1. Introduction
In Hong Kong, I spent my first Laidlaw summer in a quiet clinical setting: preparing therapy materials, speaking with people with aphasia, and thinking carefully about how the brain supports language. A year later, I found myself on another island, Chios, Greece, sorting donated clothes and hygiene items while communicating through gestures, smiles, and the occasional shared English word in a bustling refugee camp.
At first glance, these experiences on two very different islands seemed unrelated. One involved neurostimulation and speech therapy, and the other involved frontline humanitarian volunteering. Yet, looking back on my two year Laidlaw journey, they taught me the same lesson. True leadership begins with noticing the individual in front of you.
2. Finding a Way Back to Words (Research)
During my first summer, I was driven by a curious mindset to conduct research on whether transcranial alternating current stimulation (tACS), combined with speech therapy, could support Cantonese-speaking people with post-stroke aphasia.
Aphasia is a language disorder that often occurs after a stroke. For many, one of the most frustrating challenges is anomia, which is knowing exactly what they want to say but being unable to retrieve the word. My project explored whether an innovative form of non-invasive brain stimulation could help give people their voice back.
When our team analysed the data, we found preliminary evidence that the Individualised-Connectomic (IC) tACS approach showed the strongest evidence for improvement in language recovery. Unlike a generalised protocol, this individualised approach was tailored specifically to each participant’s unique brain network profile.
However, the most meaningful lesson for me did not come from a data table, it came from the human beings behind the data.
Although all 10 participants shared an aphasia diagnosis, they were incredibly diverse in age, personality, language strengths, and personal interests. I learned to adapt our therapy materials accordingly, from practising the names of Dim Sum dishes to using pictures of the Eiffel Tower. These small, tailored choices made the sessions feel less like a clinical exercise and more like a genuine connection. I realised then that personalised care isn't just a scientific principle; it is a leadership principle. People engage more fully when they feel seen as individuals.
3. When Gestures Became a Shared Language (My LiA project)
For my Leadership in Action (LiA) project, I had to be "Brave" and step far outside my comfort zone. I travelled to Chios to volunteer with Offene Arme (OA), an NGO supporting asylum seekers and refugees through a free shop that allows people to choose the clothing and hygiene items they need, preserving their dignity and autonomy.
I entered the experience with three languages (Cantonese, Mandarin, and English), but quickly learned I cannot achieve communication by using the languages I speak. Chios receives people from many places. In 2026, the largest groups arriving in Greece by sea included people from Bangladesh, Sudan, Afghanistan, Egypt, Yemen, Somalia, and South Sudan. Ummm… I spoke none of these languages. While Arabic and Bengali were common in some interactions, the lived experiences and languages varied greatly.
So, we adapted.
We relied on hand gestures, facial expressions, translation apps, and a great deal of patience. Sometimes, communication was unexpectedly funny. For example, a funny story was that one of my colleagues spent half an hour using charades to explain that sunscreen was not deodorant and should not be applied under one’s armpits! At other times, it was a rigorous team effort, with us running back and forth between the shop and the warehouse to find the exact style or size of clothing a person wanted.
One moment has stayed with me especially. A young man who spoke some English finished choosing his items, but instead of leaving, he stayed behind in the shop to help translate for others. It was a quiet, beautiful act of generosity. In that moment, I was reminded of the Laidlaw value of being "Good": assuming good intent, emphasizing mutual respect, and recognizing that support is a collaborative effort. People seeking asylum are not just passive recipients of aid, they support one another and create connection in the most difficult circumstances.
4. Redefining Leadership: Rejecting the "Cookie-Cutter"
My research and my time in Chios reshaped my understanding of leadership in the different but similars way.
In the lab, I learned that neural recovery cannot be approached through a single, universal protocol. In Chios, I learned that humanitarian support cannot treat displaced individuals as one anonymous crowd. Behind every request for a baby blanket or a pair of shoes is a human being with specific needs, preferences, and dignity.
To borrow from the Laidlaw Foundation’s core values, true leadership is "Extra-ordinary". From my understanding, it is because it refuses to settle for ‘cookie-cutter’ solutions. It celebrates differences. I now understand that leadership isn't about being the loudest or the smartest person in the room or having all the answers. It is about adaptability, humility, and individualised empathy. It is the ability to read the room, whether that room is a speech therapy clinic or a free shop for people in need, and adjust your approach to serve the person standing right in front of you.
5. Carrying the Lesson Forward
As I begin my fourth year at university, I will be moving into new clinical environments, transitioning from working with children to supporting adults with communication and swallowing needs. Their experiences and goals will be entirely different from my previous patients.
I am still unsure exactly where my future will take me, and I do not yet have every answer about my long-term career. But this two year Laidlaw journey has made me more confident in navigating the unfamiliar.
From a Cantonese speech therapy session in Hong Kong to a free shop on a Greek island, I have learned that human connection does not always begin with fluent language. Sometimes, it begins with a picture card, a hand gesture, a carefully chosen therapy item, or simply looking at someone and asking:
What do you need?
That is the kind of leadership I hope to continue practising beyond words.