I woke up at 4:25 a.m. without an alarm.
That kind of waking up only happens on days that matter.
The room was quiet. The city hadn’t started yet. My body felt rested, steady, almost excited. I remember lying there for a few seconds, breathing, feeling the weight and the beauty of the day ahead.
It was the first day of UWC Selection Day.
Months of work. Years of memories. A whole lifetime folded into one long day.
And somehow, my body already knew.
Designing a Doorway Months Before Anyone Walked Through It
We started designing the application back in July 2025.
At that time, Selection Day felt distant. Just a future marker on the calendar. But even then, we treated the application like a doorway. Because for some students, this form would be the first time they ever dared to imagine a different future.
We asked ourselves hard questions.
How do we design questions that are fair?
How do we allow space for students who are not trained writers?
How do we hear potential, not polish?
The application launched in August 2025.
The deadline closed at the end of October 2025.
And then came the quiet, heavy work.
Reading Hundreds of Lives, One Story at a Time
After the deadline, we gave ourselves time.
A month.
Judges. Alumni. Volunteers. Many of us reading together, reading alone, reading late at night after long workdays. Hundreds of applications. Hundreds of young people trusting us with their stories.
Some wrote about hardship.
Some wrote about curiosity.
Some wrote awkwardly, imperfectly, honestly.
What struck me most was this, every student was trying to make sense of the world, and their place in it.
From that pool, we selected 80 students for the next round, online interviews with alumni of the UWC system.
Then, after those conversations, 40 students were invited to the final selection round.
By the time the list was finalized, I felt both exhausted and deeply grateful.
Because this process is never about numbers.
It is about responsibility.
The Night Before, Going to Bed With a Full Heart
The night before Selection Day, I went to bed early.
Around 10:00 p.m., which is early even by my standards.
I remember lying there, feeling calm. No anxiety. No racing thoughts. Just a sense of quiet readiness.
And then, without any alarm, my body woke me at 4:25 a.m.
That felt like a gift.
Starting the Day With Movement and Familiar Ground
Before stepping into responsibility, I always return to something familiar.
Training.
That morning, I was supposed to run for two hours.
At 5:15 a.m., I showed up at Sala, the place where I usually run with friends. I warmed up slowly. Let my body ease into motion.
At 5:30 a.m., I started running.
The sky was still soft and dim. The city was waking up slowly. My legs felt steady. My mind quiet.
I completed one and a half hours of running, finishing around 7:00 a.m. Not the full two hours, but enough.
I sent the data to my coach so he could review it later in the day.
That simple act grounded me.
Movement always brings me back to myself.
Walking Into the Room and Meeting My Younger Self
When I arrived at the selection venue and walked into the room, something shifted inside me.
There were 40 students sitting there.
Forty beautiful faces.
Nervous. Curious. Trying to read the room. Trying to read themselves.
And suddenly, I wasn’t just the Chair of the Selection Committee.
I was 17-year-old Sunny again.
I remembered learning about UWC for the first time.
I remembered making it to the final round.
I remembered the feeling of sitting in a room full of strangers who would later become family.
That moment hit me harder than I expected.
I felt incredibly grateful. And incredibly responsible.
Seeing the People Who Hold This Work Together
As I looked around the room, I saw people who have quietly held this process together for years.
I saw Khoa.
A good friend now. A doctor. Someone who has volunteered for five years straight. He never attended a UWC school himself, but deeply believes in the mission.
Despite hospital shifts. Despite family responsibilities. Despite a busy life.
He keeps showing up.
That kind of commitment is rare. And deeply moving.
Then there was Tung.
A well-known voice among young people in Vietnam. A long-time writer with a large readership. Now working in a big tech education startup.
Last year, he facilitated activities. This year, he was back again, present, curious, generous with his energy.
Seeing him in the selection room reminded me that influence doesn’t always come from titles. It comes from care.
Familiar Faces and Long-Term Commitment
I also saw Chit, someone I love and admire deeply.
She has been part of the selection committee on and off for six or seven years.
Like me, she attended Pearson College. After that, she studied psychology at the University of Cambridge. She returned to Vietnam and started building her career in HR, navigating her future here with intention.
Her presence felt grounding.
People like her are the reason institutional memory exists. They carry the values forward quietly, year after year.
Volunteers Who Once Sat in These Same Chairs
One of the most beautiful parts of the day was the volunteers.
They were finalists from last year. From two years ago.
Young people who once sat in these exact chairs, feeling the same nerves, the same hope.
Some of them were not ultimately selected to attend UWC.
And yet, here they were.
Supporting the candidates with care. Making sure they felt welcomed. Seen. Connected.
They understood these students because they had been them.
Watching that made me incredibly emotional.
Because it reminded me that UWC is not only about who gets selected. It is about what stays with you, regardless of the outcome.
Friendship. Confidence. Values. A sense of belonging.
Why This Work Is a Labor of Love
This work takes time.
A lot of time.
It takes emotional energy. Thought. Care. Long meetings. Difficult decisions.
And yet, I never question why I do it.
Without United World Colleges, I would not be where I am today.
UWC taught me to appreciate differences.
To be aware of global events.
To listen deeply.
To see education as a responsibility, not just a privilege.
Giving back is not something I do out of obligation.
I do it because it feels necessary.
A Day Designed to Reflect UWC Values
The program itself was thoughtfully designed by Min, our program director.
She has worked in youth development for many years, previously at AIESEC, and has designed similar programs for over seven years.
After the opening ceremony, the students moved through a series of activities:
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Guided introductions to help them feel safe and seen
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Exercises about how they connect to the world
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Group discussions and reflections
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Creative personal challenges
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Learning about the UN Sustainable Development Goals
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Choosing a goal and discussing how to tackle it collectively
These weren’t abstract lessons.
They were lived experiences.
Students learned about current global issues while learning about themselves and each other.
This is UWC education in action.
Learning Through Engagement, Not Perfection
What I loved most was watching the students navigate difference.
Different opinions. Different communication styles. Different backgrounds.
They learned to speak. To listen. To adjust.
They learned that understanding the world means engaging with people who are not like you.
That was how I was educated at UWC.
And seeing it come alive again, in this room, years later, filled me with quiet joy.
Quiet Guidance From Those Who Came Before
Toward the end of the day, Cat stopped by.
She is someone I deeply respect.
She attended UWC Costa Rica. Went on to MIT on a full scholarship. Founded companies. And is now studying longevity.
Even though she is not actively involved in selection anymore, she continues to support the community.
I often go to her for advice in my role as Chair.
Her presence that day felt like a reminder that leadership is never meant to be carried alone.
Ending the Day, Tired and Full at the Same Time
The day officially ended at 5:30 p.m.
From 4:25 a.m. to late afternoon, it had been long. Demanding. Meaningful.
On the Grab ride home, the sky turned pink. Birds gathered on trees. The city slowed.
I put on music I love.
And I felt it.
Happiness. Pride. Gratitude.
Not loud. Not dramatic.
Just quiet and deep.