Dartmouth: Introduce yourself Essay

The sizzle of garlic hitting hot oil, the rhythmic chopping of vegetables, and my grandmother's soft humming filled our kitchen every Sunday afternoon. While most children my age complained about family obligations, I treasured these cooking sessions. My grandmother, a first-generation immigrant from Vietnam, never formally taught me about our heritage—instead, she showed me through food. "Cooking is remembering," she would say, her hands deftly wrapping spring rolls while I awkwardly mimicked her movements. These Sunday afternoons were more than culinary lessons; they were my first experience with cultural preservation.

In the steam rising from pots of ph?, I found the stories my grandmother couldn't always articulate in English—tales of resilience, adaptation, and finding home in unfamiliar places.

My father, meanwhile, represented a different cultural current in my life. Born and raised in Minnesota, his Midwestern pragmatism and scientific mind shaped our household's other half. An environmental engineer, he approached problems with methodical precision and taught me to question everything—even the cooking traditions I held sacred. "But why do you need to wash rice three times?" he would ask my grandmother, who would respond with the universal answer of elders everywhere: "Because that's how it's done." Their gentle cultural clash became the backdrop of my childhood, teaching me early that knowledge comes in many forms—some measurable, others passed through generations of hands.

Growing up at this cultural intersection made me a natural translator—not just of language, but of perspectives. At school, I explained my lunch of bánh mì to curious classmates. At home, I helped my grandmother navigate American systems that remained foreign even after decades in the country. I existed between worlds, sometimes uncomfortably, but always learning. This position of "both/and" rather than "either/or" has defined not just my identity, but my approach to education and problem-solving.

The Journey Through Academics

My dual cultural heritage manifested in my academic pursuits as well. In high school, I found myself drawn to both humanities and sciences, unwilling to choose between disciplines that seemed, to me, complementary rather than opposing. While my father's influence led me to excel in advanced mathematics and chemistry, my grandmother's storytelling spirit drew me to literature and history. When most of my peers were specializing, I was synthesizing—finding connections between seemingly disparate fields.

This interdisciplinary mindset led me to initiate what became my most meaningful project: a student-led environmental justice campaign in our community. After learning about elevated lead levels in older neighborhoods predominantly occupied by immigrant families, I recognized a problem that required both scientific understanding and cultural sensitivity. Drawing on my chemistry knowledge, I organized water testing workshops at the local community center, creating materials in three languages. Yet the science alone wasn't enough—gaining trust required understanding the historical reasons many immigrant families hesitated to engage with official institutions or scientific authorities.

Through this initiative, I witnessed firsthand how cultural awareness enhances scientific work. When residents expressed skepticism about our findings, I didn't dismiss their concerns but listened to the historical contexts that framed their distrust. By acknowledging past environmental injustices in immigrant communities, we built bridges that pure scientific data couldn't. By the project's end, we had tested water in over 200 homes and connected 53 families with resources for remediation. More importantly, we established an ongoing community science program that continues today, creating a model where scientific literacy and cultural understanding reinforce each other.

Finding My Voice

Throughout high school, I often felt pressure to choose a single identity. College application strategies suggested specializing, becoming "the science student" or "the humanities student" to stand out. Friends questioned why I divided my time between science olympiads and creative writing competitions, as though these interests represented opposing parts of myself that needed reconciliation. For a time, I attempted to compartmentalize, to present different versions of myself in different contexts. In AP Chemistry, I minimized my passion for literature; in English seminars, I rarely mentioned my fascination with environmental science.

The turning point came during junior year when our English teacher assigned a project on "science communication." What many classmates viewed as a chore, I recognized as permission to integrate my interests. My project—a series of personal essays examining environmental issues through cultural and scientific lenses—received unexpected recognition when it was published in a local magazine. For the first time, I saw how my particular background and combination of interests could become a strength rather than a source of confusion.

This realization led me to embrace rather than minimize the cultural and academic intersections that define me. I founded our school's first interdisciplinary journal, creating space for students to explore connections between fields typically kept separate. When we published our first issue featuring research articles alongside poetry, art, and personal essays—all examining environmental themes from different angles—I saw my own internal academic landscape reflected in a community project. The journal has now published three issues and expanded to include students from two neighboring schools.

Community and Service

Continuing from my exploration of academic intersections, I've found that my most meaningful contributions have come from applying this integrative approach to community service. During my sophomore year, I began volunteering at a local community center serving primarily Southeast Asian immigrants. Initially, I was assigned to teach basic computer skills to elderly residents—a task I approached with the technical precision my father had instilled in me. I created step-by-step guides, practiced patience, and focused on measurable outcomes. Yet despite my methodical approach, I struggled to connect with many participants who seemed hesitant to ask questions or express confusion.

After several frustrating sessions, I remembered my grandmother's approach to teaching me cooking—not through formal instruction but through stories, shared experiences, and cultural context. The next week, I restructured the computer class. We began with tea and shared stories about communication across distances. Many elders described writing letters to family members overseas for decades before having access to computers. I shared how my grandmother had kept cassette tapes of family members' voices before international calls became affordable. These stories created a foundation of shared understanding that made the technology more approachable.

This blended approach transformed the program. Attendance doubled, and participants began helping each other, creating an informal support network that extended beyond our weekly sessions. Several elders who had initially been reluctant to touch a computer were, within months, independently using video calls to connect with family overseas. One participant, an 83-year-old former teacher, told me: "You teach like someone who understands what it means to live between worlds." Her words affirmed that my ability to navigate different cultural approaches to learning had tangible value beyond my personal development.

This experience reinforced my belief that cultural understanding enhances technical assistance. I've since applied this integrative approach to other community initiatives, including developing culturally responsive emergency preparedness materials for immigrant communities and creating intergenerational storytelling workshops that use digital tools to preserve cultural narratives. In each case, my dual cultural literacy has allowed me to bridge gaps that purely technical or purely cultural approaches might miss.

Looking Forward

As I consider my future at Dartmouth, I'm drawn to how the college embraces interdisciplinary thinking and global perspectives. The Environmental Studies Program, with its integration of natural sciences, social sciences, and humanities, reflects my own approach to understanding complex issues. I'm particularly excited about the opportunity to participate in the Earth Systems Science foreign study program, which would allow me to apply both scientific rigor and cultural sensitivity to environmental challenges in other contexts.

Similarly, Dartmouth's strong emphasis on undergraduate research through programs like the Women in Science Project and the Sophomore Science Scholars aligns with my interest in conducting research that crosses traditional boundaries. I hope to work with faculty like Professor Melody Brown Burkins, whose work on science diplomacy and sustainable development embodies the integration of scientific expertise with cultural and political understanding that I aspire to develop.

Beyond academics, Dartmouth's vibrant international community and organizations like the Pan-Asian Council would provide spaces to continue exploring cultural identity and building bridges between different communities. The college's location—close to nature yet connected to global networks—mirrors my own desire to remain grounded in specific communities while engaging with broader global challenges.

The Path Ahead

When I reflect on the question of "introducing myself" to Dartmouth, I realize that I am, in many ways, still introducing myself to myself. Each day brings new awareness of how my cultural backgrounds, academic interests, and personal experiences interact to shape who I am and who I might become. What I can say with certainty is that I thrive at intersections—of cultures, disciplines, and communities. My Vietnamese grandmother's emphasis on relationship and context balances my Midwestern father's focus on empirical evidence and systematic thinking. Together, these influences have taught me that the most compelling solutions often emerge when diverse perspectives converge.

I envision my undergraduate years at Dartmouth as an opportunity to continue this exploration of intersections, particularly in addressing environmental challenges that require both scientific literacy and cultural awareness. I hope to pursue a major in Environmental Studies with a focus on global health, allowing me to examine how ecological issues intersect with human wellbeing across different cultural contexts. Complementing this, I'm drawn to the Ethics Institute and its focus on how moral frameworks inform our responses to contemporary challenges. This combination would prepare me to address environmental issues in ways that respect both scientific evidence and diverse cultural values.

Outside the classroom, I hope to contribute to campus publications, perhaps helping to create spaces for interdisciplinary dialogue similar to the journal I founded in high school. I'm also eager to engage with the Dartmouth Center for Social Impact, applying my experience in community organizing to collaborative projects that address local needs. These activities would allow me to both share my perspective and continue learning from others' experiences and expertise.

Throughout my life, I've often been asked to choose between identities, disciplines, and communities. At each juncture, I've instead sought integration, finding strength in the complexity of belonging to multiple worlds simultaneously. At Dartmouth, I hope to continue this journey—not by simplifying who I am, but by embracing the rich tapestry of influences that have shaped me and will continue to guide my growth. Like my grandmother's cooking, which blends traditional Vietnamese techniques with locally available ingredients, I hope my Dartmouth experience will allow me to create something both authentic to my origins and responsive to new environments and challenges.

Conclusion

If there's one thing my dual heritage has taught me, it's that identity is not static but constantly evolving through encounter and exchange. The version of myself I present today is not the final iteration but part of an ongoing process of becoming. At Dartmouth, I look forward to the new intersections I will encounter—with peers from diverse backgrounds, with faculty whose expertise spans multiple fields, with a campus community that values both tradition and innovation.

In introducing myself to Dartmouth, I offer not a finished portrait but a work in progress—a student shaped by cultural duality, fascinated by interdisciplinary approaches, and committed to applying these perspectives to real-world challenges. I bring with me my grandmother's wisdom that "cooking is remembering" and my father's insistence that we question even the most established traditions. Together, these influences have taught me that the most interesting questions often arise at boundaries—between cultures, between disciplines, between past and future.

As I stand at this new threshold, ready to join the Dartmouth community, I carry these lessons with me: that understanding requires both evidence and empathy; that the most meaningful work often happens in the spaces between established categories; and that our strongest contributions come when we bring our full, complex selves to the table. I look forward to sharing my particular perspective while learning from the diverse experiences and insights of the Dartmouth community, creating new intersections that will shape not just my college years but my contribution to addressing the complex challenges we collectively face.

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