
Interested in working together? Just fill out the form below. Don't like the form? That's ok, just email us. Thank you.
Interested in working together? Just fill out the form below. Don't like the form? That's ok, just email us. Thank you.
Interested in working together? Just fill out the form below. Don't like the form? That's ok, just email us. Thank you.
ROBOTICS: MY JOURNEY
SAM QIAN
Welcome To My Robotics Journey.
​
This website is not just a record of competitions and achievements, but a collection of stories — of perseverance through failure, collaboration across borders, and the joy of sharing innovation with others.
​
Here, you’ll find my experiences in FIRST Robotics Competition (FRC) and other robotics projects, the lessons I’ve learned from setbacks and victories alike, and the communities I’ve helped inspire along the way.
​
This journey has taken me from late nights fine-tuning motors in empty classrooms, to building AI-driven models during lockdowns, to teaching children how to build circuits using lemons and pennies. Each moment, each challenge, has shaped not just how I think as an engineer — but how I see the world as a person.
​
I invite you to explore my story — not as a highlight reel, but as a chronicle of growth.

When I first joined my school’s robotics team, I didn’t imagine that a few pieces of metal, wires, and code would end up changing how I see the world. I didn’t even know how to hold a wrench properly. I remember the first time I was almost removed from the team because I lacked the fundamental skills. While some of my teammates were effortlessly calculating torque ratios and debugging complex code, I was struggling just to understand what went wrong when the robot wouldn’t move.
​
But it was in those humbling early moments that something inside me shifted. I realized that passion alone wasn’t enough — perseverance was everything. I started staying behind after school, poring over online tutorials and physics textbooks, determined to catch up. What I lacked in natural ability, I tried to make up for in stubborn effort. Every weekend, I stayed up past midnight soldering wires and testing prototypes, sleeping in the corner of classrooms when exhaustion caught up.

From Failure to Foundation
​
The first FRC season I joined was brutal. Our robot barely worked. Our code failed during testing, and in one regional competition, our drivetrain stopped functioning mid-match. I remember standing in the pit area, surrounded by whirring machines from other teams that seemed so polished and perfect, and wondering if we even belonged there.
​
Yet, in that low moment, something unexpected happened — my teammates didn’t give up. We gathered around our broken robot, tools scattered, hands trembling, and decided to rebuild everything from scratch. We spent the night troubleshooting wiring, rewriting motor control logic, and learning to collaborate under pressure. When our robot finally moved again, even for a few inches, we erupted in cheers. That tiny motion symbolized something enormous — the idea that failure wasn’t a verdict, but an invitation to begin again, better informed and stronger than before.
​
That lesson has stayed with me ever since: the greatest progress often starts where everything first falls apart.

Partnerships That Changed Everything
​
Not long after that, our project drew attention from Boeing China, one of the world’s most respected engineering companies. Out of all the student teams in Greater China, we became the only high school team they decided to support. The realization was surreal. Boeing engineers shared their expertise with us — guiding us on structural design, testing procedures, and advanced programming logic.
​
For the first time, I felt like our efforts were being recognized beyond the classroom. But more importantly, I saw how engineering is never an isolated act — it’s always about collaboration, mentorship, and shared purpose.
That partnership opened doors for our team to explore not just how to build machines, but how to build relationships — between generations, between countries, between people who might never have met if not for a shared fascination with technology.

From Engineering to Empathy
​
Somewhere along the way, my robotics journey stopped being just about building better robots. I started realizing what really made me happy wasn’t just seeing a motor spin or a robot complete its task — it was watching someone else light up when they built something for the first time. That spark of discovery, that moment when an idea turns into motion — it’s hard to describe, but it’s one of the best feelings in the world. That’s what pushed me to start teaching younger kids about engineering.
​
My first “classroom” wasn’t really a classroom at all — it was a small kindergarten. Most of the kids had never heard the word circuit. So I brought a box of lemons, pennies, wires, and tiny LED bulbs. Together, we built lemon-powered circuits that actually lit up. When that little bulb flickered on for the first time, the kids’ faces exploded with excitement. Honestly, I probably looked just as amazed as they did. It was in that moment I realized — this is what learning should feel like.
​
That simple experiment made me think a lot about how we teach technology. Why does it often feel intimidating? How do we make it approachable — and fun — for everyone, even those who think they’re “not good at science”?
​
A few months later, I got a pretty bold idea. I reached out to ShanghaiTech University. I was nervous — I mean, I was just a high school student sending an email to a university department head. But I wanted to see if there was a way to connect high school robotics teams with college mentors, to give more students a chance to explore STEM in a supportive environment. To my surprise, they replied. Then they said yes.
​
That partnership became something really special. We were the first high school team in China to partner with a university for robotics mentorship. It wasn’t just about technical advice — it was about connection, sharing experiences, and proving that age or background shouldn’t limit anyone’s curiosity.
​
I started realizing that technology itself isn’t the real magic — empathy is. When we use tech to connect people, to lift others up, it becomes something far more powerful than just machines and code.

Crossing Borders, Building Bridges
​
Over time, robotics took me far beyond my own school or city. I started leading workshops and teaching in Hong Kong, Australia, and other parts of China — and every new place taught me something different.
​
I saw how powerful community can be. Schools that didn’t have a lot of resources would share tools, mentors, and ideas so that everyone could participate. It didn’t matter who had the best equipment — what mattered was the shared passion to learn and build.
​
These experiences reminded me that robotics is more than competition — it’s connection. Robots might be made of metal and code, but what really drives them is teamwork and human spirit.
Learning Beyond Grades
​
All my life, people have reminded me that my GPA doesn’t tell the full story. And honestly, they’re right. I’ve never been the kind of student who scores perfectly on every test. But robotics taught me something more valuable than any report card ever could — that real learning comes from getting your hands dirty, making mistakes, and trying again and again until something finally works.
​
Through my years in FRC and other projects, I’ve learned that leadership doesn’t mean being the loudest voice — it means being the one who helps others rise when things get tough. I’ve learned resilience — how to keep debugging and rebuilding even when nothing seems to go right. And I’ve learned humility — that every teammate, no matter how experienced, has something new to teach.
​
One of my favorite parts of robotics has been using what I know to help others. I’ve worked with children who have special needs, helping them use simple robotics projects to build confidence and patience. I’ve seen quiet, shy students suddenly light up when they realize they can control a motor or make a robot move. I’ve even watched some of my own teammates grow from complete beginners to leaders who now mentor others.
It’s moments like those that remind me: learning isn’t about being perfect. It’s about growth, transformation, and sharing what you’ve learned with others.

Redefining What Winning Means
​
When I first joined robotics, I thought winning meant trophies — seeing our robot perform perfectly and ranking high in competitions. But as time went on, that definition started to change.
​
Winning, I realized, can mean a lot of things. It’s watching a teammate overcome self-doubt. It’s helping a student fix a broken sensor for the first time. It’s those moments when technology stops being just a skill and becomes a bridge — connecting people who might never have met otherwise.
​
One of my favorite memories wasn’t even about victory. During one competition, our robot completely broke down five minutes before the match. We tried to fix it, but it was hopeless. So instead of panicking, we just laughed, sat together, and cheered for other teams. Our robot didn’t move an inch that round — but somehow, we all walked away feeling like we’d won something more important.
​
That’s when it really hit me: robotics isn’t about robots. It’s about people — how we work together, how we support each other, and how we grow through every challenge.
​​
​
An Invitation
​
So, welcome.
​
Here you’ll find stories from my time in the FIRST Robotics Competition (FRC) and other robotics adventures. You’ll see the highs and lows — the moments that tested me, and the ones that reminded me why I love what I do.
​
This journey has taken me from long nights spent fixing robots in empty classrooms, to building AI models with my teammates during lockdown, to helping kids discover science through the simplest experiments. Each challenge, each small win, has shaped not just how I think as an engineer — but how I see the world as a person.
​
If there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that robotics isn’t really about machines. It’s about what happens between people when we build something together.
​
And maybe, just maybe, a broken robot that never moves can bring more joy than a perfect one — as long as it’s built with heart, and built together.
Contact Me
Interested in working together? Just fill out the form below. Don't like the form? That's ok, just email us. Thank you.
