At 糖心原创, learning goes far beyond the classroom. It’s designed to help students develop the knowledge, empathy, and global perspective they need to thrive in an increasingly connected world. In Georgia Bickel鈥檚 Modern Journalism class in Upper School, a recent assignment brought that mission to life through powerful storytelling 鈥� and a meaningful cross-cultural collaboration. As part of the Journalistic Narrative Project, students were asked to explore a driving question:
What is it like to be a high school student in 2024?
While that question may seem straightforward, the goal was far more ambitious: to encourage students to consider how context, culture, and perspective shape the student experience 鈥� and to express that story in a voice that鈥檚 honest, thoughtful, and their own.
For 糖心原创 senior Cara Phan, who was born in Vietnam and attended preschool there, that meant teaming up with Anh Dang, one of four visiting seniors from , who shares a dynamic and purposeful partnership with 糖心原创. Their collaboration offers more than a comparison of two education systems; it embodies the kind of global empathy, curiosity, and understanding that 糖心原创 strives to nurture in every learner.
Their story, Same Planet, Different Schools, was first published in December 2024 in the Mustang Memo 鈥� 糖心原创鈥檚 digital newspaper created entirely by students for students. Written, formatted, and edited by the Mustang Memo Club, the publication is released three times a year and covers Arts, Athletics, Academics, Current Events, and Pop Culture.
Purposeful Learning, Global & Cultural Proficiency
The Journalistic Narrative Project is a clear example of how 糖心原创鈥檚 mission comes to life 鈥� expanding not just individual worldviews but our community鈥檚 collective perspective through real-world learning.
Same Planet, Different Schools
We are seniors navigating two worlds, one classroom at a time.
By Cara Phan and Anh Dang
In Vietnam, we have something called sao 膽峄� 鈥� 鈥渞ed stars鈥� who are basically student hall monitors on steroids. These kids, clipboard in hand, march into classrooms like mini-dictators, hunting for offenses like untucked shirts or a rogue candy wrapper on the floor. One mistake and your entire class loses points. It鈥檚 equal parts stress and spectacle, like living in an endless competition where the stakes are spotless floors and perfectly tucked uniforms.
“Stepping into a U.S. high school felt like entering uncharted territory 鈥� a place where there are no sao 膽峄� lurking in the hallways, but nonetheless plenty of other quirks to navigate.”
While Cara has been in the U.S. long enough to know how to pronounce 鈥減ep rally鈥� without pausing, I鈥檓 still the newbie, fresh off the plane and constantly in awe of the differences. Together, we鈥檝e noticed just how much culture and education intersect, from how students move between classes to what is served (or not served) at lunch.
In Vietnam, school is highly structured. You stay with one homeroom class all day, and the teachers come to you. There鈥檚 no shuffling between rooms, no comparing schedules, and no figuring out which way to turn when the halls split into confusing directions. But here? Students practically live out of their backpacks, darting between rooms like contestants in a scavenger hunt.
One of the first things that caught me off guard was how classes here aren鈥檛 strictly divided by age. Back in Vietnam, if you鈥檙e 16, you鈥檙e in 11th grade, no exceptions. But here, I鈥檝e been in classes with freshmen, sophomores, and other seniors like me. It鈥檚 a little jarring to work on a group project and realize your partner wasn鈥檛 even in middle school when Frozen came out.
Then there鈥檚 the freedom to choose your classes. In Vietnam, your schedule is set in stone 鈥� math, science, literature, rinse, repeat. Specialized classes like theatre or pottery are practically unheard of. Here, you can take something like film studies or digital art, and no one bats an eye.
Cara personally loves how casual relationships with teachers are in the U.S. They鈥檙e like your friends here! You can crack a joke, and they鈥檒l laugh instead of giving you the 鈥測ou鈥檙e being disrespectful鈥� look. In Vietnam, the teacher-student relationship is much more formal. You wouldn鈥檛 dream of addressing your teacher without using a title, and the idea of them laughing at one of your jokes? Unimaginable.
“Vietnamese schools taught us discipline and structure; the U.S. has given us freedom and opportunities to explore our interests.”
Lunch is another thing we鈥檝e talked about at length. In Vietnam, school lunches are carefully planned, often featuring rice, vegetables, and some sort of protein. Here, lunch feels鈥� optional. Pizza, fries, and mystery meat seem to dominate the menu. Cara joked that the salad bar at her previous public school looks like an afterthought, as if someone said, 鈥淥h yeah, we should probably include vegetables.鈥�
Transportation is also wildly different. In the U.S., school buses are everywhere. If you live far from school, there鈥檚 probably a big yellow bus with a huge stop sign ready to pick you up every morning. In Vietnam, public schools don鈥檛 typically provide transportation, so students either bike, walk, or get dropped off by parents. The lucky ones ride on the back of a motorbike, weaving through morning traffic like a scene from an action movie.
Of course, we can鈥檛 forget sports. Competitive sports are a massive part of American high school culture. Entire towns come together for football games, and student-athletes can even get scouted for college scholarships. In Vietnam, sports exist, but they鈥檙e not nearly as central to school life. Sports scholarships? Good joke. Academics is the utmost priority back home 鈥� often to an extreme.
This brings us to perhaps the most significant difference: the emphasis on grades. In Vietnam, grades are everything. They reflect not just your understanding of a subject but your worth as a student 鈥� and sometimes, sadly, as a person. The grading system is simple: scores from 1 to 10, with national exams determining your future. No personal essays, portfolios, or extracurricular achievements factored in.
In the U.S., grades still matter, but there鈥檚 more balance. Teachers consider effort, creativity, and participation. Parents seem more focused on well-being and growth. My dad, like many Vietnamese parents, initially struggled with the more relaxed approach. They鈥檇 see an 85 and ask, 鈥淲hy not 100?鈥� But over time, my family has learned to value growth beyond the numbers.
“School is never just about academics. It鈥檚 about the people, the culture, and the little moments that make each day unique.”
For both of us, being international students has been a journey of constant adaptation. We鈥檝e learned to laugh at the absurdities 鈥� like still figuring out what a pep rally actually involves 鈥� and appreciate the strengths of each system. Vietnamese schools taught us discipline and structure; the U.S. has given us freedom and opportunities to explore our interests.
There鈥檚 one thing we鈥檝e realized through this project: school is never just about academics. It鈥檚 about the people, the culture, and the little moments that make each day unique. Whether it鈥檚 a sao 膽峄� deducting points for an unironed shirt or a teacher joining you for a round of Fortnite, these experiences shape us in ways we never expected.
Now, if someone could just explain to me why football is played with hands and not feet, I think I鈥檇 finally have this American school thing figured out.
The story above offers all of us a reminder: learning is not just about mastering academics but about the small moments 鈥� a conversation, a new perspective, a step into the unfamiliar 鈥� that shape who we become.
As 糖心原创鈥檚 global footprint grows, so does our opportunity 鈥� to listen deeply, think expansively, and lead with understanding. Through experiences like this, we are learning not just to tell stories but to build bridges between countries, cultures, and communities.
This is what it means to be truly globally competitive.