When I received the email from my counselor titled “2023 American Legion’s Tar Heel Boys State,” my attention was immediately drawn to the last line: “Notable program alumni include Michael Jordan, Neil Armstrong, John Bon Jovi, Bill Clinton, and more.” It appeared fun and straightforward: a week-long democracy simulation where participants build a mock government through conventions, debates, and elections.
Growing up in the liberal metropolis of Chapel Hill, I had become accustomed to a closed system of affluence and academics. However, upon my arrival at Boys State, I quickly realized that things were vastly different. Although the American Legion is legally defined as non-partisan, the program exhibited clear political inclinations. I found myself among 250 delegates from all corners of North Carolina, many representing perspectives I had learned to ignore.
As a person of Vietnamese and Taiwanese heritage, my stomach turned during assemblies when Legionnaires proudly told graphic Vietnam War stories and referred to COVID as the “China Virus.” While enduring mandatory flag etiquette sessions and morning prayers, it became clear that my experience would not resemble the Boys State documentary I’d watched on Apple TV.
To make matters worse, I couldn’t simply dismiss my peers as simpletons, because they were extremely smart. The saying goes, “If you’re the smartest person in the room, then you’re in the wrong room,” but I definitely wished I was the smartest there. Competing against such a motivated crowd while authentically representing myself seemed daunting. I honestly considered giving up after the first day but decided to give it one more shot after a glorious six hours of sleep (our schedule ran from 6:00 a.m. to 11:30 p.m.).
The next morning, I awoke to the sound of my roommate’s Appalachian drawl. Apparently, he had no qualms about taking a phone call in our room while I was still asleep. Nice! I slowly rose from the stiff dorm mattress, rubbed the sleep from my eyes, and resolved to make the most of the day.
During our party convention, I eased my way into conversations, forming connections and humanizing the perspectives I had previously wanted nothing to do with. It turned out that the other participants were more open-minded than I had initially anticipated, and my connections led to a selection as Party Platform Chair. In that role, I found consensus within contentious issues by identifying shared goals and addressing disagreements civilly. This approach facilitated conclusive stances on hot-button issues like abortion, where I reached a consensus protecting women’s rights while upholding restrictions on late-term cases.
After that point, things really started to come together. After much mediation, our platform was eventually ratified, and my efforts led to a senatorial party nomination. From there, I won the general election by a narrow margin and had an absolute blast in the Senate, utilizing the same collaborative approach.
While I co-authored three successful bipartisan bills during my tenure, our most memorable policy was not one I had written. Our president-elect was a particularly head-strong, bossy fellow, so the other senators decided to pass a bill mandating that as head of Boys State government, he must “uphold the physical preparedness essential for effective leadership by personally undertaking all household duties, including but not limited to, dishwashing, lawn maintenance, and garbage disposal.”
As the program came to an end, I found myself grateful for the challenging circumstances that had facilitated my personal growth. Prioritizing compromise enabled me to achieve more than I could have ever imagined, and I had a ton of fun in the process, learning to laugh alongside individuals with dissimilar viewpoints.
