects of life.” His is a straightforward but meaningful message we can all take to heart—that it’s perfectly acceptable to have questions about our identity or place in life, and to always be inquisitive and attentive to our world around us.

Related posts:

1. Margaret Cho: The No-Holds-Barred Entertainer There are no tattoos, bold makeup or crazy costumes present...
2. Yin Chang: The Girl Behind the Glasses On Gossip Girl, Nelly Yuki is perhaps the most complex...
3. Zee Avi: Channeling Boredom and Rebellion into Fame Who would have thought that being bored out of your...

Courtesy archdioceseoftoronto.blogspot.com

I was 11 the first time I realized that the two cultures forming my hapa identity weren’t getting along. My Caucasian grandmother had accompanied me to a Vietnamese-run nail salon so I could get a manicure. Curious as to why my grandmother only stayed around the front desk area the entire half-hour we were inside, I asked her why she didn’t get her nails done as well. As we walked out of the salon, she scoffed, “I don’t trust Asians to do my nails.”

After her remark, my shiny pink nails didn’t seem so cute anymore. I just wanted to get out the nail polish remover and scrub away the entire experience. Why was the salon good enough for me, but way beneath her? And if Asians weren’t good enough for her, was I? With my grandmother putting down one of my identities, for the first time I felt like I couldn’t be both Asian American and Caucasian at once—I had to choose a side.

As I’ve gotten older, the actual hurt from that experience has long faded. After all, it was only one day out of many. However, it wasn’t the only time I’ve had to make a choice between the two cultures. In comparison to that one-day experience, my drama with religion has lasted my entire life.

For me, religion has never been much of a cozy, unifying, family-gathered-round-the-Christmas-tree experience. My mother was raised Jewish; my father Buddhist. Instead of celebrating and appreciating both religious traditions, holidays became a way of pulling us apart. It meant picking one side of the family to spend time with, and not the other. To be honest, I was never sure how to even begin to try to bring the two sides together. I don’t have equal knowledge of both religions (as I was raised Jewish), and there’s not much of a choice now that my dad has adopted certain Jewish beliefs. Sometimes I wish they were more merged, but the traditions in my family have been set.

By the time I started college last year, I thought I had finally figured everything out. I knew I wanted to study computer science. I knew I wanted to live in the dorms. I knew I didn’t want to be known as “Asian.” My goal to separate myself from my physical identity (I only look Asian) failed. My first friends were Asian Americans. The first club meeting I attended was for an Asian American group. I had picked just one side to identify myself with, and I couldn’t figure out a way to be seen as a sum of cultural parts. This was the first time I was living in a place where being of mixed race wasn’t the norm. In my hometown in Hawaii, almost everyone was a mix of cultures. At my college campus, however, it seemed as if everyone was either one thing or another. With no multicultural groups (other than Pan-Asian ones) available to me, I felt the need to figure out one identity to belong to. I’ve found a lot of good friends, and I’m happy with where I am, but I still don’t feel balanced. I want to be known as a mix, as a hapa, not having to pick one side over the other.

I am hapa. That sentence is so easy for me to write, but trying to make it describe my life is so much harder. For me, to be hapa is to be balanced between two (or possibly more) cultures. It is a goal to work toward and an adjective to live up to. I can’t say for certain if I’ll ever be able to achieve it, but it has and will influence my identity and life wherever I go from here.

Related posts:

1. LiNK’s Hannah Song: Forever Committed to a Cause Success comes in many shapes and forms. For Hannah Song,...
2. My Story: Growing Up Asian American in Hawaii My identity crisis starts with being a sixth-generation Chinese and...
3. Evan Low: The Nation’s Youngest Asian American Mayor At age 23, most of us have just graduated from...

Courtesy Jasmine Ako

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 19^th century, but their boat made a stop among a certain island archipelago in the middle of the Pacific Ocean. That stop turned out to be fate—let’s just say they caught “Island fever,” and my family has been there ever since.

Aside from being multiple generations removed from my Chinese and Korean relatives who immigrated to Hawaii, I grew up strongly influenced by various other ethnicities and cultures in Honolulu as well—Japanese, Filipino, Korean, Samoan, Hawaiian, Haole (Hawaiian slang for “white”), Vietnamese, Portuguese and more. A metaphor that Alan Brennert uses in his novel, Honolulu, perfectly illustrates this combination of backgrounds:

“Hawaii has often been called a melting pot, but I think of it more as a ‘mixed plate’— a scoop of rice with gravy, a scoop of macaroni salad, a piece of mahi-mahi, and a side of kimchi. Many different tastes share the plate, but none of them loses its individual flavor, and together they make up a uniquely “local” cuisine.”

So while I did grow up perceptive of other cultures, I never fully identified with my own ethnic identity. Sure, my family would celebrate Asian holidays and eat Asian foods, but that was the extent of it. My parents do not know a word of Chinese or Korean, and my own grandparents speak fluent English and are losing touch with their native language. In addition, I’ve never considered my own parents traditionally Asian. They’ve always been very laid back and accepting, with all of the pressure to succeed and study hard coming from myself. On my own volition, I started taking Mandarin in middle school because learning the language seemed like the natural step in order to get in touch with my roots. I loved it and finally felt confident that I was connecting on a deeper level with my background.

Now, however, I understand that learning Mandarin is a far cry from truly understanding the culture. Going to California for college was a huge cultural and identity wake-up call for me. I instantly felt “less Asian” when I made friends with other first or second generation Asian Americans. Aside from being bilingual in English and their native tongue, many of them had been to Asia multiple times – I have never been – and they seemed to more confidently relate to their backgrounds.

This divide became jarringly clear during a specific episode of cultural misunderstanding in my sophomore year of college. For Christmas, I bought my Taiwanese boyfriend’s mom a beautiful koa wood clock for the new home they had just moved into. I was astonished and taken aback when she told me she did not like the gift. She told me that clocks are symbols of death in Chinese culture and are not generally acceptable as gifts. I was hurt—I had picked out the clock with my mom and thought it was beautiful—but also frustrated that my own family and I could be so culturally ignorant.

Looking back, I realize that there are significant lessons I can take away from the situation. I have to be more observant of other cultures, but at the same time, be easier on myself for not understanding something. I could not possibly have known clocks were bad luck unless I had researched “things not to buy Chinese people” on Google, which seems like a bit of overkill when purchasing a simple gift. However, that predicament taught me a good lesson as well—to be mindful and open-minded. I’ve also learned that it is impossible to mold myself into being “more Asian.” What I can do is always keep learning and be comfortable in my own skin.

Now, I’m working on my Mandarin skills by minoring in Chinese at USC, and I plan on studying abroad in China next year to truly immerse myself in a new surrounding. Maybe I’ll have an epiphany of some kind, but for now, I know that it is okay to be a little unsure of my own identity.

Even though I never knew my predecessors that immigrated to Hawaii, I’m incredibly thankful. If it weren’t for them, I wouldn’t have had such a privileged and culturally stimulating childhood growing up in the “aloha” state. I realize now that I really am a mixed plate: Chinese, Korean, American and ‘Hawaiian’ at heart—not just one of them, but all the parts put together.

Related posts:

1. K-Pop Fever and Its Asian American Victims There’s no doubt that Korean pop culture (affectionately called K-pop)...
2. Evan Low: The Nation’s Youngest Asian American Mayor At age 23, most of us have just graduated from...
3. Hapa Diaries: The Pull of Two Cultures I am hapa. With an Asian American father and a...

Courtesy Jesse Hambley

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. Even then, she had a lingering curiosity and interest in North Korea and its people. Growing up, Song knew that her grandmother was North Korean, but didn’t understand the weight of what that meant.

By reading literature such as Escape to the Outside World: From Total Control Prison Camp No. 14 in North Korea by Shin Dong-hyuk, currently LiNK’s Senior Ambassador, and Still Life with Rice and The Absence of Sun by Helie Lee, Song exposed herself to the human rights violations in North Korea. “It was too real, too current,” said Song. “I felt so helpless.”

After talking to a close friend who knew Adrian Hong, co-founder and former executive director of LiNK, Song started volunteering with the group—initially at a benefit concert in Rutgers—which helped her see how easy it was to get involved. Shortly after, Song was asked to be on LiNK’s executive board, where she held the position of deputy director from 2004 until 2008.

However, working in both the corporate and philanthropic world side-by-side at that time was stressful for Song. “[I was] reaching a tipping point, working 80 to 90 hours a week for what?” said Song. In 2006, she became a full-time staffer at LiNK.

Though it wasn’t an easy decision for her to join an NGO full-time, Song had the support of her family.

“[My parents] respected my decision. They knew that I would not be swayed. They weren’t hugely supportive in the beginning but over time my family really came around,” Song said. “I think there has to be a mutual respect. If there is maturity, it should become apparent to them that you are happy doing it and this is what you want to do. As a second generation, we have all these resources: Do we do what we want or follow passion?”

Courtesy Jesse Hambley

In 2008, Song was chosen by Hong to become the new CEO of LiNK. Under her leadership, LiNK moved from Washington D.C. to Los Angeles. Song recalls being extremely scared and nervous: “I thought, ‘I’m not [just] moving the organization to LA, but my entire family (her then-fiancé). We’re either going to succeed or fail.’”

By 2009, LiNK’s transformation under Song’s leadership had a snowball effect, with the renovation of different projects, like the Chapter Program, moving into full development. “I think the genesis of LiNK happened in 2009. We started over again, keeping credibility and really saying ‘All right, now we really know what we’re doing.’ I would say the transition for me was best described as being a big learning experience and a lot of risks,” said Song.

Song describes her role as CEO as the “least sexy job,” since it includes working on mundane but necessary protocols for the organization. She also works hard managing people, chapters and helping people feel like they’re a part of something bigger—a key element. “That’s an area ignored for NGOs,” said Song. From 2008 to 2009, LiNK’s revenue had increased 106 percent—an accomplishment which Song sees as a result of implementing those changes.

Even through these impressive numbers, Song remains levelheaded. When asked what her greatest accomplishment is as CEO, she said she had none. She may have ensured that the organization was better structured, but the accomplishment is not hers to claim, she said. “I have ensured that the right people are on board with me. That’s the only reason why LiNK is the way it is today,” said Song. “All the numbers are wonderful but that’s what our job is—that’s what we should be doing, it’s not an accomplishment.”

At 29, Song proves that youth should not be a deterrent for making a change in the world. A firm believer in taking chances, Song advises that every opportunity should be seized with confidence. “I have the utmost hope in the youth and every opportunity I have, [I] would love to invest in the youth.”

The North Korean human rights crisis is an ongoing issue of massive but underrated proportions—and there’s a place for everyone in every field to get involved. Song’s final piece of advice: “Philanthropy should be an [integral] part of everyone’s life. If we can do this and make this everyone’s mentality and attitude—imagine where the world would be.”

For more information on LiNK and how you can get involved, visit their website at www.linkglobal.org.

Related posts:

1. Asian Clubs Link Students Across the Nation Despite barriers of distance, time zones and regional culture, there...
2. The Sweet Life of Brenda Song Disney star Brenda Song on her favorite things: acting, taekwondo,...
3. Evan Low: The Nation’s Youngest Asian American Mayor At age 23, most of us have just graduated from...