Letter to Angela Duckworth

Dear Dr. Duckworth,

If you ever choose to write a sequel to Grit, I have the perfect subject for you.

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 here, we had a short reunion. He told me his journey, and I haven’t stopped thinking about it since.

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 met in real life. For six 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. His family called him home. A stable job waited in Vietnam, protected by a supportive boss. But he refused to let go of the potential he held in Cleveland. He was so close. He couldn’t give up now.

You define grit as passion plus perseverance. But he showed me a third ingredient: the willingness to keep going despite 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 years of nothing, his breakthrough came as he was walking across a parking garage. He 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. The paper was published, and the awards followed.

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.

If I could have a hand in writing this chapter, I’d name it “Six Years in Bloom.”

Yours,

A student still waiting for her parking garage moment

*name altered to protect privacy