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USA250 Journal Project
Personal Chronicle: July 4, 2025 – July 5, 2026
A gift for reflection. A record of now. A story for what’s next.
USA250 Journal Project
Personal Chronicle: July 4, 2025 – July 5, 2026
A gift for reflection. A record of now. A story for what’s next.
✍️ Rosa Lan Nguyen – “Who am I?”
I am Rosa Lan Nguyen.
Daughter of refugees. Architect of encrypted systems. New mother. Silent accomplice. Reluctant poet.
I’ve written code that guards power, even when I told myself it only protected people. I told myself the backend was neutral. That the backdoors weren’t mine. That silence was professionalism. That precision was safety.
But now I hold Ember.
And every lie I whispered to myself about safety collapses when I look into her face.
Who am I? I am the quietest part of a scream. The function that runs quietly in the background. The one who knew—and still signed off.
I document vulnerabilities for a living. And now, I am one.
I once believed freedom was something we designed. Now I wonder if it’s something we lose one choice at a time.
But I also know this:
Love is a kind of code too. And Ember… she is rewriting mine from scratch.
✍️ “How did I get here?”
I got here by following every rule they gave me.
I learned English fast, got perfect grades, never got caught hacking the school network, and never once let my mother know how often I stayed up late staring at code like it was scripture.
I got into Stanford. Got recruited. Got a badge, a salary, a seat at the table. Learned how to make the tools that keep people out, keep data safe, keep nations “secure.” I told myself I was just a small part of the system. Just backend support.
My mother came here by boat. I came here by degree.
She cleaned nail salons until her back gave out. I wrote scripts that would quietly sweep whole conversations out of sight.
We both went quiet in our own ways.
Then came Ember.
Now, there’s a bassinet under my desk. A firewall on the baby monitor. A bottle next to a flash drive.
Now, I wake up to whimpers and wonder what code I’ve helped install into this world she’ll inherit.
I got here because I believed the lie that smart was enough. That safety and silence were the same thing.
Life has taught me this:
That silence is a system, too.
That you can be the lock and the one trapped behind it.
And that when your daughter’s name shows up flagged in a government database, the line between backend and front line disappears.
Family
Lena Torres – Partner.
Ember Nguyen-Torres – Daughter.
Mai Nguyen – Mother.
