It's hard to imagine now, but food was nowhere near where I anticipated my life would lead. I started my career as a very (literally) hungry management consultant before becoming the youngest MBA candidate at Columbia Business School. Shockingly, resume accolades do not make us truly happy, and I found myself depressed and lost. I decided to take a sabbatical and go "find myself" — which led me to culinary school, various Michelin-starred restaurants, and a bizarre set of jobs (including selling cold-pressed juice door-to-door to Silicon Valley VC firms). Through these twists and turns, I parlayed my abilities into a culinary consulting business, which I am lucky to say has been successful and rewarding, while forcing me to grow up and become a professional.

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But I wanted more. In 2018, I had an epiphany (at acupuncture) that I should use augmented & virtual reality (AR, VR) to make my food events more meaningful. That led to the creation of Asian in America, an award-nominated dinner series that explores the complexities of Asian American identity through 6 courses of food and 3 courses of cocktails paired with virtual reality, poetry, and spoken word. I toured this experience across the U.S. through 2020, at venues ranging from the Museum of Food & Drink, the Museum of Chinese in America, and the Japanese American National Museum, to the Hawai'i International Film Festival and the James Beard House.

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Through hosting justice-oriented experiences like Asian in America, I came to realize that community-based work truly filled me up. So when COVID-19 shuttered group dining, the silver lining was being able to shift my focus entirely to running Studio ATAO, a nonprofit food industry think tank dedicated to community-informed research, food systems education, and worker organizing. Over five years, we tackled thorny issues the industry had long ignored, from tokenism in food media to gentrification driven by hospitality businesses, while building educational resources and community spaces for food and beverage workers to sharpen their critical analysis and advocate for themselves.

Now that I'm abroad and striking out on my own again, this time in academia, I still have no idea where this road will lead me. As I say to myself every morning, what matters is that I choose growth and self-compassion in the face of whatever comes my way. The good news is, I'll never wake up and wonder, "What if?"