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Silent battles, bold healing

In a campus that celebrates achievement, three students reveal the unseen challenges behind their successes and the strength it took to overcome

Gavin Davis sits on a grassy field while smiling at the camera.
Gavin Davis sits on a grassy field while smiling at the camera.
Photo by John Andrew Quizana

At a university known for its cultural diversity and spiritual focus, BYU-Hawaii students from varying origins found common ground in the quiet battles they fought behind their academic success. Valerie Joy Agustin, a senior political science and accounting major from the Philippines; Mun Hon Jared Chan, a freshman biology major from Utah; and Gavin Davis, a freshman hospitality and tourism management from Texas, shared how the weight of expectations, mental health challenges and the struggle to please others shaped their journeys at the university.

What began as silent suffering became a transformative pursuit of healing, faith, and leadership, said the students, as they learned to speak up, find purpose, and redefine success, not just by accolades, but by the courage to face their inner selves and serve others with empathy.

Journey beyond achievement: Valerie Joy Agustin

While sharing some anecdotes about her childhood, Agustin said, “Growing up, I learned that integrity is one of the most important values in life, no matter what circumstances you’re in.” Raised in a home where her father served in government, Agustin said she was taught early on that standing by one’s principles was non-negotiable. As the eldest sibling, she said she quickly became a pillar for her family—to learn, to lead and to protect.

“There were expectations placed on me—to learn things early, to be strong, to protect my siblings and to be independent,” she recalled. “I always felt that if something were to happen to my parents, I needed to be the one to stand for the family.”

But with high expectations came mounting pressure, she said. At 6 years old, Agustin said she unknowingly stepped into her first academic competition. “At first, I didn’t even know it was a competition—I just thought I was reviewing math problems,” she said. “I won the competition and people started expecting me to be good at everything—not just math, but English, science, everything. And suddenly, it wasn’t just about learning anymore. It was about being the best,” she recalled.

Valerie Agustin stands with her hands in her pockets, smiling confidently at the camera.
Valerie Agustin smiles confidently for the camera with her hands tucked in her pockets.

Agustin said fear stayed with her into adolescence as she started to push herself too hard. “I’d get embarrassed even with one mistake on an exam,” she said. “I didn’t want to show it to my parents because, in my mind, one mistake equaled failure.”

She said her deepest fears were tied to her relationship with her father. “I feared that if I stopped achieving, my parents—especially my dad—might stop loving me. I know that’s not true, but it was a fear that lived inside me,” she shared.

Agustin shared even amid her struggles, her father remained a constant as he remained by her side. “He was always there. He would still come to every competition, no matter the outcome. So I felt guilty—like I had to make him proud because he was the only one who always believed in me.”

Ironically, she said it was through losing that she found her way forward. “I lost what I thought was my ‘purpose’—being the smart one, the achiever—but that opened a door to something else: service and leadership,” she said. “I realized I could use my knowledge not to win medals, but to help people.”

From helping with her family’s convenience store to taking on leadership roles, she said she discovered purpose beyond academic validation. “It gave me a sense of purpose that felt more meaningful.”

Valeria Agustin sits on the grass, leaning against a coconut tree in a relaxed pose.
Valeria Agustin sits on the grass, leaning against a coconut tree in a relaxed pose.
Photo by John Andrew Quizana

“BYU–Hawaii gave me a fresh start,” she said. “No one here knew about my past achievements or the pressures I grew up with. I didn’t have to live up to anyone’s expectations. I could study what I wanted and enjoy learning again—not for awards, but for growth,” she said.

Agustin recalled some worries she had ever since her childhood. She said by the time she was 8, she was already waking up at 5 a.m. to cook breakfast and make sure her siblings got to school on time. “It wasn’t just about being responsible—it felt like I had to hold everything together,” she said.

“Sometimes, I fear losing what I’ve already earned—not just accomplishments, but things like the respect of others, or the love I feel I’ve received because of what I’ve achieved,” she confessed. “I know it’s not what my family truly thinks, but part of me struggles with this internal conflict: that maybe, if I stop being an achiever, if I no longer winning competitions or bringing home medals, my parents won’t love me the same way.”

Agustin said she began to unlearn the idea that her worth was tied to performance. “Being in this environment helped me realize I’m more than my achievements. I have value because of who I am, not just what I do,” she said.

Never be afraid to walk away from a place where you’re no longer growing.
Valerie Joy Agustin

But with time and courage, Agustin said she embraced her voice. “I see myself as someone ready to shake the ground and speak her truth, no matter the pressures life may bring,” she said. “In the coming seasons, I hope to make a meaningful impact whether by standing for international justice, defending the marginalized, or inspiring those who doubt their potential. We are never limited as we think, we just need the courage to rise,” she said.

When asked about any advice to students, Agustin said, “Never be afraid to walk away from a place where you’re no longer growing." She also said life isn’t about accolades. It’s about becoming someone you’re proud of. “As my dad told me on my graduation day, ‘Your greatest achievement isn’t the summa cum laude title. It’s becoming the person you always dreamed of being.”

New light from old paths: Jared Chan

Chan said he carries with him a layered past—one shaped by the gospel, shaken by family challenges, and ultimately restored by a decision to go on a mission that changed everything for him.

Chan said his upbringing revolved around church values. “Growing up, our values were very church-based. Our cousins, whom we lived with, were also members. But as we got older, my siblings fell away from the church, and even my oldest cousin, who was like an older brother to me, rejected the teachings as well,” he said.

Chan said his parents slowly stopped pushing the gospel on them and it became more of their choice. “My siblings had been pushing the limits for a while. My sister had an unexpected pregnancy when she was 18, and that broke a lot of my parents' expectations. Then my brother also expected a child at 19. By that time, my parents let go of all their expectations for us,” he said.

Chan said he started to feel the weight of independence earlier than most. “In high school, it felt like I was basically on my own. I knew my parents would support me and give me resources, but everything felt like it was on me.” Though he still attended church occasionally, Chan said he was spiritually distant.

Jared Chan poses calmly in a flannel shirt, looking away from the camera with a neutral expression, surrounded by greenery.
Photo by John Andrew Quizana

“Gospel-wise, I felt no pressure. I would go to church, but I wouldn’t read my scriptures or pray. I wasn’t even thinking about that,” he shared. He said he had no close friends who were active members of the church so during that time, he fell away. “I felt very lonely and estranged. I didn’t know who I was or what I was supposed to be.”

He said although he secretly looked up to his siblings, witnessing them make serious mistakes made him question following their paths as well. He said the most devastating moment happened one night during high school. “One time, my dad had a breakdown. After my brother did something really bad, my dad told my mom, ‘We failed as parents.’ I overheard that—and it was crushing.”

Chan recalled feeling like a disappointment to his parents even while still in high school. He said that sense of failure led him to withdraw, stop attending school, skip classes, lose motivation, and isolate himself in his room.

Chan shared after high school, most of his close friends headed off to college, while none pursued missions—except for one acquaintance from his ward. Attending that friend’s mission farewell made him consider the idea himself, he said. At first, he said, it was just a way to divert his parents’ attention. When they began urging him to serve, he said he agreed mainly to avoid further pressure, completed the application, and then put it out of his mind.

Even when the time came to be set apart, he said doubts lingered. “Eventually, it got to the day I would be set apart and start online MTC [mission training]. And up to that point, I hadn’t done any preparation. I wasn’t reading scriptures, still hung out with friends who were bad influences, and wasn’t living within the gospel standards,” he said.

Chan said the turning point happened at 3 a.m., the night before he was supposed to leave for the physical MTC. He told his parents he didn’t truly want to serve a mission, admitting he lacked testimony and had only gone through with it because of their pressure, he said. In that vulnerable moment, he said he made a heartfelt request—he asked them to affirm their belief in the gospel with complete sincerity. When his parents shared their testimonies, it moved him enough to say he would give it a try, he said.

“Right now, I discovered a lot about who I am and what I'm capable of,” Chan reflected. He said earlier in life, self-motivation was not his strength. “Growing up, my parents were both professors. They taught me a lot, but I never really wanted to do what they taught me. I would apply some of it, but I was never fully immersed. I just became lazy,” he said.

Jared Chan smiles at the camera while sitting on a pile of bricks.
Jared Chan smiles at the camera while sitting on a pile of bricks.
Photo by John Andrew Quizana

Chan reflected that while he had always known he was capable of achieving things if he truly committed, he often lacked the desire—so he ended up doing nothing. However, he said returning from his mission sparked a change in him. He said he came to realize he genuinely wanted to accomplish meaningful things—and he could, if he truly wanted to.

Chan also talked about making an impact. “I can be a great influence on other people. I can be a great leader. I can go beyond doing good things just for myself. I can serve and uplift others, help them overcome their challenges and achieve their potential,” he said.

He said he never knew he had it in him, but now he feels a desire to focus not only on himself but also on becoming a leader in his community, friendships, Church callings, academics and career pursuits. He added this is something he didn’t realize before but now he has discovered who he truly is.

Reflecting on the aspirations of many of his peers, Chan shared his observations about a common mindset he sees among his friends. “Something I see in a lot of my friends is they’re hoping for something very comfortable. Their goals, and even why they study, are based on comfort. But they don’t want to fulfill the full measure of what they can do,” Chan said.

“I believe everyone, in their own way, can become a great tool in the Lord’s hands—if they trust Him enough,” he said. He shared the key is to ask the Lord what He needs you to do, trust that there is a way, or at the very least, ask God to change your desires to align with His. He emphasized that by doing this, a person will become someone they never expected to be.

Chan said his past is now a faded silhouette. “Now, I can’t even remember who I used to be. I only see who God has helped me become. And five years from now, I have hope that I can become someone even greater.”

“I encourage you to want to be the best person you can be—and the best person you can be is the person God wants you to be,” Chan emphasized. He said when it comes to people's careers, friendships and their personal growth, it is important to ask God and then give everything to Him. He said he wants to assure people God will make them greater than they could on their own.

I encourage you to want to be the best person you can be—and the best person you can be is the person God wants you to be.
Jared Chan

The purpose behind the pause: Gavin Davis

Davis said, like many members of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, he grew up with clear expectations: Attend church, participate in youth programs and ultimately serve a mission. Yet, his journey toward becoming his own person did not follow the conventional path people may have anticipated, he said.

“I was born and raised in the church, so my family are all members. The values and expectations I grew up with were pretty normal for an LDS family: Go to church, participate in Young Men or Young Women's, do Scouts, go on a mission, that kind of thing,” Davis said, reflecting on the framework that shaped his early years.

For church members, serving a mission right after high school is almost a given, said Davis. However, for him, that idea didn’t feel right. “I didn’t have much of a testimony right out of high school. I just remember thinking I’d go on a mission, but a couple of months before graduation, I got my mission call, and I had a lot of time to think about it,” he said. He said when he got the call, it really started to sink in, and he began to wonder if he could actually do it.

Rather than following the expected route, Davis said he took a step back, choosing to go to Alaska as a fishing guide at a remote lodge. With no Wi-Fi or phone service, he said it was a period of solitude and meditation. “It helped me a lot,” Davis shared. “I just had time to think about what I really knew, what testimony I had, and why I was doing this. I realized I didn’t have much of a testimony. So, I canceled the mission call.”

Gavin Davis sits on bleachers in a white shirt, looking calmly at the camera with a composed expression.
Gavin Davis sits on bleachers in a white shirt, looking calmly at the camera with a composed expression.
Photo by John Andrew Quizana

“That decision was monumental,” he said. “It gave me the space to reflect. Without distractions, my thoughts became clearer—and that’s when I realized I wasn’t ready. So I canceled it, but I didn’t walk away. I just knew it wasn’t the right time yet.”

After a year of working and attending vocational school for firefighting, Davis said he re-evaluated his life. He said his time away from home allowed him to process what truly mattered. “Eventually, my brother came home from his mission, and he told me I should serve. That helped me reconsider,” Davis recalled. “I had a lot of experiences that led me to feel that it was God’s hand guiding me to serve.”

A year later, Davis said he submitted his papers again—and received the same mission call to serve in Japan.

This story of courage, self-reflection, and trust in God's timing is one that has deeply impacted Davis’ faith and understanding of his purpose, he said. “In a good way? I’m more full,” he reflected, comparing who he is now to the person he was before. “I feel like I’m happier. I feel like I see my purpose, and I see the ‘why’ of life. I see the ‘why’ of hard things. If you have a purpose, if you know the ‘why,’ you can do anything.”

But it wasn’t just the mission experience that shaped Davis, he said. He said he also had internal struggles and fears along the way. “I felt I disappointed my family. But I came to realize that I didn’t disappoint them. They were really supportive. I also felt like I was falling behind my friends who went to college while I stayed home. It was tough.”

In his vulnerability, Davis said he acknowledged the emotional toll of not meeting expectations, both external and internal. Yet, it was through these struggles that he learned invaluable lessons about purpose, faith and resilience, he said.

A pull-out quote from Gavin Davis reads, "Everything hinges on action—faith becomes real only when I choose to act on what I’ve learned and felt," with Davis smiling under a cloudy sky in the background.
Photo by John Andrew Quizana

For Davis, understanding his purpose was the turning point. “It’s incredible,” he said, speaking to the power of knowing one’s purpose in life. “Bad things will happen, but you can stay positive, continue to work hard, and keep that determination.”

The journey that led Davis to his mission—and eventually to the university—was not without its challenges, he said. But through it all, he said he gained clarity on his path, learning to trust that God’s plan would unfold in its own time. “Never give up on God, no matter how interesting or strange the path may seem. He is there and knows what He’s doing. Continue to seek revelation, follow the basic answers, and trust in His plan. Don’t lose hope.”

While reflecting on his journey, he shared the lessons he’s learned close to his heart. “I learned the importance of aligning my daily life with divine purpose by seeking to be on the Lord’s errand—waking up each day ready to bless others through spiritual promptings. I discovered the power of spending quiet, intentional time with God through meditative prayer, and how giving the “firstlings of the flock”—the best part of my day—to God through scripture study and prayer brings immediate blessings,” he said. Davis also said he learned that visualizing is a gateway to revelation. By slowing down and envisioning with purpose, I create space for divine insight. “Most importantly, I realized that everything hinges on action—faith becomes real only when I choose to act on what I’ve learned and felt,” he said.

Gavin Davis standing on a grassy field with one hand in his pocket, smiling with forested mountains and cloudy skies behind him.
Gavin Davis smiles with his hand in his pocket while standing on a green field, framed by the mountains of Oʻahu in the background.
Photo by John Andrew Quizana