Archives for 2025

Part of: 2025 Nellie Wong Magic of Movies Essay Contest

Watching Violet Du Feng’s documentary The Dating Game (2025) was unexpectedly emotional for me. On the surface, it’s about three bachelors-Zhou, Li, and Wu-as they attend a seven day dating bootcamp in ChongQing, China, led by the bold dating coach Hao and his more grounded wife, Wen. But beneath the humor and awkward moments lies a deeper story about loneliness, gender imbalance, and the pressure to perform in a society still shaped by the aftereffects of the one-child policy. I didn’t expect to relate to their stories. But as someone with a deep drive to become a doctor and the daughter of immigrant parents who’ve sacrificed so much, I saw reflections of my own journey in theirs-especially the tension between ambition and identity.

I’ve always known I wanted to go into medicine. Growing up as a first-generation student, with parents who never had the chance to go to college, my path has never been just about me. It’s also been about honoring the dreams they put on hold to build a life for me here-they gave me the space to dream of a life bigger than the one they had. I’ve thrown myself into every opportunity I could find-volunteering in a brain imaging lab, helping out in a kindergarten classroom, leading clubs, interning at a summer camp. I do it all not just to “get into a good college,” but because I genuinely care about helping people and being of service. Still, The Dating Game made me pause and ask: What if I burn out before I even get there? What if, in trying to make my family proud, I lose parts of myself along the way?

Zhou’s journey in the film was especially moving. He’s soft-spoken, introverted, and thoughtful-but in the dating camp, he’s pushed to act more assertive and charismatic. Hao encourages him to practice confident body language, memorize pickup lines, and even buy new clothes that match a flashier persona. But the more Zhou tries to be someone else, the more defeated he seems. I found myself thinking: How many times have I done the same thing? Put on the “perfect” version of myself-the hard-working student, the passionate volunteer, the future doctor-even when I was overwhelmed or unsure?

The film also made me think about family, something I often push to the side when focusing on school. Wen, the coach’s wife, gently challenges the performative aspects of the camp. She encourages the men to prioritize emotional maturity and honesty over charm. Her presence was a quiet reminder that real connection, whether romantic or not, starts with authenticity. With everything I juggle-school, leadership, sports, volunteering-I wonder: will I have time to build a relationship? Will I meet someone who understands this life, who sees me, not just what I’ve achieved?

The Dating Game didn’t change my desire to become a doctor, but it did reshape how I think about the path ahead. It reminded me that ambition shouldn’t come at the cost of authenticity. I want to care for others, yes-but I also want to care for myself. I also want to live fully, love deeply, and stay grounded in who I am. My goal hasn’t changed, but my perspective has: I don’t just want to make it-I want to make it whole.

Part of: 2025 Nellie Wong Magic of Movies Essay Contest

A Deep Personal Reflection about the Short Film Why Can’t We Just Be Ghosts?

Why Can’t We Just Be Ghosts? is a short film that had a huge emotional impact on me. It’s a story that follows a ghost who is dealing with sadness and confusion, trying to make sense of life and what it means to exist. The ghost and his friend talk about things like loneliness, identity, and the fear of not knowing who you are. It’s not just a story about ghosts-it’s a story about being human. Watching this film made me feel so many emotions that I didn’t even expect. It felt like I was looking into a mirror and seeing all the thoughts and feelings I usually keep inside.

What I loved most about this film was how deeply I connected to it on a personal level. From the beginning, I felt like the story was speaking directly to me. The main ghost in the film reminded me of myself, thoughtful, sad, and full of questions about life. He didn’t know who he was, and he was afraid of being alone or feeling like he didn’t belong. Those are all things I’ve felt before, and still feel today. Seeing those emotions on screen made me realize that I’m not the only one who struggles with those thoughts.

This film stood out from every other film I’ve seen because of how real it felt. A lot of movies try to cover up pain with humor or happy endings, but this one didn’t. It embraced the sadness and made it feel okay. It showed that you don’t always have to be happy to be alive, you can be confused, sad, and still trying to figure things out, and that’s completely valid. What made it special to me was that it didn’t try to fix the character or give him a simple answer. It just let him feel. And that made me feel like it’s okay to be exactly where I am right now.

There are a lot of experiences in my own life that this film reminded me of. I’ve struggled with mental health, and I’ve had moments where I felt like I didn’t know who I was or what I wanted to become. I’ve felt invisible, like I was drifting through life like a ghost. Sometimes I feel lonely even when I’m surrounded by people. Watching this short film brought those feelings to the surface, but instead of making me feel worse, it made me feel understood. It touched my soul in a way that few things ever have. It even made me cry, not because it was sad, but because it was so true to what I’ve felt for a long time.

The character that I connected with the most was the main ghost. Everything he said, everything he felt, it all just hit me. His sadness, his confusion, his need to feel like he mattered, it all felt like me. It was like someone took all of my hidden emotions and turned them into a story. That connection made me feel less alone. It showed me that there are people out there who understand what it’s like to be lost inside your head.

The biggest lesson I learned from this film is that it’s okay to not be okay. It’s okay to cry, to break down, and to feel lonely sometimes. You don’t need to have everything figured out right now. You just need to believe that one day, things will start to make sense. This film gave me that hope. I will truly never forget this story, because it reminded me that even when I feel invisible, I still matter.

Part of: 2025 Nellie Wong Magic of Movies Essay Contest

Kai slides down the wall onto the sidewalk, closing her eyes tightly, the sound of the glass shattering and ringing. She reaches for a bright weed flourishing in a crack in the gloomy sidewalk. She holds it tightly, not damaging it, and its presence eases her into calm. Kai inhales deeply, clinging to the weed, her head resting in her lap.

Roots That Reach Toward the Sky powerfully affected me with its recurring themes of healing, even when it seems like there is no light at the end of the tunnel. The film shows that despite all the hate and stress in the world, we can still connect with one another- and that through nature, we can find a way forward.

I appreciated the film’s thoughtful use of color, and how plants brought Kai a sense of calm and comfort. After watching the film and meeting the director, Jess X Snow, I was impacted because it gave me a new perspective on how people deal with pain and the hatred that has been especially present since COVID. Jess told me, “The outside world was tinted yellow,” referring to the yellow graffiti, “to represent hostility, and the shop and garden were supposed to give a warm and inviting feel to them.” In further conversation, I learned that Jess painted the mural featured in the film, which added a personal and meaningful touch.

I connected to the film on a personal level. My grandma, who lived in Venezuela, studied plants and traditional medicine. Like Kai, she believed in the healing power of plants-especially pomegranates. I haven’t been able to visit Venezuela, even when she got sick, because of the political situation, and now she has passed. Watching Kai heal from her panic attack through her connection to plants reminded me of my grandma, and how plants were her way of caring for others. Now, in my bedroom, I surround myself with plants to create a calming environment in the wake of the political persecution that many Venezuelan immigrants, like my dad, are facing.

To conclude, this film taught me a lot about myself and reminded me how powerful healing and community can be. I felt connected to the story because my grandma used plants to heal, just like Jess and her mom.

Part of: 2025 Nellie Wong Magic of Movies Essay Contest

Twirling snow falling in flurries,
White blankets covering the hills,
Two tracks side by side left behind,
The wind whipping, numbed to the bone,
Howling heard through the vast distance,
Pitter patter pitter patter,
Paw prints two by two,
In the Norway snow, Big eyes, wagging tails, and happy faces,
Coats covered in snow,
Together one forging through snow,
Rest as one in mini homes.

Atop hill they stand,
Dorms, classrooms, and bathrooms,
Brave few set out to set a new,
One year to change,
Away from judgement and society,
They find a different path.

One girl finds her meaning,
Believing in her own hands,
Through man’s friend,
Taking on challenges heads on,
And learning what real friends are,
And how they treat you.
She found her home here in these mountains,
Finding satisfaction in the mirror.

Another boy comes seeking his place,
Thinking he would find foe and not friend,
Emerging himself through and through,
Not taking any more blows,
He finds his purpose in service.

Lastly comes a boy scared of himself,
Not finding his calling or drive,
He half pursuits and does not follow through,
Feeling untrue,

But he comes back and fights,
Wanting to grow.

Showing real human,
Full of shame and imperfections,
They all work hard,
Surviving the cold,
Surviving challenges,
Surviving emotions,
And are able to emerge better,
Happier.
Different from all it had a true story,
People who had to overcome struggles,
And their flaws.

From time to time,
I used to doubt myself,
Unsure of what I was here for,
I had to rebound,
To branch,
To dare,
Eventually breaking through,
Once shattered glass a mosaic,
Something to be proud of.

Don’t stop at the wall,
Push it down,
Only flowers wilt,
And trees thrive,
And the only way is to fall,
But not too long,
For only the second avails.

Part of: 2025 Nellie Wong Magic of Movies Essay Contest

“The more layers you add to something, the more beautiful it gets.” That is what my dad said as he dipped a candle wick into warm wax. It was a hot summer day, and my dad and I were dipping candles in our garage. It was our tradition. Candles are like a person, each with colorful layers and lessons. It makes them beautiful, and eventually, they will burn out too. It was only six months after my last time making candles with my dad that his candle would burn out. I only got seven years with him, but he made every minute special. He always lived life to its fullest. He taught me to be the brightest version of myself. I felt trapped in the chaos of the world that was moving without him; I didn’t know how to grieve.

The powerful documentary, Folktales, is a film that focuses on the transformation of the mind through the experience of integrating nature into daily routines. Pasivik is a high school made for kids to reimagine the world through the lens of a Stone Age human exploring a life lived simply. One student in the film, Hege, particularly resonated with my perspective of the world. After the recent death of her father, she is struggling to grasp the ever-changing reality of being a teenager.

At Pasivik, Hege chooses to care for the oldest of the sled dogs. To her, the very essence of the dog is a reflection of her grandfather and generations of her heritage that came before her. The relationship provides a safe space for her to feel and heal from the loss of her father. Hege’s solo expedition into the Arctic wilderness is the next layer added to her soul. The solitude challenges her to find the resilience that was always there within her.

Just like my dad, Hege’s father was a nature guy, and being in nature helped both of us feel more connected to them. In the beginning, I didn’t understand how to continue living normally while balancing my fear. I was afraid I would forget my dad. The film Folktales reminded me that there is no road map to grief. Six years later, I am in my garage making candles with new people, adding new layers to my life, remembering the more layers you add, the more beautiful life becomes.