My
Manifesto




About
Hoang Tuan Minh
Who I Am, Growing Up Between Books and Numbers?
I was born in Hanoi, a fast-growing city full of noise, energy, and ambition. My childhood, however, was not spent among tall buildings or bright lights. It was spent in mountains, terraced fields, and the winding rocky roads of Vietnam’s Northwest. I traveled with my grandfather to Điện Biên, sitting beside campfires in earthen houses and listening to quiet stories of resilience, war, and gratitude. It was there, surrounded by nature and strong, humble people, that I first understood what inequality truly means.
I still remember one moment clearly. In 5th grade, I followed my mother to a remote highland school. The school had only three classrooms, and the textbooks were so old their titles had faded. A little girl showed me a torn comic book and asked, with pure innocence, “Do people in the lowlands really have many books?” That question stuck with me for years.
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These journeys pushed me to dig deeper and understand the root causes of inequality. Why do families in rural areas struggle to access financial services? Why can’t parents save for their children’s education? How can simple barriers hold entire communities back?
To find answers, I turned to development economics. I conducted research on digital finance in rural Vietnam and published my first academic work. The more I learned, the clearer it became: education alone is not enough; real change requires economic opportunity.
That is why I built FinMate, a personal finance assistant for young people, and FinEdu, a financial education platform for students. I didn’t start these projects for profit; they were my response to a question that has followed me since childhood: “How can a child born in the mountains have the same chance in life as a child born in Hanoi?”

Beyond economics and education, I also explored the roots of identity and values. I turned to writing not to become a poet, but to remember, reflect, and connect. My first bilingual poetry collection, Red Pen, includes 13 poems about growing up, school pages, family bonds, memory, and gratitude. Writing opened another door in my journey, one that led me home to culture.
I later founded Chạm Thổ Cẩm (Touch the Weave), a social cultural project that works with H’Mong artisans in Pà Cò. Our mission is to bring brocade beyond the label of “ethnic souvenir” and honor it as a living cultural language in modern fashion.
When I returned to Hanoi, I started collecting used books and saved my allowance to buy more. Those small steps became the foundation of the Hope Library Fund, a community library initiative I founded at age 12. It began with just a few boxes of books sent to remote villages. Then volunteers joined, and schools partnered with us. Today, we have built more than 15 libraries and donated over 30,000 books to children in mountainous communities. That journey taught me an important lesson: you don’t need to wait until you are “old enough” to do meaningful work; start with what you have and where you are.
As I traveled more, I realized that books are not the only thing children lack; many also lack opportunity and hope. Some children stayed out of school not because they didn’t want to learn but because they dealt with birth defects and felt shame. It was then I found Operation Smile. I began fundraising for surgeries and later joined medical missions to support patients in highland provinces. There, I met Vừ, a H’Mong boy with a cleft palate who struggled to speak. After his surgery, the first thing he said was, “I want to go to school.” That moment made me realize that books can teach, but belief can change a life.


My Achievements
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Knowledge only matters when it creates value for people.











