By Celine Fang

Reflections from Philadelphia, America250, Civic Responsibility, and the People Building Human Connection Across America

I left Miami on a 6AM flight to Philadelphia expecting this to be mostly a work trip.

Meetings.
Venue visits.
Relationship building.
Attending the Jack Miller Center summit.
Continuing DOI250AA’s planning around America250.

But somewhere between a late-night airport ride, a community food market at FDR Park, conversations in Chinatown, and educators gathering around the founding principles of America, the trip became something much more personal.

It became a reminder that many of us across the country are searching for the same thing:
meaningful participation,
human connection,
purpose,
and people who genuinely care about building healthier communities and a stronger society.

And perhaps most importantly, it reminded me that we are finding each other.

Too often, we talk about unity while remaining almost entirely within our own circles — our industries, hometown groups, ethnic communities, churches, social networks, or transactional relationships. We feel connected because we are surrounded by familiar people, but real civic unity requires learning how to engage respectfully beyond comfort and familiarity.

America250 creates an opportunity not only to celebrate history, but to practice broader participation with people we may not normally encounter in daily life.

That realization began before I even boarded the plane.

The night before my departure, I had packed everything, cleaned the house, organized my materials, and prepared calmly so I could leave peacefully in the middle of the night. I was fully prepared to take an Uber to the airport if needed.

But my son William insisted on bringing me himself.

He planned to pick me up around 2AM so he could still return home early afterward to sleep before work the next day. When he texted me that he was running late, I did not question him or become upset. I simply accepted it and mentally prepared myself to call an Uber instead.

Yet William still insisted on coming.

During the drive, he explained what happened.

After work and stopping by a friend’s house, he had gone to get gas because he needed fuel before driving me to the airport. At the gas station, he encountered a woman stranded with her autistic adult son in the car beside his.

She was using an old broken-down vehicle for delivery work and survival. She had no credit, no savings, and no access to systems many people take for granted. Instead, she was paying around $35 a day to a private individual renting out old Craigslist cars while also being responsible for repair costs.

She was trapped in a cycle where she needed the car to survive, but the arrangement itself prevented her from ever getting ahead.

William took the initiative to help.

He helped push her car several blocks back to her apartment complex.

That was why he was late.

As he described the woman, her son, and the condition they were living in, I sat quietly reflecting.

At any moment in America, acts of kindness and acts of exploitation are happening side by side.

But something else is also happening too.

When people volunteer, help others, mentor, organize, listen, and participate in civic life, they are not only helping others. They are also building trust. Through trust, relationships form. Through relationships, information flows. Through information, access expands. Through collaboration, communities become stronger and more resilient.

What touched me most afterward was something William said:

“Be a good citizen and let people notice you happened to be Asian, not because you’re Asian that’s why you do something.”

That stayed with me throughout the entire trip.

William also reflected on other moments where he and his friends had stepped forward to help others simply because they saw a need. Sometimes it was helping friends repair cars late into the night, taking someone to the hospital, helping people move to a new city, pooling labor and money together, or emotionally supporting each other through difficult situations.

Growing up, I gave William space to be free spirited, to spend time with friends, and to figure life out together with others instead of constantly controlling every decision. Looking back now, I realize how important that freedom was. Young people naturally learned to support each other through real-life experiences instead of only structured activities.

Those experiences taught them how to build trust, relationships, initiative, and community.

Immigrants often have to learn these skills all over again after arriving in unfamiliar environments. Many leave behind support systems, lifelong friendships, language comfort, and cultural familiarity. Rebuilding trust and community in a new country takes courage, participation, and repeated human interaction.

Sometimes in our communities, we focus so heavily on representation that we unintentionally forget the deeper purpose of participation itself. Being Asian American should not limit us into only helping “our own,” staying within familiar circles, or participating only when identity is centered.

Good citizenship is bigger than visibility.

Real participation means contributing because we care about humanity, responsibility, and society as a whole.

And perhaps that is what America250 can become at its best.

Not simply a birthday celebration.

But a reminder that America is still being shaped every day by ordinary people deciding whether or not to participate meaningfully in one another’s lives.

And slowly, across cities, communities, schools, festivals, conversations, and acts of kindness —

we are finding each other.

Philadelphia and the Feeling of America

Even the shuttle ride from the airport became meaningful.

Within less than a minute of conversation, the driver, Dante, understood what DOI250AA was trying to do by encouraging Asian Americans and immigrants in transition to participate more civically and confidently in American society.

He immediately responded:
“We need that here.”

He reflected that even some lifelong Philadelphia residents pass by Independence Hall without really understanding what it represents. People stop to take pictures because it is famous, but many do not feel personally connected to the meaning behind the place.

That observation stayed with me.

History can easily become scenery if people are never invited into deeper participation.

At FDR Park, I saw another version of participation already happening naturally.

The Asian community market already exists weekly as its own ecosystem, but the involvement of the Pan Asian Association of Greater Philadelphia brought additional energy and visibility. Cultural dances, music, and presentations by community leaders transformed the atmosphere into something even more alive.

Vendors from Cambodian, Thai, Lao, Vietnamese, Indian, South Asian, and Southeast Asian communities sold sticky rice, mango desserts, meat skewers, fried noodles, sugarcane juice, snacks, and drinks. The market felt vibrant, welcoming, and deeply rooted in everyday community life rather than performance alone.

Nearby, underneath highways and overpasses, were graffiti-covered spaces and skate parks where young people gathered around music and skating culture. To outsiders unfamiliar with the area, those spaces might initially feel hidden or unwelcoming.

Yet people were simply gathering.

Laughing.
Skating.
Listening to music.
Sharing food.
Existing together.

Outside the market, African American vendors sold artwork, homemade candles, hair products, and crafts. One African American artist warmly spoke with me and Jeannie Chong about her work mentoring youth around mental health and human connection.

That conversation reminded me that across America, people are quietly and consistently creating spaces where healthier human interaction can happen.

Not through large headlines or national attention alone, but through everyday efforts to bring people together, make others feel welcomed, and encourage stronger community relationships.

Philadelphia began to feel less like a historical destination and more like a living reflection of America itself — layered, imperfect, diverse, sometimes disconnected, yet still full of people trying to build connection, belonging, and meaning in their own ways.

At FDR Park with Roman – Pan Asian Assoc.

The People Carrying the Work Forward

Throughout the trip, I kept noticing how much commitment people are willing to make when they truly believe in building something meaningful.

At the Holiday Inn Philadelphia Arpt-Stadium Area, Ashley, one of the receptionists and an aspiring Asian American leader of Indian origin, noticed that Jeannie and I were wearing platform shoes and carefully gave us directions using a shorter and safer route than the GPS suggested.

Those moments matter.

Civic culture is built not only through speeches or conferences, but through human interactions that make people feel respected, welcomed, and cared for.

Matt Zhang rearranged his schedule, returned early from another trip, postponed meetings, met me at the hotel lobby, brought snacks because he thought I might be hungry from traveling, and delivered business cards we had mailed to his office.

Jeannie Chong traveled from New York while balancing graduate school in mental health counseling and demanding internship work. She had been working in social services, but chose to pause her income and return to school because she wanted to become more competent and better equipped to help others long term.

Jack Hanna drove more than four hours to Philadelphia, self-funded portions of the summit, and carefully scheduled multiple appointments across the city with organizations, venue contacts, and community leaders.

Dr. Xiaoyan Zhang drove seven hours from Pittsburgh simply to support organizers and continue relationships he had already started building months earlier.

Later, Matt walked us through the historic district around Independence Hall, helping us imagine how people from all backgrounds might experience a DOI250AA national gathering there during Labor Day weekend this September.

We met David O, who patiently waited nearly an hour because we became delayed navigating unfamiliar logistics. Although he initially said he only had two minutes available, he stayed nearly another hour thoughtfully discussing ideas, community realities, and possible ways to collaborate with Dr. Zhang.

We also spent time with Steven Zhu, whom many people affectionately regard as an informal “Chinatown mayor.” Even as he steps back from formal leadership roles to make room for younger generations, people still deeply trust and respect him.

That evening, several of us gathered inside the Chinatown office over takeout noodle soups. Steven encouraged other leaders to stay engaged and continue learning about the initiative even if they were still unsure where they fit. The atmosphere did not feel political or performative. It felt like people sincerely trying to understand whether they could contribute meaningfully and responsibly.

Matt later showed us the Museum of the American Revolution, where two oversized sculptures created and donated by our advisor Ellen Zhao hang prominently outside.

When we later visited Ellen at her studio, she welcomed us warmly with coffee, breakfast sandwiches, and donut holes. She introduced us to her friend Tracy, a recognized emcee for major events. Ellen actively searched through her contact list suggesting people we should meet, and she was willing to place her own reputation behind those introductions because she believed in the sincerity of the work.

Toward the end of the trip, Stephanie made time despite her demanding work in social services and community representation to spend an evening with us discussing leadership, community experiences, and ways to continue uplifting people.

What also became meaningful during the trip were the moments in between the meetings.

After two full days of appointments, site visits, community conversations, and the summit, the five of us — Jeannie, Stephanie, Jack, Dr. Zhang, and I — gathered late into the night at the hotel simply to reflect together. We talked past midnight about leadership fatigue, community realities, emotional burdens, hopes for the future, and what kind of environment we truly want DOI250AA to become.

Those conversations were not transactional.

They were honest.

At different points throughout the trip, different combinations of us spent time together continuing those reflections. Jeannie accompanied Jack for nearly an entire day as he attended scheduled meetings across Philadelphia, helping process conversations, offering feedback, and learning more deeply about the vision and responsibilities behind the work.

Stephanie, despite her demanding schedule in social services and community representation, made sure I was not alone before my departure flight. She stayed with me in Chinatown after everyone else had already begun their journeys home. We shared mango desserts, Henan dishes, stories about community experiences, and reflections about what still needs healing and strengthening within our society.

Those moments mattered just as much as the formal meetings.

Because leadership is not only built through operations, titles, or public visibility.

It is also built through trust, reflection, emotional honesty, and people making time to care for one another while carrying difficult responsibilities together.

Dr. Zhang & David O.

Reflection w/ Jack, Jeannie, Dr. Zhang, Celine

The Kind of Leadership That Makes People Feel Seen

Then came the Jack Miller Center summit itself.

What moved me most was not only the content.

It was the culture.

From the moment attendees arrived, the environment felt intentionally designed around respect, attentiveness, and meaningful engagement. Staff members guided attendees between locations, held doors open during sessions, directed people to breakout rooms, and made sure visitors could move comfortably through unfamiliar spaces without confusion or stress.

Museums across the area were made accessible simply by wearing conference badges. JMC used customized text messaging systems to notify attendees about breakout sessions and room locations. Electronic boards displayed dinner seating assignments by attendee names so people could quickly locate their tables without unnecessary delays or crowding.

Even the smallest details reflected thoughtfulness.

Everything felt organized in a way that allowed people to focus on conversations, learning, and human interaction rather than logistics.

But what stood out just as much was what didn’t happen.

The conference sponsors and organizational leaders did not consume valuable event time with endless self-promotion, stage photography, or performative visibility. Sponsors were present, supportive, and engaged, but they did not dominate the atmosphere or interrupt the purpose of the gathering.

Instead, the focus remained on civic participation, thoughtful dialogue, relationship building, and learning.

What struck me most was how attentive people were.

During sessions, attendees were not walking around taking pictures, talking loudly over speakers, or treating the gathering like a social status event. People listened carefully. They stayed engaged. Conversations continued thoughtfully between sessions. There was a maturity and sincerity that reflected the values being discussed on stage.

That level of attentiveness and mutual respect is something rarely seen today.

What stood out deeply to me was Hans Zeiger himself.

We had only met twice briefly on Zoom before this trip. Yet among hundreds of attendees, Hans remembered me immediately.

That may sound like a small detail, but it says something important about leadership.

People feel valued when they feel remembered.

At one point during the conference, there was not even an emcee constantly filling empty air space. Hans simply walked to the podium and began speaking, and within seconds the room became quiet.

Not because people were forced to pay attention.

But because they respected the environment and the purpose of the gathering.

As the summit closed and everyone stood singing “From Sea to Shining Sea,” many people became emotional. Some cried.

I think people became emotional because attendees were not simply celebrating America as an abstract idea. They were reflecting on responsibility, sacrifice, civic participation, and the unfinished work of building a healthier society together.

The song felt less like entertainment and more like a shared moment of reflection about what kind of country people still hope America can become.

I think many people felt something rare there.

Not perfection.

Sincerity.

What also stood out was how openly JMC staff and partners shared information. They had spent over a year organizing their summit, yet they were still willing to offer venue ideas, logistical insights, speaker suggestions, museum contacts, and operational recommendations for our own upcoming DOI250AA gathering in Philadelphia this September.

There was no sense of territorial protection.

They wanted our event to succeed because they genuinely believed more people should participate in civic life.

That mindset itself was one of the strongest lessons of the trip.

Healthy leadership does not shrink when others grow.

It creates more space for meaningful participation.

Jack Hanna, JMC’s Matt

Civic Education: What I Experienced Growing Up

One of the strongest reflections I had during the Jack Miller Center summit was thinking about the difference between civic education in China and in America.

Growing up in China, civic education was heavily emphasized.

Students were taught respect for the country, respect for leaders, contribution to the community, discipline, collective responsibility, and awareness that one’s actions reflected not only on oneself, but also on family, school, city, and nation. Schools and community elders reinforced the idea that individuals carried responsibility toward society.

When I immigrated to America in 1992 and attended junior high and high school here, I learned about democracy, voting systems, the Constitution, and government structures. We learned the basics of local, state, and federal government. We participated in student elections and learned about democratic processes.

But emotionally, I often felt something was missing.

In practice, many school elections felt centered around popularity instead of responsibility or competence. The students who became homecoming kings, queens, or club leaders were often the most socially visible, fashionable, outgoing, or connected — not necessarily the most thoughtful, disciplined, or service-minded.

As a student, I sometimes felt uncomfortable voting because I did not feel informed enough. I did not want to vote irresponsibly simply because everyone else was voting.

That reflection became very important at JMC.

Because what JMC was doing was not simply celebrating history.

They were decoding the meaning behind the words of the Declaration of Independence and the Constitution, helping people understand how those ideas still apply today.

The summit explored phrases like:

“We hold these truths to be self-evident…”

“All men are created equal…”

“…endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights…”

“…Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness…”

The discussions were not shallow or symbolic.

Educators, scholars, foundations, teachers, and civic leaders were actively discussing what these words actually mean in practice, how they evolved over time, and how future generations should understand them responsibly.

One of the most powerful reflections centered around the phrase:

“All men are created equal.”

Even though the document was drafted in a very different historical period, attendees reflected on how the word “all” continues expanding through generations as society grows, learns, and broadens participation.

Another meaningful discussion focused on “the pursuit of happiness.”

JMC emphasized that happiness itself is not guaranteed or handed to people. What is protected is the right to pursue happiness responsibly and freely, so long as others are not harmed.

That distinction matters deeply.

The summit also reinforced something critically important:

Voting is not simply a right.
It is also a responsibility.

People should be educated, informed, thoughtful, and competent enough to vote responsibly. If someone feels they do not yet understand issues well enough, there is no shame in continuing to learn before acting carelessly.

For many immigrants and first-generation Americans, voting can feel intimidating because responsible participation requires understanding systems, history, policies, and consequences beyond slogans, popularity, or emotional reactions.

Civic participation should not pressure people into blind agreement.

It should encourage thoughtful learning, personal responsibility, respectful dialogue, and informed decision-making.

Democracy only functions well when citizens actively seek understanding rather than reacting superficially or impulsively.

What resonated deeply with me at JMC was that civic participation was presented not as blind loyalty or political tribalism, but as informed engagement, responsibility, thoughtful dialogue, and continual learning.

That perspective felt both intellectually serious and deeply human.

It reminded me that a healthy democracy is not sustained simply by voting itself, but by people continuously developing the maturity, knowledge, humility, and civic responsibility needed to participate wisely.

The American People I Met

One of the most meaningful parts of the trip was realizing how many people across America are actively building spaces for civic participation, education, and human connection in their own ways.

I met Maria from Austin, Texas, who shared her experiences growing up in Oahu among deeply integrated cultures and AAPI communities. Her stories reflected what happens when different communities genuinely grow alongside one another instead of simply existing side by side.

I met Allan from the American Jewish Committee, who shared a story about unexpectedly driving four hours with an African American man after a canceled connecting flight. During that drive, they discovered similarities in their family histories, values, and experiences despite coming from very different backgrounds. It was a simple reminder that meaningful conversations often happen when people are willing to step outside their normal circles.

I met Emilee from Jack Miller Center, who remembered my name each time we crossed paths and spoke warmly about her sibling’s mixed-race children growing up in Korea and later adjusting to schools in America.

I met Jane, a second-generation Korean teacher in Philadelphia who deeply understood what it feels like to help immigrant parents navigate American systems while balancing integration, identity, and generational expectations.

I met Cynthia, a retired educator involved in JMC’s teacher programs who also had Japanese ancestry and remained deeply committed to civic education long after retirement.

I met Paul Lim from Gainesville, one of the very few Asian Americans attending the conference, who generously allowed me to photograph his name tag so we could remain connected afterward.

I met Barry, one of the board members, who had lived in New Orleans, China, and Korea. We exchanged stories about places, schools, and cultural experiences we both recognized, reminding me how interconnected people’s journeys can become over time.

I met Ben, who explained how JMC continually evolves its educational work to meet the needs of younger generations rather than simply repeating old approaches.

I met Jonathan and Emily from Washington DC, who use speech and debate programs to help students engage confidently with founding principles while encouraging parents to learn alongside their children.

I met Adam from Arizona, who also shared thoughtful conversations around participation, education, and community building.

I met Professor Lucas Morel, who ran out of business cards during the conference and simply handed Dr. Zhang his own name badge so they could reconnect afterward. That small moment captured the spirit of the gathering — people sincerely trying to connect, share resources, and continue the work beyond the event itself.

Dr. Zhang and I also met Carol from the National Constitution Center, whose smile and sincerity immediately stood out. She thoughtfully walked us through possibilities for our future event, museum access, room availability, schedules, and logistics without pressure or reservation.

I met Cathy Gillespie from A250 after the summit and introduced DOI250AA’s work supporting transitioning immigrants and Asian Americans in civic participation. After only a short conversation, she encouraged us warmly and even suggested I should be speaking on stage.

At one point during the conference, I gave Michael Weiser a long heartfelt hug because I was grateful he helped connect Dr. Zhang and me to JMC in the first place after first meeting at a Miami-Dade America250 advisory meeting.

What stood out across all of these conversations was not status, titles, or visibility.

It was sincerity.

I mention these conversations around Asian American, immigrant, Jewish American, mixed-race, and multicultural experiences because this is what community and unity actually look like.

Not slogans.

Not surface-level diversity photos.

But people sincerely listening to one another’s experiences, learning from different perspectives, and recognizing shared humanity.

These are the relationships that grow when people show up, volunteer, participate, and contribute sincerely.

And in many ways, that may be one of the most important parts of America250 — not simply remembering history, but creating more opportunities for people who might never otherwise meet to learn from one another and begin building trust together.

Cathy from A250

America Is Being Built Through Human Connection

One of the strongest realizations from this trip is that many people across America are already building spaces for human connection in their own ways.

Some are doing it through festivals.

Some through museums.

Some through dialogue.

Some through education.

Some through food, art, storytelling, leadership programs, or civic conversations.

Some simply by making people feel welcomed in spaces where they previously felt uncertain or unseen.

In Miami, the Asian Culture Festival continues creating gathering spaces where thousands of people from different backgrounds come together through culture, food, performances, and shared experiences.

In Utah, Asian Fest creates visibility, participation, and belonging for communities that are often overlooked nationally.

In San Francisco, Awaken Inner Voices hosted American Moment conversations that encourage thoughtful civic and cultural dialogue across backgrounds and generations.

In Nevada, programs around Chinese Americans in the building of America help people recognize that Asian Americans were never separate from the American story — they were always part of building it.

Across the official America250 calendar, there are countless events where educators, artists, organizers, museums, civic leaders, cultural groups, and everyday community members are creating opportunities for participation, learning, leadership, and connection.

Many of our DOI250AA team members are already carrying this work forward in their own communities — sometimes independently, sometimes collaboratively — creating opportunities for people to gather, reflect, share stories, build confidence, and feel connected to something larger than themselves.

This movement is not built by one person.

It is built by many people deciding to participate.

Too often, we talk about unity while staying almost entirely within our own circles — our industries, hometown groups, ethnic communities, churches, social networks, or transactional relationships. We feel connected because we are surrounded by familiar people, but real civic unity requires learning how to engage respectfully beyond comfort and familiarity.

America250 creates an opportunity not only to celebrate history, but to practice broader participation with people we may not normally encounter in daily life.

That may be one of the most important opportunities of this moment.

Not simply to say “Happy Birthday America,” but to reflect on how we continue building the country together moving forward.

Because America is not only built through laws, speeches, institutions, or historical milestones.

It is also built through relationships.

Through trust.

Through participation.

Through people deciding to show up for one another beyond their immediate circles.

And this September during Labor Day weekend, DOI250AA hopes to continue building that space for connection through our upcoming national gathering in Philadelphia.

We invite community members, civic leaders, educators, artists, students, immigrants, families, and organizations from across the country to participate as stakeholders in shaping what America’s next chapter can become together.

Not as spectators standing outside the story.

But as people helping write it forward together.

To the Leaders Looking for Community

I know many aspiring Asian American leaders feel lonely.

Some feel unseen.

Some hesitate because they are unsure whether they belong in civic spaces.

Some are exhausted from constantly bridging cultures, generations, expectations, and identities.

Some quietly wonder if anyone else cares the way they do.

This trip reminded me that there are many others searching for the same thing:
meaningful participation,
genuine collaboration,
human connection,
and a healthier way forward.

Throughout Philadelphia and the Jack Miller Center summit, many of us realized we were no longer wondering whether we were alone in caring about this kind of work. We found educators, organizers, artists, civic leaders, volunteers, and community builders across the country carrying similar hopes in their own ways.

Some were building through education.

Some through civic dialogue.

Some through cultural programs.

Some through mentoring young people.

Some through museums, storytelling, festivals, leadership development, or simply creating spaces where people feel welcomed and respected.

That realization matters.

Because many people doing community work quietly carry emotional fatigue while continuing to organize, mentor, volunteer, solve problems, and hold communities together.

This trip reminded me that there are far more people trying to build thoughtful, compassionate, and connected communities than we sometimes realize.

You do not need perfect English, perfect credentials, perfect confidence, or perfect visibility to begin contributing.

America is shaped every day by ordinary people deciding whether or not to participate meaningfully in one another’s lives.

For many Asian Americans, especially immigrants and first-generation families, participation can feel uncertain. Some were taught to work hard quietly, avoid conflict, stay within familiar circles, or focus only on personal and family stability. Others may want to contribute but hesitate because they are unsure whether their experiences or perspectives belong in broader civic conversations.

But America250 creates an opportunity not only to celebrate history, but to recognize that we are also part of shaping what comes next.

Not as spectators standing outside the story.

But as stakeholders helping build it.

And perhaps the most meaningful realization I carried home from Philadelphia was this:

There are many people across America trying to build healthier communities, more thoughtful participation, and stronger human connection.

We simply have to keep finding each other.

An Invitation

Philadelphia reminded me that civic participation is not only about politics, speeches, or national celebrations.

It is also about people making the choice to care beyond themselves.

Throughout this trip, I saw individuals from very different backgrounds creating space for others to participate, connect, learn, and feel welcomed. I saw organizers opening doors for collaboration instead of protecting status. I saw educators helping others better understand the country’s founding principles and civic responsibilities. I saw artists, community leaders, volunteers, museum staff, and cultural organizers contributing in ways both visible and invisible.

Asian Americans should not participate in America250 only as performers, vendors, sponsors, or spectators standing on the edges of the national story.

We must participate as stakeholders.

That means understanding the country more deeply, contributing to its future, building relationships beyond our own circles, sharing our stories honestly, helping others feel they belong too, and continuing to create spaces where people can gather, reflect, and grow together.

If these reflections resonate with you, we invite you to continue the journey with us.

Visit DOI250AA.
Explore America250 events happening across the country.
Attend gatherings.
Share your voice.
Fill out our community survey.

As part of the process, you can also receive our Awakening booklet — a reflection resource created to encourage deeper thinking around leadership, participation, identity, emotional awareness, and meaningful contribution.

We are finding each other.

And together, we are helping shape what comes next.

Perhaps the future of America will not be shaped only by those with the loudest voices, but by ordinary people across different communities learning how to trust, participate, listen, and build together again.