I could come back to Walt Disney a hundred times — but never again like this. 

Not with these people. Not at this time in my life.

It’s really hard to put into words how awesome this field study was. I laughed, I learned, I cried (tears of joy).

I had great moments, whether it was trying to get James to quit his Clash Royale addiction while in line for the Na’vi River Journey or singing Hey There Delilah 6 times to annoy Adam.

We began Change Makers on April 14th, 2025. On May 2nd, 2025, 41 of us arrived at YVR at 4 o’clock in the morning (I got there at 3 of course), and left Canada for a 9 day field study inside of Walt Disney World.

On our trip, we were focusing on how creativity, collaboration, technology, influence, and design create experiences that change how we see and engage with the world — compiling our knowledge into one documentary.

But what happened in Disney wasn’t just a school trip for me. It was the first time I ever felt homesick for a place I wasn’t from. 

And maybe more than that — it was the first time a group of people felt like home.

Before Disney, home was Deep Cove — home was the systems built around my existence there. Routines grounded me in comfort and familiarity. 

This trip redefined my idea of “home” — maybe it’s not a specific place, or specific routines — maybe it’s the people.

While everything around me felt so alive, redefining home wasn’t the only thing that changed for me.

Leading up to our trip, we focused on getting to know our documentary — we shaped our individual focuses — which would act as our guiding light in Walt Disney World. 

Everything we would research, film, and say would be grounded in that vision:

By studying how Disney blends storytelling, technology, and operations into a seamless experience, I’m exploring how early-stage founders can intentionally design environments that spark innovation — not just through tech, but through culture, collaboration, and space. How do we build the systems and surroundings where creativity naturally thrives?

As someone who is always in pursuit of finding unique angles — and telling powerful stories in ways others may not immediately see, I was very happy with my vision for my documentary.

But as soon as we started, as soon as I experienced the magic — as I grew, my vision grew.

Here’s the thing: I didn’t know what it was becoming.

The creation of my documentary centred around more uncertainty than I’d like to admit. I vaguely knew what I wanted to say, and where I wanted to say it before I left.

That was it.

I’d wake up at 5am, uncertain as heck, writing headshot scripts with no idea if they were building toward anything meaningful.

I’d find some random spot of the park, mic up, record — and hope the words would come together in the end.

The most consistent part of the process was how unsure I felt doing it.

What if none of this works?

What if I’ve already missed the point?

To be honest, I got lucky.

The messy, blurry thing I’d been filming wasn’t the failure I thought it was — it was the story.

It wasn’t polished. It wasn’t perfect. But it was honest.

It was about being inside the creative process — unsure, scrappy, and still showing up.

I loved the thing I made. Not because it was perfect.

But because it was mine.

Though honestly, even saying that doesn’t feel fully true. I still struggle with taking ownership over what is and isn’t mine, mostly because of how much I leaned on AI.

I used AI for almost all of the scriptwriting — definitely more than I should have — I even used it for parts of this blog post.

It helped me say what I felt. It helped me shape the thoughts I couldn’t fully articulate.

But I’m not sure how much credit I deserve.

AI can be really harmful to your learning. It makes it too easy to outsource your thinking — and robs you of the chance to learn with the hard parts, the parts that teach you something.

Honestly, the whole concept of loving ones work is still new to me. I’ve created so much in PLP, but I haven’t felt proud of just as much. 

Only now, when I am over halfway through high school — I’m starting to really love what I’m doing here.

But even that love comes with a footnote: 

I relied heavily on AI for parts of this process, especially the scriptwriting. And while the story was still mine, it’s hard not to feel like I cheated something. That’s a feeling I’m going to stay with — and do better with next time.