Letter to Angela Duckworth

Dear Dr. Duckworth,

If you ever choose to write a sequel to Grit, I have in mind the story of someone who embodies grit perfectly.

Every spring, the cherry blossoms in D.C. last for two weeks. Dr. Nguyen*, my ISEF judge, drove from Cleveland, Ohio, just to see them. While he was in here, we had a short reunion, and he told me his journey.

His willingness to travel far for something brief and unrepeatable is, I think, the story of his life. He is a cancer immunology researcher, a pioneer in his field, and the most vivid proof of your thesis I have ever met in real life. For four years, everything in Dr. Nguyen’s life told him to turn around. He had no discovery. No paper. No conference invitations. One by one, his labmates left, discouraged. His family called him to return home. A stable job waited in Vietnam, protected by a supportive boss. But he refused to let go of the potential he held here in Cleveland. He was so close. He couldn’t give up now.

For him, grit was passion plus perseverance in the presence of every reasonable reason to stop. Gritty people hear these reasons fully and choose to strengthen the vector anyway (read my previous post for context).

After six long years, he eventually cracked the problem, walking across a parking garage, and texted his PI: I found the solution. I’m going to test it whether you like it or not. That night at 1am, the results came in. He cried at his desk. Soon, the paper was published in a high-impact journal, and the awards started coming.

He also plays Chopin. He started at eighteen because he wanted to speak the language of music.

Just do what you want to do, he told me. It has to come from within.

The blossoms were beautiful. Entirely worth the drive.

— A student who is still waiting for her parking garage moment

*name altered to protect privacy