A book and its cover.

1. My host family

My Japanese host family parents live in a modest house in a suburb area. When they first picked me up, took the bus together and walked me home from the bus stop, we passed by many other houses that were grand, pretty, and have a nice garden in front. "Okaasan (Japanese for mom)'s house is very small!" - she said with a slight smile when she saw that I was mesmerized by the beauty of other houses as we were walking by. Of course, I did not have any expectation, and coming from a working class family myself, I thought anything was fine, really.

My host dad has retired, and works only twice a week. Mom works 5 days a week, taking care of old people, some of them were born in the Meiji era. Mom and dad are 61 and 66 years old, respectively. I like them for being very caring parents to me, preparing food, doing my laundry, cleaning my room, taking me to places during weekends, eating yakiniku (fried meats) and drinking beer with me, talking and laughing at dinner table every day; all kind of things that make a happy household in my opinions. And of course, they even do things such as helping me organize my activities, asking me if any friend rides the bus to school with me everyday, making sure I study for tests as well as asking how well I did afterwards. It's these very daily life things that make me very comfortably think that I'm a part of their family, not just an exchange student who stays in a local's house.

However, over the past three weeks, I just slowly discovered more and more things about them, which made me even more surprised about this seemingly normal household. Mom, though healthy looking, is a relatively short and skinny lady. Yet, when I asked, "What do you do in your free time?", she answers "I lead a taiko club." She has been practicing taiko (Japanese traditional drum) for 12 years, and currently manages a taiko club (schedules practices, manages performances requests, etc.). Last Tuesday, she took me to her club's venue, a small house in the mountainside so that no one can hear when they practice. The small lady just picked up the bachi (taiko sticks) and banged into the big drum, then the small drums very skillfully, and dancing with her bachi along the beats. My only thought was, "Wow", and I could utter into sound a single word: "Wow". Who could have told? Who could have known? The experience totally destroyed any kind of pre-concepts that I had of a kind housewife lady who works to take care of old people.

Then comes my host dad. Mom has explained to me what he does for work at the beginning, but due to my limited Japanese, I didn't really understand what his job was. So for two weeks long, my image of him was only a kind old man who walks his dog twice a day. Then last week I just got to know that he paints many of the beautiful paintings in the house himself, and plays bowling once a week (honestly though, who in their 66 years of age still plays such a young person's sport like bowling?). Then last night, when we went to a restaurant in a hotel after onsen (Japanese public bath), I noticed that the panel with the name of the restaurant at the entrance was really beautiful. As I told my host mom that, I found out that the designer was my host dad, and he single-handedly designed all of the beautiful logos, doors, and panels of this hotel.

At that very moment, I suddenly realized that, to everyone who was eating in the hotel at that time, when they look at him, they only see an old man who walk into the restaurant, still in his post-onsen clothings. Again, who could have known? 

2. The people on the street

I just realize that in general, when I look at anyone on the street, I only see their face, their clothes, their hairstyles, their actions, etc. all those superficial things. But it never really occurs to me that beneath those superficiality of each and every one of us in society lies a story, a character, and a soul. Do we know what they can and what they cannot do? Do we know how they feel? Do we know their past, present, and future? No. 

This morning on the bus, as I went past the people walking on the street, never before did I become so curious about each of them. "What are their stories?" - I asked myself. I didn't and will never have an answer. But the question itself was very intriguing, I thought.

3. Myself

Lately, someone told me that I appeared very "goofy" when he first met me, and that bothered me a little. I am aware that I have been a jokester my whole life in public, and only my good friends know me past that level. This fact doesn't bother me so much when I look at it from my perspective. However, now, with the context of everything I just wrote above about what is shown and what lies beneath the superficiality of a person, I start to look at this again from a second party's perspective, and it kind of bothers me. "Then I respect you a lot more when I realize how smart you are when you got into Harvard." - said the same person.

This made me, for the past 2 days, keep asking myself, that is there really nothing else interesting of me besides the two words "smart" and "Harvard"? I actually don't know the answer myself. Of course it is a compliment, but if "goofy", "smart" and "Harvard" are the only things one can see when they look at me, then I must be a damn boring person.

Am I a damn boring person? Maybe not, maybe.

Graduate Schools and The Voice

I like to watch The Voice. The reason why I like it and not other singing contests is due to its interesting format. Every season of The Voice starts with a Blind Auditions round, in which each contestant walks on stage and sings a song of their choice. The judges, who have to turn their back and cannot look at the contestant, have to decide whether they like the contestant enough to admit the contestant into their team. If more then one judge presses the button to choose the contestant, the contestant then has the power to choose between those judges to decide which team they want to be on. This format is fascinating to me for two reasons:

(1) The fact that the judges cannot see the contestant automatically eliminate the importance of having "the look" - it's purely based on the voice instead.

(2) It actually doesn't really matter if the contestant sings well. Many people sing well. It depends on whether you deliver a final blow, a moment of extreme climax of perfection that is attractive enough to force the judges to press the button. Some people with good, consistent audition do not make it. Some with less of a voice, however, still get in because they have only one precious, irresistible moment.

Here is why I'm writing this post: there are SCARY, scary similarities between this contest and the graduate school admissions process that I've just been through. I realized those resemblances this morning, and had to think about the implications for a while.

In the graduate school admissions process, the PhD programs have to pick their candidates without ever knowing the candidates. They only see the grades on the application, and read the recommendations from other professors. There is no telling whatsoever how the applicants will do later on, nor whether the applicant will fit into the program. That is similar to point (1) I mentioned above. Moreover, for the top programs, what matters the most is that you have something outstanding. I was like any other students for most of my undergraduate study, and I still am. I was just lucky that in my junior year, I was assigned to an awesome professor who advised me to write a paper that was good enough to convince the professors and the graduate schools I applied to that I'm qualified for their programs. It is just like being on the stage, singing. Everything was normal; nothing was special. And then, there is a moment that captivates people's attention. It was like that for me and graduate schools.

There are more similarities: after having that special moment, often almost all of the judges would press the button to choose that particular contestant. Then, the contestant would be praised by all of these judges, who themselves are amazing artists, that they are so good, that they are perhaps the best so far in the competition, and that they probably could win the whole competitions. Some of them actually deserved these comments; most don't. But when you are in that position, it is so easy to buy into those sweet talks and believe that you are worth it. I am still in the process: many schools, Harvard, MIT, Princeton, Stanford, etc. amazing schools that I've never dreamed of getting into, are now trying their best to convince me (as well as other applicants who they think must have been admitted into many top schools) to join their program. Does it make me feel special? Yes. It is a great validation for my efforts. But maybe it's a bit too much. Objectively speaking, I'm worth far less than what they are trying to sell me; and I'll have to try a lot harder to deserve the honor of getting into all of these places.

I often think about this stage as the "honeymoon stage" - for both The Voice and grad schools. You feel so good that you think from then on, everything will be easy.

Well, I haven't experienced grad schools, but I know exactly the hard truth in The Voice. Most people get eliminated regardless of how much praises they received originally. Some were told by the judges that they could win the entire competition if they picked the right judge, then they chose that judge, and as soon as the next round occurred, they were eliminated by that very judge without mercy. Only through time that one realizes real talents, efforts, and persistence are required to persevere and succeed in the long run.

I suspect the same thing is true for graduate schools. You are told that you are special. As soon as you pick a school, you realize that there are 25 other equally, if not more, special as you are. There are 10 top schools, so that's a pool of 250 special people. In the end, only less than 10% of these people will actually have a successful career, or actually contribute to the society, or have a lasting impact. So I just thought that I, who lack the talents, must exert much more efforts and be really persistent, if I want to survive in this harsh environment called academia.

Of course, you don't have to be the very top to be successful or useful; so in some sense these two things are a little bit different. (Actually, even in The Voice, being the winner doesn't guarantee success; some who did not win was eventually more successful). In my opinions, it all comes down to (1) who get out of the honeymoon stage early enough, (2) have a clear sense of purpose, and (3) work hard to accomplish that purpose.

The road ahead is quite scary, when I think about it, but having good options for graduate school is a good start. Now I just have to make it all about the work rather than pride, honor, or fame.

The F Word

This morning I woke up to three different messages from three high school girls who are much different in every way but currently chasing the same goal: pursuing the UWC scholarship to better their future. I had the honor of getting to know them throughout the process - from reading their applications, interviewing them, giving them advice, etc. and even though I am no stranger to admissions process of this kind, each of them amazes me with what they are capable of and, more importantly, what they aspire to be capable of.

This morning I woke up to three different messages; and one of them was good news. First, congratulations to the lucky candidate who got the spot. You totally deserve the scholarship. This may sound cliché, but most UWCers would tell you this same cliché thing: you are about to have the best two years of your life. I was in your shoe 6 years ago (now to say that out loud makes me feel old): a student from a rural province who didn't get much chance to learn anything besides academic rigor. I came to UWC unequiped, without knowing how to play any instrument or speak any other language besides my broken English. I came to UWC with all my immaturity and insecurity. Yet, I had something of great value: curiosity. I was willing to learn any instrument my friend teaches me, learn any languages or phrases I could absorb, and was willing to make friends with essentially anyone who feels the same way. With that, UWC changed me and my life, and became certainly the best two years of my life. So, I really hope you will also make the most out of UWC in place of so many others who couldn't make it!

Now, to my dear friends who didn't make the cut get the UWC scholarship: please do NOT, in any way, feel that you did not make the cut! Do NOT think about this as if you weren't good enough for any quality cutoff. Even though we already tried really hard to make UWC not so much of a competition and simply award the scholarship to the right people, because of the limited number, there were always hard decisions to make in the process. However, please remember what some of you told me in the interview when I asked why you deserved this chance: you answered "it's because I'm different"! Indeed, you all are very, very different individuals whose values can't be compared and contrasted easily. It is almost impossible to do so. I just hope you take this UWC application experience as a chance to reflect on your own life and values: to get to know yourself, what you are, and what you are not. These reflections will be precious for you in the future, when you apply to US colleges, graduate schools, find jobs, or sometimes, just to know what you are living for.

That said, it's easy for me to say all that because I'm not the one that received the decision this time. Well, yes and no. It's true that I'm not applying; and it may seem as if success always comes to me easily. In fact that's what those who don't know me always think. When they look at me, they see someone who won a ton of awards, got into PTNK (High school for the gifted HCMC), was awarded the UWC scholarship, got into Princeton, etc. "Everything seems so easy for you" - I heard this many times. It seems like a compliment, but to me, it's an understatement of all my efforts and ignorance of all my failures. So let me tell you some occasions in which I have failed and felt worthless:

1. I studied computer science briefly and won a 2nd prize national in my 5th grade, and briefly became well known in my province at the time. Then for the next three years (6th, 7th, 8th grade), I either failed to advance to nationals, or failed to get any merits at the national round (twice). Three years of trying is a long time and a lot of efforts, and not getting any result for three years straight pretty much told me I wasn't cut for programming anymore.

Good thing I didn't drop programming; otherwise, I won't have got into PTNK and UWC and Princeton and all that follow. :)

2. When I got into Princeton, I really wanted to sing. I really wanted to join an a cappella group, and tried out for 10+ clubs in my freshman year, including the glee club and the musical theater groups. In the 2nd week of my freshman year at Princeton, I received 10+ rejection letters in a week.

Good thing I didn't stop trying, because in my second year, I got into VTone, my a cappella group, who turned out to be the best group of people I met at Princeton.

3. I was told by a school representative that if I applied to a certain international internship placement, I would get it for sure because there was not much competition. I applied, and got the usual generic "Thank you for applying but..." email some months later. Then I applied to a few more internships that offered placement through Princeton, and got rejected by all. I was very frustrated, and sent my cover letter to some 20 random research institutions I could find on the internet to ask them for an internship, even if they say that they do not have one.

Good thing I did so, because one out of 20 replied.

As you can see, in hindsight, persistence is always the optimal choice. However, when one faces failures, and the future is so uncertain, determining whether to keep going or give up can be difficult.

Well, the key is, try to look at your problems in hindsight!

Keep trying. I wish you all best of lucks!

Real Values, Nominal Values, Conditional values

The title of the post is an abuse of terminology from Economics - you are probably thinking about inflation - but in fact what comes below has nothing to do with money. After one whole week of (stressful) exams, burying myself deep under many levels of academics, I have finally had the time to sit down, sip my coffee slowly and finish the thoughts I've had for many weeks now. This post, is my attempt to answer the question "which achievements have real values, and which don't?"

Just a few line to explain the contextual background of this question. Fact is, I have had a hard time for the past few weeks trying to figure out what values I have, or, if there is a market for human values, how much I am worth. Then, I tried to imagine a world without me, and there seemed to be no difference, at even the smallest scale. The Economics Department at Princeton would probably be that same department in Fisher Hall, with or without a kid who studies macro and knows a thing or two about Economics. Then I look at a few friends. There are friends back home who are actively helping poor communities with their projects. Then there are many UWC classmates who are traveling the world and doing their best to raise social awareness. Then there are many fellow Princetonians who have already established their start-ups, etc.

Then there is me, who, with my pen and paper, try to solve a differential equation or learn macroeconomics theory. So I got impatient, and probably I would get impatient many more times in the next 6 years in graduate school (provided I get into one). So I did myself a favor, and started to try to categorize the many things I did to see which one was of real value, and which one was not.

The first thing I considered was my getting into Princeton, and I concluded it only had conditional values. I will later define the term 'conditional values,' but let me explain. When I was in middle school, I tried my best to get into good high school. Then I tried my best to get into good university. Then I am trying my best to get into graduate school. Then I would probably try my best to look for a job, and then to get promotion. This perpetual stream of wants or desires is common to most people; many of us have done the same until we stop at a certain point. There is certainly no clear right and wrong in how early one chooses to leave this road, high school, university, or graduate school; since as we have observed, there are successes and failures in any case. What then, determines the value of getting into a good school, like Princeton, for instance? To answer that, assume after college, I will go back home and be a singer-songwriter. Then there is no difference between me getting into Princeton and me getting into a university in Vietnam. The value of me getting into Princeton, therefore, depends on the values of the thing I will do after college. Hence, getting into Princeton only have conditional values, for the values are being conditioned on other values. Conditional value is dangerous, since it may mislead people into thinking that it is the real deal itself. For that reason, I didn't like it when people call each other "name + institution name," such as when some Vietnamese people called me "Vu Princeton," as if the institution is the face value of me. It is not.

Then I realized 21 years old is a stage of life where most of the values we carry are conditional, and it is our choice to make that value either real or nominal. By real values, I mean things that leave an impact for oneself, his/her family and acquaintances, or the community. By nominal values, I mean things that only sound good by name, but everyone's life, including the value-bearer, would be unaltered without it. For instance, the GPA I have tried so hard and spent so much time to achieve would mean nothing if I do not get into graduate school (which is another conditional value). My knowledge about dynamic optimization and other macroeconomic theory would have real value if I use it to write a paper that contributes an important insight; otherwise it turns into nominal, since me not knowing dynamic optimization wouldn't change my life, my family's or anyone else's lives for the worse.

Naturally, real values are preferable to nominal ones for any rational person who aims at a 'happy life,' a life of virtues (slight reference to Aristotle). So everyone aims for real values. The problem is that sometimes we only do so subconsciously, and forget what real values we are aiming at (so-called "being lost"); or, get confused between conditional values and real values, as mentioned above. Getting lost temporarily is okay, but getting confused between different types of values is utterly dangerous. The most important thing is to be very clear about which category each of your values belongs to - nominal, conditional, or real.

Well - just random thoughts when my time constraint slacks.

And I am feeling so small...

I have not been home for Tet for 5 years. The perks of being home for Tet are not limited to being able to eat delicious food or getting red pockets, but also seeing friends and relatives that I would not be able to see during my summer visit, since Tet is the only time of the year that everyone is at home instead of struggling with life elsewhere. This time, I was able to meet and spend quality time with many friends from middle school, and we had the fun time together that we had waited for many years.

That said, while Tet is already wonderful enough as it is, this trip back to Vietnam has gone beyond expectation, which I give credits to the new people I met. The high intensity of family and group-of-friends gatherings allowed me to expand my friend circle and meet many new people, from young to old, whose knowledge and characters have fascinated me so much in the past few days. If I had to describe the magnitude of good impression these people have had upon me, I would have to cite a verse of the song "Say Something" (A Great Big World ft. Christina Aguilera) that has been playing in my head for days:

And I am feeling so small

It was over my head

I know nothing at all

Well, I admit this verse is applied out of context, but I must say, I am not at all being theatrical. I guess being inside the Princeton bubble and my own world of Economics and academics for so long makes me forget what great things people do and what great ideas people think of out there.

To give an example, while I closely follow the news of the U.S., I hardly think much about them and simply follow the "perspective of the crowds," that is, to agree on whatever said on the media or by the majority of the people. But then, when I had a conversation yesterday with my great uncle, a military strategist, who for obvious reasons does not know as well as I do about what's happening in America. Yet, when I updated him with the news, he was able to give many interesting perspectives, many of which I may or may not agree with, yet very noteworthy regardless. Only then that I realized whatever part of my brain that is devoted to issues outside academics has been put in hibernating mode.

This is just an example. With the high intensity of gatherings and the many different people at each gathering, I got exposure to so much more astonishment. Each and every of my friends and relatives opened my eyes with their understanding of law, history, international relations, general knowledge, languages, life skills, and talents. Though being in Princeton student still makes me proud of my efforts along the way, I've never dared to think of myself as any superior individual, for I think we are all different as who we are, and sometimes the only thing that picks one out of a diverse crowd is luck. Yet, this time around, I am really wondering the Princeton admissions office has picked the wrong person. Or maybe I have not tried hard enough to live up to the name and reputation that were bestowed upon.

Anyways, right now the only emotion I have is

And I am feeling so small

It was over my head

I know nothing at all.

and this is just the inspiration that I need.

Favors

Caution: Don't relate yourself to this blog post for any reason. 99% chance is that I'm not talking about you. Though I do feel the need to say what needs to be said, I very much fear misunderstanding.

Recently, I watched the US political drama series "House of Cards" and was very impressed by what the main character, an ambitious Congressman, said: "I like it when people owe me a favor". Indeed, in the series, all the favors he'd done for people were returned to him very timely at the most critical moments.

I've done many people favors in the past, as they did for me. When people thank me nowadays, I've got what I thought is a good response without making people feel awkward: "I like to have people owe me a favor". Well, though I must admit the potential benefits, I don't think this reasoning was why I did people a favor in the first place. Nor when people do me favors normally. That is the nature of favors, at least it should be: One should not do favors out of expectation for returns.

However, I've been frustrated lately by some certain people whom I appreciated for their values, and whom I had tried my best to help constantly for a long period of time (say, months) when they needed. Well, nowadays even a greeting once in a while (read: years) seem difficult for them. It's as if everything is forgotten. Well, this seems to contradict my point earlier about expecting nothing in return. In fact, it does, as a part of me expects this friendship to be maintained, unless we had done something horrible to each other, which did not happen. This situation made me re-question many things about my philosophy and the nature of relationship between humans. Or is it simply time can make people forget everything?

Or, maybe I'm too nostalgic a person.

A (really) bad analogy

This week I have spent most of my time researching on the bailouts practice in America. The Central Bank, as many people agree, has a role as the lender of last resort who is willing to provide liquidity to an illiquid bank. By rough definition, there are two types of "bad" banks: the insolvent one, and the illiquid one. The latter is "less bad" than the former. A bank is insolvent when its assets value goes down, hence its net worth becomes negative. This is often because a bank is imprudent in its lending, resulting in a big portion of non-performing debts on its asset side. During crisis time, when these assets go down in value enough, a bank becomes insolvent. In theory, this type of bad bank does not deserve help, and should take the bad consequence as punishment in the competitive environment. Alternatively, a bank can be illiquid, which means that it is just unlucky that many people, for unconvincing reasons, show up to demand cash at the same time. This bank deserves help, since it has done nothing wrong. The problem is, it is often hard to distinguish an illiquid (unlucky) bank, and an insolvent (bad) bank. Hence, the government, even with good intention, may end up bailing out the bad bank as well.

To make a really bad analogy, in research, there is an unmotivated researcher, and a bad researcher. An unmotivated researcher, like an illiquid bank, generally is a decent researcher who does nothing wrong, and he is just unlucky that no idea comes up at a particular point of time. A bad researcher, on the other hand, takes on many imprudent actions (not trying hard enough, not having the brain to be a researcher, etc.) and simply deserves to fail and be kicked out of the field. Now, that's me right now. It's not clear to me which type I am.

Let's hope I'm the unmotivated one.