My heart aches anew at the anniversary of our loss of Emily.  I am holding you in the light as you deal with each new day of this incomprehensible loss, hoping time is at least helping to dull the pain.
With love and support in your grief.
Daryl Stoner (Caroline Bank's mother)

I think of Emily often.  I had the office nearest where the young investment professionals ate lunch together and could frequently hear their youthful banter.  From there, I got to listen to Emily's good natured teasing of her colleagues.  She just seemed to get everything a few beats ahead of the others.  I would wait for her unrestrained laughter, when the others would figure out that she had just made them a gentle punchline.  It was never mean.  It was just that, she seemed to catch the wave, while others were still paddling.
Emily would occasionally stop by my office and chat for a few minutes about life, work, running, whatever.  She was so pleasant, kind and funny.  And, I miss her.  Fairness doesn't enter in to illness.  I am so grateful for the time that I knew her.

I first met Emily in the winter of 2004 on vacation in Japan. We were tourists on one of those cheesy guided tours. Emily and I met each other that first day, instantly drawn mostly due to the fact that we were the only kids on this tour bus and the same age. Emily was my bus buddy for 7 straight days: we played endless card games, remarked how embarrassing the hot springs were for us, and debated whose side we were on in the Hilary Duff vs. Lindsay Lohan feud. As a mere 12 year old on a highly advanced cultural trip, I do remember the wonderful sights and delicious food we had across Kansai, but what left an indelible mark on this trip was my friendship with Emily.

Over the years, we kept in touch from time to time over Xanga, then Facebook. When we both graduated college, both of us happened to be living in the Bay Area just a few miles away from each other. We finally met up again when Emily invited me and my roommate over to her apartment to make pizza. I was initially worried that it would be a bit awkward; after all, we last saw each other as pre-teens! As soon as we arrived, though, all those worries disappeared. Emily made it feel like we were old friends; we even joked about how we had actually only met each other once and this was our first hangout in 10 years. I have so many memories with Emily during those few years I was around the Bay: KBBQ-ing at home, making Christmas crafts in SF with matching chokers, escape rooming, board gaming, and the most fun I’ve had at Pure lounge. 

The last time I saw Emily was during my leaving party before I moved to England. I never imagined that day would be the last time I would say goodbye to her. I thought, of course she’ll be around and we’ll catch up like always, just like the last time we caught up after 10 years. 

Emily is one of those timeless friends you have that just brightens up your life. I am incredibly lucky to have had Emily as one of my oldest friends.

I still have a hard time accepting that you’ve moved on to the next great adventure—you had so much more to give and to add to this world. 

I will always be grateful that we were assigned the same dorm freshman year.  Thank you for being such a kind, bright, bubbly beam of light in our lives.  You were a fierce friend, a powerhouse of an individual, a delight to be around, beautiful inside and out, absolutely without guile.  I will continue to miss you terribly, and I cannot wait to hear your laugh and see your face again.

Every time I try to think of my favorite moments with Emily, I remember more. I remember our first night as roommates, staying up late talking about life philosophies, families, and all sorts of  very strongly held beliefs we shared at the time. She filled in my embarrassing blanks when it came to Disney and 90s pop songs, but never made me feel bad about them. She taught me that asparagus could be delicious, and together we learned that fermented orange juice will explode if enclosed too tightly for too long. No one else could have gotten me to play squash or frisbee golf. 

She was bold and daring; she would ask anyone anything at any time, find Joseph Gordon Levitt's escape route golf cart, Facebook friend cute boys in my biology class so I could stalk them, climb roofs with me, crash Spanish masses, etc.

She loved her friends and family with such pure positivity; while she held us to high standards, she was never truly critical, nor did she understand how people could ever be cruel to the ones they love, even when I must have hurt her, teasing her about the leggings she wore as pants (which I now wear all the time).  She radiated genuine pride over all of our accomplishments; no one has ever believed in me the way she did, nor helped me believe in myself the same way. 

I will always treasure a conversation we had about the way we think; if I saw an airplane in the sky, I would think about my own experiences with travel, but Emily thought about all the people on the airplane, their lives, the mechanics of the plane, how and who built it, and a million other external factors. I have never encountered anyone so genuinely curious about the world and I wish so deeply I could have that sincere an interest in anything and everything. 

She will always be the most vibrantly alive presence in my life experience. I will always look to her for support, for inspiration, for the love and pride in me that she had and I often lack. I miss you, I love you, Emily. 

It’s hard to overstate the impact Emily had on my life, all of our lives – exemplified by the countless friendships she formed and the memories she created. Although futile to try to capture all her facets in words – she was courageous and kind, intelligent and witty, decisive and determined, she was an inspiration.

I had the luck of working with Emily at Silver Lake. Her intellectual curiosity, work ethic, and ease with which she dissected companies and business models were awe inspiring. There’s an oft sought after trait, the ability to “run through walls”, and Emily did that figuratively and literally! Not to mention she was always organizing events and sessions, and was a tireless champion for diversity and women in finance. She showed me the ropes and was a wonderful mentor.

We bonded over the late nights (looking for the revenue), the hour long drives to Pleasanton for diligence, the family-style Chinese takeout, the fact we were both staunch Peninsula advocates while the rest of the office lived in SF, or that we preferred our pod on the warm side, or as others put it, like a sauna. You spend so much time with your coworkers they become family.

Her diagnosis was a shock, an impossibility for someone so vibrant and full of life. It all seemed so unfair. But even through the ups and downs, she found happiness in the little things. I was lucky to share some of those joyful moments – the Game of Thrones viewing parties, endless rounds of Code Names and gleeful cries for another, the dumpling making cake baking sashimi slicing duck frying Michelin chasing food adventures. She’d want us to think of those happy memories when we think of her.

It’s been hard to come to terms with Emily’s passing. She brightened the world and departed too soon. We were lucky to have her in our lives, if only it could have been for longer. I can only believe she’s in a better place now, but I know she’ll live on in all our memories.

Emily left the world better than when she entered it. I can personally say that she changed my life for the better. 

Emily was optimistic. I first met her in 2015, when I had moved from New York to SF to work at Morgan Stanley. She was one of the only people I knew that genuinely enjoyed working on semiconductor transactions. Semis were one of the most complex industries to cover, and she loved them, go figure! That was Emily though. She loved life, even with its complexities and maybe in some ways, because of them. Emily was stellar at everything she did. From being a great coworker to being a great friend. 

Emily was caring. I can still hear her voice reaching peak levels as she would yell, “Megan! How ARE you?” She would emphasize the ‘are’ because she truly wanted to know how I was doing. Her positive energy was contagious. 

Emily was fun. She was always down to go out (our Morgan Stanley crew knows what I mean), even when she had work obligations. I have too many memories of Emily staring at a laptop screen as I put on heels because it was time to go. Emily would send a few emails out, and then take the city by storm without missing a beat.

Emily was a game-changer. The last time I heard Emily’s voice, she had called to ask me about recommendations for a women’s-focused initiative she was leading at Silverlake. Indeed, Emily always put herself before others, even when she was dealing with illness. 

Below is a photo I took of Emily in Napa. It is one of my favorite headshots, and I sent this to her in October 2020. This is how I will remember her – beautiful, radiant, smiling, and full of life. 


Emily was 2 years ahead of me at Stanford, and I had the pleasure of working with her as a diligence partner in one of the deals she led at Silver Lake. Emily was so humble, and so wise and mature beyond her years. I made a mental note to follow her wherever she might end up, because I knew she would go on to do extraordinary things in this world. 

She once recommended a book on her Facebook "Sharks Fin and Sichuan Pepper" and her discovery of her love for Chinese culinary history. While I know nothing (and cared very little about Chinese cooking at the time), I ended up buying the book anyways and devouring it in a day. I never even told her it was her post that made me buy the book. I just respected and admired her so much, I was curious enough to buy it and see why she liked it. That is a small example of the kind of impact and influence Emily exuded on the people around her. 

I am incredibly saddened we will no longer get to experience her warmth and positivity. She will be missed by us all. 

Despite being a few years apart at Stanford, I shared some fond memories with Emily. The one I remembered as if it happened yesterday was a recruiting event at Stanford. That was the 1st time I got back to Stanford campus recruiting for Morgan Stanley since I graduated.  I knew Emily's name before but never got to meet her in person until then. We organized a small group lunch for women and I remember Emily asking a few very thoughtful and smart questions. After the event, we had a discussion internally, and everyone at the Morgan Stanley team was super impressed with her and we quickly came to the conclusion that it would be an honor for Morgan Stanley to have Emily join us in the future. We never really told Emily that because that was a recruiting secret and every candidate still had to go through the full process of interviewing and super rounds but we were very sure at the lunch that she would be an amazing asset wherever she goes. And luckily, she did end up working at MS for quite a few years after college. 

After that event, she always kept in good touch with me. And we would sometimes message each other on random stuff we saw on social media and had a good laugh. I always felt so much warmth, positive energy from her which was so inspiring. We will always remember her for her kindness, humbleness, outstanding achievement, and all the positive influences she has had on people around her. Rest in peace Emily. 

For the past five years as Emily’s housemate, I’ve come to regard Emily as a big sister that I never had, and together with her parents, Papa and Mama Tian, my adopted family in a foreign country where I had none. 

For a while, I was battling my own health issues, and yet Emily and I bonded over our predicaments and she inspired me to grow stronger everyday. Emily would check in on me before my exams and comfort me on “scan anxieties”. Papa and Mama Tian cooked and shared all the meals with me after my surgery, and stuffed our fridge full fearing that I’d starve during the recovery. Many sleepless nights as I laid on my bed catching my breath, somehow knowing that Emily was in the room above and that I could always count on her big warm hugs calmed me down. Despite all that Emily had gone through herself, she still remembered every detail mentioned by her friends, and never refrained from offering compassion and positivity whenever it’s needed. 

But then, there was also the time she saw me cooking for the very first time, and joked that “it’s a miracle I still have all my ten good fingers”; the time she couldn’t stop laughing on my “very wrong choices” for a potential boyfriend; the time Emily, Papa Tian, Mama Tian and I spent the entire evening home karaoke, singing old Chinese songs from 还珠格格; the time she volunteered over eagerly to become the “cinematographer” of my silly TikTok videos; the time we took our routine afternoon walks around the neighborhood, taking pictures of all the beautiful flowers in full bloom, and sharing our dreams, desires, and hopes for the future. Emily had such passion for life, be it goofy or funny or tender, she threw her entire self into these moments, and lightened up everything surrounding her.

I miss you Emily, very much. I feel so very fortunate to have you as a true friend who cares, guides, and inspires so much. I hope you are in a place with peace, with no pain or sorrow, and with your forever big bright smile.

Emily and I met in the hotel lobby of an investment banking summer internship superday (this seems to be a trend for our go-getter friend). We were young and in New York City, feeling, I’m sure, like adults, as we conferred at a circular sofa in the middle of a tall-ceilinged, chandelier-adorned great hall. We were checking into our hotel either before or after a grueling day of interviews. Easily, with the soft smiles of two budding young women, we became friends. Again, seemingly on trend with the warm, friendly, and caring Emily that so many of us were lucky enough to know. I can remember that scene as if it were yesterday. 

We managed to exchange a few catch-ups and express our desire for meet ups over Facebook messenger, many birthday greetings, and the briefest of unplanned run-ins in San Francisco and Palo Alto, over the years. Looking back on our messages I can see her care and invitations to connect and deepen our friendship.

I admired Emily greatly. So much so, that in some of my messages and memories, I can see my own insecurities reflected. I know now what I wish I had known then - had I confided in Emily I am sure she would have known every exact thing to say. I admired Emily for all I knew of her and what I imagined about her life. I wish I had known more. I loved the way she messaged me saying “where’s my friend?”, calling me a friend the way I’m sure she expressed genuine care to so many in her life, despite our briefest of moments together. 

I am so sorry to see Emily’s story cut short. Clearly she touched and inspired the lives of so, so many and would have so many more. To Emily’s Mom and Dad, and partner: I am so sorry for your irreplaceable lost. Your daughter will be remembered forever. 

Emily, rest in peace. You’ve touched our lives... you will be remembered. 💗

The picture below was taken from a lovely trip to Napa during one of the many moments of laughter. I remember the pure joy of being surrounded by great humans on a warm day, indulging in both trivial and meaningful conversations. When we went around the table at the last vineyard we visited that day, we reflected on the lessons from the past year. Emily's wisdom moved and inspired everyone. As Pooja held her hand, Emily shared with us her deeply personal lesson to never take life for granted.

And you can tell. From each of our individual interactions with her, and from reading every other person's reflections, Emily clearly never took life for granted. Fully present, overflowing with kindness & helpfulness, and just a constant ray of sunshine. Even during the past year, each time we spoke on the phone she was full of wisdom about love, work, family, everything. I am just one of so many people who have been lucky enough to know Emily. In her life, she's made so many of us smile and has inspired us in more ways than she even knew. And she'll continue to do so, forever.

I first met Emily through work at Morgan Stanley in 2015, my first job out of school. In one of our earliest interactions, Emily tapped me to help plan a birthday party for a few of our fellow analysts. What struck me most, in addition to Emily’s huge heart to bring greater comradery to our office, and her love for celebrating and celebrating with her friends, was that she prioritized this party and coordinating logistics with me while working sixteen hours a day on a live IPO roadshow!

I had the huge blessing of working closely with Emily – we were staffed on two accounts together in Slack and Pinterest. Emily’s positivity, work ethic, and empathy taught me how to be a better employee, co-worker, friend and person. So much of who I am today is owed to Emily’s friendship and mentorship in a very formative time of my life.

During one Tahoe trip (pictured below), I was humbled by Emily sharing about how much she loved her parents, and how everything she endeavored to do was to honor them and their sacrifices for her. At the time, she was preparing to transition to her role at Silver Lake, and while she felt nervous and uncertain in herself, would study tirelessly to make sure she was ready (and she, of course, excelled in her new role). Emily carried both a relentless fighting spirit and an enormous wellspring of love. I’m so grateful for the memories we were able to share. Sending much love to all the friends and family whose lives were bettered by Emily.


Emily had the incredible gift of being able to become friends with anyone. She also had an infectious energy that brought all the friends she had made from different walks of life together for amazing and unique experiences. That’s how I met Emily – at work at Morgan Stanley in 2015 – where she immediately took an interest in becoming friends with the new crop of analysts, recently graduated, despite having worked there for a year already. Emily would become so energized connecting all the people in her life together, which was something I’d always admired about her. 

I’d never known someone so willing to extend their friendship to others and before I’d known it I’d done everything from go to Coachella with Emily, celebrate birthdays at restaurants, brave white water rapids in a boat together (pictured – us after our raft had capsized!), and create ugly Christmas sweaters for one another. All the while, I’d continue to meet and make friendships with others who’d been fortunate enough to call Emily a friend. 

She had so many incredible qualities, but my favorite was that she was an absolute joy to be around – full of fun and positivity. I will miss her unbridled enthusiasm for life and her fellow love of Star Wars, BB-8 , Baby Yoda, and Avatar the Last Airbender. My life was bettered by Emily coming into it and I will forever cherish the amazing memories we made together. 

Emily was simply amazing. She always had the brightest smile and energy about her. From the first time I saw her standing up at the podium middle school for her ASB election speech, to finding out we were going to be next door neighbors, to shouting to each other from our respective bedroom windows in the middle of the night, to joint Thanksgiving dinners, to neighborhood weekend walks, and to making steamed hot chocolate, Emily was always so much fun. She exuded confidence, grace, and beauty. And no matter how many amazing accomplishments she had, she was always so humble. But  most of all, she had so much love for her family and friends. I will never know someone as kind, caring, and thoughtful as her. Emily, you will be missed so much <3

I first met Emily in the elevator of Silver Lake's New York office during full-time training. Her team had just finished preparing their case study presentation, and she greeted me with a big smile. I can't remember her exact words, but she said something so warm and refreshing during our elevator ride down. As I was walking home, I didn't yet know how incredibly brilliant Emily would be as a colleague but was somehow touched by her shining personality in such a small moment. Emily and I were based in different offices and reconnected on our firmwide ski trip about six months later. The two of us broke off from a larger group to ski a bunch of  longer runs together. As we chatted on the chairlift, I learned how full of life, talented, brilliant, and intellectually curious Emily was. My favorite memory of Emily was watching her speed down this run called "Harmony" waving her arms so full of joy. 

Emily was incredibly passionate in mentoring other young women to pursue careers in finance, and over the next few years we worked together on a number of high-impact initiatives, none of which would have been possible without her initiative and passion.  These events / programs were ideas Emily dreamed up and made a reality. Most recently, she was instrumental in launching and leading Silver Lake's Distinguished Scholars Program, and I'm so grateful to have been a part of it with her. Emily was truly inspiring. 

Mr. and Mrs. Tian, you raised an incredible daughter with a rare combination of exceptional kindness, beauty, intellect, and ability to touch those around her.  My deepest condolences, we all miss her.

I met Emily through my housemate and good friend Jorge during business school. She was warm and welcoming and really took the effort to get to know each of us, despite her work and treatment schedule. After a long day at school, I would bump into her and Jorge and she would initiate these deep and warm conversations. Her curiosity, sincerity and genuineness showed in these conversations and made me feel comfortable and more energized during these moments of vulnerability. 
She was also incredibly caring and thoughtful. Moving into a new house wasn’t an easy task, especially with all of us coming back from abroad after summer. She took the time to help us when she could and even brought us items based on her sharp observations of our household. I still have one of her messages saying, “We bought some of our own condiments which you should feel free to use! Thanks for prepping the kitchen to a great start! We hope to keep it clean for you since you seem to cook some stuff for yourself!”
I also remember her infectious enthusiasm and her bubbliness even when meeting new people when she joined an ABSA hike back in fall 2019. She had a knack for drawing people in and disarming even in the first encounter. My classmates spoke of her warmth and how she was really fun to be around with. 
The news of her passing was so hard to accept. My heart goes out to her parents and her loved ones. She will always be missed by all. 

I met Emily 10 years ago when we were both freshmen in an intro math class at Stanford. Little did i know how our lives intertwined in the next decade. Looking back, I feel grateful to have known Emily as a true sister, as family and as someone who will always occupy a tender place in my heart. Thinking of Emily, I’m reminded everyday how lucky we are to enjoy all privileges of life, which were taken away way too soon from her.

At Stanford, Emily had always been the most outstanding student. However, it was only after we became housemate in 2016 that I got to know the true Emily. Emily is genuine, warm, strong on the outside and a real sweetheart in the inside. We’ve had so many girly conversations about guys while waiting for laundry. I was her go-to partner to practice Chinese; she was my trusted advisor for breaking into the world of finance. From Palo Alto to Redwood City, we moved together as a house and had countless happy memories from living under the same roof for 3 years. Emily was passionate about Star Wars, and had strong views about politics and women’s rights. She was gregarious with her friends and really close with her parents. Emily was so energetic and full of life that you would never feel dull around her.

All these made Emily’s departure ever more unbearable. I still remember when Emily told me about her diagnosis in late-2018, I googled the disease and couldn’t help tearing up. It would take a true miracle to beat the odds of her prognosis. But Emily did not want others to grief on her behalf; she was simply the bravest girl I had ever met. Despite knowing her life course would be very different, Emily lived her last two years with the same passion for life as she always had.

When Emily was first diagnosed, I painted her a blooming daisy in watercolor and wrote “let life be beautiful like summer flowers”. Now, with Emily’s short yet magnificent life concluded, may her passing be like autumn leaves, forever leaving a warm memory in us.

I met Emily at work in 2014. In a stroke of good fortune, our desks were right next to each other, without even a barrier to split them apart. We spent every moment together: saying hi in the morning, eating lunch outside in the sunshine, chatting during work and then eating dinner again together.  In our spare time we'd take long breaks -- going to get ice cream at Tin Pot, walking in endless circles around the work parking lot and going to Stanford shopping center for her favorite grilled cheese or baguette sandwich. When we both changed jobs, she'd plan adventures in SF during the day and we'd have sleepovers at night. It is impossible to spend any time with Emily and not love her. I loved her easily. And it seemed, back then, that we had so much time. 

Emily was just fun! She loved holidays, birthdays -- any reason to celebrate. Over the holidays she'd cook or bake fun treats for her friends, buy or make beautiful decorations and I swear she spent half the year looking forward to Christmas. She loved birthdays even more, planning her own birthday bashes and planning her friends' birthdays too! She made all my birthdays special, even while going through so many struggles of her own: planning elaborate birthday parties, decorating birthday cakes and telling me how much she loved me. She would constantly dream up new activities - dining in the dark, going to Coachella, unique events at Stanford - and I was often the willing recipient of her schemes. She was the friend who always said yes to anything you wanted to do and no matter what told you how much fun she had at the end. 

I miss Emily so much. It changes every day. Today when I think of Emily I think of the setting sun. The light dimmed but still brilliant, the fiery colors beating across the horizon and the sun's warmth radiating even in its final moments. 

Pictured:  Emily celebrating after absolutely crushing her marathon!


Emily was my best friend in elementary school. And no one has said it yet, so I will: kid Emily was just as incredible as adult Emily. This girl was born to kill it in life. The Emily I knew as a child was super sharp, snarky, curious, playful, and so, so earnest. She never tried to be the cool or cute one, which made her the absolute coolest and cutest, to me. I’m pretty sure she couldn’t lie if it’d save her. She had this smirk, which seemed to never leave her face, and the sweetest pout. (Her face was so many emojis.) Since we barely hung out at Stanford, my best memories of her are still of us in fifth and sixth grade, going to Taco Bell and Morning Glory, playing computer games on cartoonnetwork.com, chatting on AIM, playing tennis, swimming, sneaking snacks upstairs past her parents, obsessing over Harry Potter, and trying to figure out if we had the same crush. I think back to all the cringey things we used to do, like open our report cards in the middle of our street and simultaneously freak out over getting straight A’s (we were not cool). None of this matters; the point is she was everything I wanted and needed in a best friend. 
Our message history is basically a log of her giving me free advice about Stanford and checking in every few years without any prompting. I had forgotten about these acts of kindness. But I’m sure they would come as no surprise to anyone who knew her. Emily didn’t just care about her friends; she went way out of her way to show it.
The news of her passing was and still is hard to accept. Reading others’ memories of her here has triggered so many of my own. My heart aches most for her parents. I am so sorry for your loss.

I remember first meeting her on her birthday during one of my first days at my first job out of school. 

I was nervous, and she was incredibly kind and made herself a friend immediately.

Emily is a special person.  Her positive spirit is contagious and she brought people together.

I will always be grateful to have met her and will cherish one of our latest memories together at her birthday rafting trip a couple years back.

Sending love to Emily’s family and friends. 

I remember meeting Emily way back during NSO, back in Okada as dormmates. Her cheer was just infectious – I can still remember her laugh as one of the most distinct from back then. I look back at our photos together and the shenanigans outnumber any serious pics 10:1. Thinking back to that first Stanford summer, I remember our crew with the movie nights, the boba runs, the karaoke – when Emily was there, you know you were gonna have a good time! Even after graduating into our working lives in the Bay, Emily never failed in making me feel welcome whenever we crossed paths again.

Last time we talked was in passing during our 5th year reunion - Class Party went by like a haze, but even in that moment years past, she still gave me that bubbly greeting with her classic smirk. 

Emily had a light touching so many of us. Her warmth and kindness were truly her own, and to think she’s gone so soon feels impossible. Thank you for being my friend, Emily - always loved, always missed.


Emily and I had been friends since freshman year of college. When I think of us, I recall the little moments, the conversations, and the laughter that we shared. I remember when we detoured to the outlets on the way down to Irvine to avoid traffic and ended up with new purchases, when we walked around her neighborhood after her first surgery and talked about impermanence as a reminder to enjoy life, when she told me she better be a bridesmaid for my wedding, when we rushed dinner at Progress and almost missed Hamilton, and when we obsessively played Animal Crossing during quarantine, trying to game the turnip market. I will miss the pedicure dates, the hikes, and the laughter and will keep these memories very close to my heart.  
Emily was beautiful, intelligent, ambitious, kind, and brave. She was always curious and pushing herself mentally and physically to learn and grow. She told me that she wanted to be a C-level executive one day and I had no doubt that she would be one. As a friend, she did not hesitate to express her gratitude for our friendship.  While she was receiving treatments for the past two years, she checked in with us and updated us regularly. She was so strong, so brave. And, her resolve and optimism never faltered. 
I try to remember this saying from metta (loving/ compassion) meditation — that the true metta is connection that can withstand distance and the ability to be at peace knowing that the other is happy, healthy and at peace. And so, Emily, I will try to be at peace knowing that you are somewhere better, pain-free and despite the physical distance, you are and will always be close to us.

I remember the first day of meeting Emily as clear as yesterday. I had heard so much about Emily from my dear friend Jorge; how incredible, brilliant, accomplished yet kind. compassionate and loving she was - I had never seen him happier and couldn't wait to meet her once I moved back to San Francisco.

We decided to meet on a sunny weekend afternoon in Dartealing Lounge in SoMa in Aug-20. When I first saw Emily, I was immediately taken away by her radiance and warmth. She was so incredibly genuine that I immediately felt pulled in, and any guards I had put up were instantly disarmed. Over crumpets and tea, Emily and I bonded over our love for adventures, art, and life aspirations. I can't quite accurately describe why, but it was one of the most memorable first encounters and conversations I've ever had in my life. If I had to attempt to attribute why, it would due to the fact that she possessed a truly rare combination of genuinity, curiosity, charisma and warmth. Within minutes, I felt like Emily was already my best friend and I could confide everything in her. I remember leaving the afternoon tea thinking wow, what a gem of a person. 

Even though we only had a few subsequent interactions, I reveled in each opportunity to chat with Emily and feel her radianting warmth. I wish life had afforded me the opportunity to get to know her better, but I am so grateful to have known such a beautiful and one in a million soul.

My heart and prayers are with her family and her loved ones during this difficult time. She will always be in my thoughts and she will be dearly missed by all. 



Dear Tian Family,

I didn't know Emily well at Stanford, but she was always kind, friendly, and joyful. We had dinner in Singapore when she visited in 2017, and I remember the energy she felt at visiting Southeast Asia. She was both a loyal friend and highly capable person. 

I looked back on our Facebook Messenger conversations and thought the following message from our junior year shares her personality well. 

"my email is being wacky and i had trouble finding you on stanford who. BUT i have a lofting tool i just borrowed from wilbur that you can use for today :))) text me 949-278-8484 case i'm not in."

My deepest condolences.

Regards,
Kai Yuan

I met Emily on our very first day of college, and four years later, we graduated together in the same Wacky Walk crew (true to her playful wit, we dressed up as Cards Against Humanity). This is what I will remember about Emily: her infectious laughter, her razor-sharp intellect, her ability to ace all her Stanford classes without ever pulling an all-nighter (how? I wondered), her warm, encouraging friendship over the many years that we knew each other. She was strong-willed but open-minded. Her charm seemed boundless. She had no reservations about accompanying me to Medieval Times in Buena Park as college seniors, and even drove us to a costume shop so we could be properly attired for a 13th-century dinner and show. 

Emily was endlessly brave. A few days after she underwent her first scans, she attended a Halloween party in the city because, in her words, there was no purpose to moping around at home. I was moved by her resolve to live as widely as she could, even when faced with enormous uncertainty.

I’m saddened that Emily and I didn’t get to talk one last time, that we won’t be at each other’s weddings, that we can’t look back together at our twenties when we’re fifty and with children of our own—but I know her deep spirit will always stay close to my mind, and my heart. Rest in paradise, my dear friend.


Emily was an undergrad at Stanford when I was doing my PhD. I was fortunate to get to know Emily during a study trip to China, for which I was an instructor. She had a brilliant mind and a scintillating personality. When the team was tired from all the traveling and visits to companies and factories, she was the person to cheer everyone up and keep the momentum going. Her wit shined through, always. 

Emily was gone too soon, but my memories of her will remain intact. She was among my first students. In fact, her passion for acquiring new knowledge and sharing her viewpoints with others demonstrated to me the power of learning and the meaning of teaching. That was the very reason I chose to pursue a career as a professor. For that I thank you, Emily. Rest in peace. 

- Wesley

Emily was a dear friend whose kindness, zest, intelligence, and humility I will forever cherish. We were freshman dorm mates at Stanford, and I still vividly remember when we first met and introduced ourselves in the hallway. Despite our different academic interests, we were in several classes together and shared common passions for history, arts, culture, and food. It feels like only yesterday when we sat side by side in those math tutorials, cross-checking answers to practice problems. Or when we chatted at breakfast in a largely empty dining hall because we were among the few who had 9 am lectures to attend. During our first summer break, we both chose to stay on campus, doing research projects and teaching at a summer camp. Emily and I spent much of that summer together having fun movie nights, hanging out with friends, and visiting local museums and eateries. Through the rest of our Stanford years, we regularly met up over coffee at Coupa despite our busy coterm schedules.  

Life picked up speed after graduation, but we kept in touch. Every so often, we met to catch up over food at various ethnic restaurants. She always remembered to reach out to me around my birthday. Despite not being able to attend my wedding when she started not feeling well over 2 years ago, she made sure to meet with me separately to hear my stories and celebrate together. Emily was like a true Morning Star, as her Chinese name implies. The amount of empathy, care, joy, and optimism she radiated warmed my heart every time I saw her. It is a feeling that I will always remember and dearly miss. I am deeply saddened by Emily's passing. As I am looking through our photos and messages from yesteryears, I cannot help but smile, with fondness and in tears, and wish my friend all the peace and love wherever she is.

I first met Emily at a Stanford Holi event. It was right before Emily was going to join Silver Lake - she was so incredibly warm towards me and excited about working together that I felt immediately at ease. We had such a fun time throwing around colors and eating tons of Indian food - I remember leaving thinking how much fun it would be to have her on our team and hoping we would be close friends. I am so happy that we did and for the times we shared together.
One of my favorite memories with her was on the Silver Lake ski trip. We both had left the slopes early and decided to get in a workout. But, when we got to the gym, we saw Miss Congeniality was on and decided we had to watch it. So for 2 hours on the treadmill we slowly walked side by side while laughing along to Sandra Bullock. I don't think I ever appreciated that movie as much as when I watched it with Emily - she found joy everywhere and brought positivity and happiness to all of us around her. 
I was also always blown away by Emily's love for learning. Every time we met, she would have so many new things to share! Whether it was reading and summarizing several books to giving a new talk for Toastmasters, Emily was constantly pushing herself. No matter the challenges she faced, she never ever gave up. She was a fighter and an inspirational example.
I expect to see her everywhere. When I walk around campus, I imagine her waving at me from across Town Square before going on a walk together. At one of her favorite coffee shops in Menlo, I can see her sitting at the table with her latte, updating me about her projects. I still think she'll laugh with me at funny Calvin & Hobbes strips we find. It is hard to realize that these moments won't happen anymore, but I am thankful for her friendship and know she will always be with us. 

Emily and I met in the summer of 2012, when we were interns at Citi. We immediately bonded; we were the minority in the intern class as the only sophomores in a class of juniors, doing our best to keep up while having absolutely no clue what we were doing. That summer, we explored New York together, visiting Six Flags in New Jersey and the Bronx Zoo, and attending dinners and happy hours with our fellow interns. The following summer, as luck would have it, we both ended up accepting internships with Morgan Stanley. This time, though, she was joining their investment banking group in California while I was going to be in New York. The summer kicked off with orientation for all interns in New York, and I recall my excitement at being able to hang out with Emily again, even if for just a week. We went to a small deli and talked about new relationships, career goals, and it was like a year hadn't passed. She soon returned to California to begin her internship, but we stayed in touch through the company chat. I specifically recall spending a Saturday at the office and seeing Emily was online at an absurd hour in the middle of the night on the west coast. We commiserated over spending our weekends in the office, and that small connection immediately brightened my mood. 

In the years that followed, we spent more time apart but any time I was in San Francisco Emily made a point to reach out - to invite me to her housewarming in South Bay, her birthday party at Press Lounge. Emily was always full of energy, eager to meet new people, and made everyone around her feel instantly comfortable. Her incredible positivity and her love for life and others around her will always be how I remember her.  Emily, I am so grateful we crossed paths. Thank you so much for your friendship and I will miss you greatly.

Emily and I were roommates for several years - first during a college seminar to China, and then after graduation in our early twenties. We shared a bathroom, a love of art history, and an encyclopedic memory of Taylor Swift lyrics.

I admired how eagerly Emily sought out experiences to learn and try new things. Stanford packed a tight schedule on our China trip, but she always made sure we had the time to be up to something: Haggling over street food, trying (and failing) to get into a club with a shark tank, sneaking out to get face masks before evening debrief to scare our classmates. Even when we started our new chapter in sleepier Mountain View, she still found time to sign us up for food festivals and craft fairs.

Despite being a voracious learner and a powerhouse financier, she had a surprising capacity for silliness. For my birthday one year, she celebrated by showering me with ping pong balls, which devolved into a ping pong ball fight that took half an hour to resolve. I continued to find those ping pong balls in random corners of the house until I moved out a few years after her.

I’m grateful that I got to share these memories with Emily, and my heart goes out to her family and friends. I send my love to everyone who feels her loss.

I met Emily, in all places, at an investment bank while we were both waiting for the same interview. In an awkwardly quiet room where all of the candidates were sitting alone in silence and eyeing their competition from afar, Emily came up to me and gave me a giant hug. She had remembered me from a few months earlier where we met at the same event for a fleeting second, and she wanted to say hi. She barely knew me, but she instantly made me feel like her best friend. Next thing I know, I’m confiding in her and telling her how nervous I am. Instead of seeing me as her competition or preparing more herself for her own interview, she proceeds to tell me all the reasons why I should be confident. I’m convinced I only got the job because of her. 

Every time I’ve interacted with Emily, no matter how much time had passed in between, I instantly felt like we had been in touch forever. She had this unbelievable warmth — making me feel like I could do anything and left meaningful impressions no matter how short our interaction. 

Emily is truly one of a kind. She was unbelievably intelligent and accomplished herself but even more kind, generous, and supportive of others in helping them achieve their goals and dreams. I’m devastated by Emily’s passing and my heart breaks especially for her family and loved ones. The world was a much better place with her here and she will always be missed deeply.

Emily,

There is not a day that goes by that I don't think of you.  Every time I hear from a female led fund that we looked at together, or from a young woman you inspired through the Distinguished Scholars Program or within Silver Lake, or see my pup playing with one of the excellent toys you bought her (who knew one could buy a Gumby dog toy?), I think of you and smile.  You were such a fighter through it all - this picture reminds me of how you never stopped having courage and being an inspiration to everyone around you.  Silver Lake will never be the same without you but you have touched our lives in a way that none of us who knew you will ever forget.  We love you.  May you rest in eternal peace. 

With fond memories,
Karen

I can no longer remember when I first met Emily - must have been sometime around when we first started at Stanford. Later on I got to know her better through Random Walk Down Wall Street, a sophomore college course, various get togethers throughout undergrad, and then living together in Palo Alto after we started working. 

Emily always carried a beautiful smile and was so full of life.  And her care and willingness to lend a listening ear helped me through various struggles and low points in my early twenties. I will never forget the time when we were so nervous, giggled for ages and finally pulled together enough courage to venture 50 feet outside the house at night together, just to check the mailbox, because we were so scared of a maybe-sketchy-person lurking around the neighborhood; or our laughter filled conversation while Emily devoured her chocolate shaved ice with a big smile on her face, when we met at Chilly & Munch by the San Antonio Caltrain station. I'm extremely lucky to have known Emily. Mr. & Mrs. Tian, I'm so sorry for your loss. 

It’s been a while since I’ve actually talked or seen you, Emily, besides the fleeting posts on facebook. I’m very thankful for having known you at Stanford. You were one of the warmest and kindest souls I have had the privilege of knowing - it’s over a decade ago but I remember you being one of my first friends in a small discussion class (PWR)... you never failed to offer encouragement may it be a smile or kind words. I had such a fear for public speaking and I will always remember how supportive you were in that class. Even after, as we were part of the same AA(SA) bubble, you never fail to be so welcoming and friendly. 

I offer my deepest sympathies to your family as I can only imagine the loss they are feeling at your passing...for your are a one of a kind soul. 

Rest easy, Emily. I’m forever grateful for having known you. 

I was a freshman and Emily was a senior when we met in an art history course at Stanford. We were in the same section, and every week we would gather in front of a single painting and talk about it for 60 minutes. For a quarter we shared so much of the same routine -- smiling at each other at the bike racks and rushing upstairs to the painting where our TA, Grant, had emailed us to meet; taking notes with the stubby orange pencils the museum staff gave us (pens were forbidden); standing side by side at the Cantor lockers retrieving our backpacks after class. It was my first college course and I remember it fondly -- having her company as we tried our best to analyze art for an hour. Who knew we could talk about a fuzzy painting of water for so long! 

Many years later, after we both had graduated, we ran into each other in Menlo Park, and I was so touched she remembered those moments we shared in that section. I was only a freshman to her senior, but she extended her warmth and humility and kindness with just her presence. I will always remember Emily when I see art.

I met Emily in our sophomore year at Stanford through mutual friends in our dorm.  Housing assignments were somewhat random, so it was my great fortune that I was able to meet such a vivacious, intelligent, gorgeous, caring, and humble friend such as Emily.  Some of my fondest memories with her include exploring the Metropolitan Museum of Art, pelting each other with fistful of colors during Holi, and the late-night conversations about love, ambition, politics, and what we expected out of life.  I learned a lot from her over the years, yet I was always amazed and gratified at how easy Emily was to talk to.  With her, even a cynic would view the world in a softer light.  With her, there was never any pretense or fear of showing vulnerability.  
To the Tian family, I am so sorry for your loss.  Emily will always be loved and missed.

I am not quite sure when I met Emily. But I know that whenever I think about my memories of her- she is always beaming at me with a big smile and likely about to give me a big hug.

She and I crossed paths a number of times at Stanford, going to a kpop concert together and seeing each other at school events and around each other’s dorm rooms. We were not very close, but even when we met again after school at Philz in Sunnyvale years later, she greeted me so warmly like no time had passed. At that time, I remember feeling so lucky that someone as amazing as Emily was giving me the time of day. I feel lucky now to have known her at all. This world will miss her light.

Emily and I met in high school at the Bank of America Student Leaders Summit  in Washington DC.  We kept in touch in the months and years after that when she reached out about applying to Stanford – we were so thrilled when Emily got in and came to Stanford. Reading through our old texts back then brought a smile to my face. I remember Emily's warmth, her smile, kindness, and all her enthusiastic questions about life at Stanford. It was such a beautiful gift to have met and known Emily, and to have our memories together at Stanford. It is devastating to lose her so soon – my deepest condolences to Emily's family, friends, and everyone who cherishes her.

Emily was one of those instant friends: that kind of wonderful person who comes into your life, first as a stranger and then becomes, before you even quite realize it, a staple of your life. You skip being acquaintances, dispense with the small talk. You just know when someone is supposed to be your friend.

I feel so fortunate to have had Emily as one of my instant friends. We met in Washington, D.C. in the spring of 2013 as part of the Stanford in Washington program. We lived in a big house in Northwest DC and ate dinner together every night, talking about what we had done that day during our internships and where we might explore the next weekend. And every weekend, that's exactly what we did. We trekked around DC, admired the cherry blossoms, were whisked off to Monticello for a day and even took a weekend trip to New York City. We went to lectures by presidential historians and we went to the symphony. 

We did the big, fancy things that Stanford afforded us but we also did the small things. We watched Game of Thrones and we went to the movies. We drank bad beer in the basement. And for my 21st birthday, Emily bought me pizza, and Taco Bell, and candy, and sent me on a scavenger hunt around our house to find it all. Like I said, she was an instant friend.

We lost touch over the years, as even instant friends can sometimes. It is enormously difficult to learn that she's passed away, not having known that she was sick or struggling. My heart is breaking for her family, her loved ones, and everyone who has been close with her over the past few years — everyone lucky enough to still have had her infectious laugh, her relentlessly positive attitude, and her incredible intellect in their lives. 

I so wish I could tell her all of this instead of sharing it like this, but I can't. I'm lucky to have known Emily and I will never forget her. I'm thinking endlessly of her family and everyone who she loved. 

Emily and I only talked a few times on the phone, but each time, her warmth and kindness made a deep impression on me. 

In our first conversation, we bonded about what a coincidence it was that we studied the same things at Stanford and graduated with the same first job. I also vividly remembered her from attending a finance session she taught at Stanford - I was so impressed that she made time to teach despite her busy work schedule and could immediately tell that she radiated a quiet confidence and brilliant intellect. Although I never got the chance to explicitly tell her, she was a big reason that I chose my first job (it was not really a coincidence) and has been a role model to me for longer than she has known. 

My heart goes out to all those who have known and loved her. 

Working at Silver Lake, I was introduced to a new young lady with the most fantastic sunshine smile, Emily!
Within a short moment of knowing Emily, you soon realize she had a contagious joy for life, embracing every moment, wrapping it all up in love, caring, friendship, compassion for others, and pure brilliance of mind.  Emily possessed an inner warmth that people automatically gravitated towards, resulting in Emily carving a place in so many people's hearts.  A truly unique young lady who will forever be remembered.
A typical Emily moment – we were in the hospital waiting area, a young man walked into our view.  She looked up and said, "he is all alone and looks worried; I have to go and speak with him," and over she went and introduced herself.  They sat together for what must have been 20-30mins.  She learned that this was his first surgery; he was concerned for what was to come, his parents would not be arriving until the next morning, and he was alone.  Without thinking, she had felt his need for a friend.  She had touched another life by her offer of friendship, support, and comforting words, her gift of always giving to others.  So typical of Emily.  She was a human being so full of the joy life brings, and she shared it readily. 
Mr & Mrs Tian, you have my deepest sympathy.


Emily and I met in classic Silicon Valley style. She asked me about cryptocurrency, and our first date began organically at a blockchain / AI conference. The conference was mediocre at best, but became the grandest blessing in disguise. Instead of listening to Tim Draper talk about the state of speculative tech, Emily and I learned more about each other. I loved that she was so naturally curious. Curious about business, the arts, the world – and curious about me. We spent 15 hours together that day, and Emily grew to become my best friend, my psychologist, my strategist, and my hero. She was my partner, and we were a unit.

Emily’s passing is so devastating, but I would relive our story again and again for the significance she brought to my life. Had we never met, I would have never experienced the greatest emotions and moments of my existence so far. Jorge just wouldn't be Jorge without the lessons she taught me, without the values she instilled in me. She once wrote to me that “Even physically apart, with an ocean between us, we're looking out for each other, listening, always helping.” These words grant me some start, of some semblance of catharsis, because I know that her statement now extends to more than just across the Pacific Ocean. Now, an ocean of stars separates us, but I know that we're still looking out for each other.

Perhaps it is strange that even in all this pain there can be a hint of sweetness. I am brought back to when we participated in a water lantern festival, floating lanterns we designed ourselves carrying our hopes and wishes. I like to think that Emily floated to the heavens as gracefully as the lanterns we lit that day, bringing with her the magic we experienced in that tender moment. Life ends, but love doesn't. Lost love is bittersweet. Bitter, because cruel circumstances stole the woman I loved. Sweet, because I know that somewhere beyond the stars, she is watching over me, and that one day, in a perfect moment, we will meet again.


I lived with Emily in 2019. Emily was a special person, full of curiosity, laughter and energy. She always made me think of something new and interesting. I am deeply saddened by her loss. I send you all my love wherever you are. 

Emily and I met in an upper division economics course during our last quarter at Stanford in Spring 2014. She approached me and asked if I wanted to partner with her on a quarter-long group assignment, and boy, am I glad I accepted her kind invitation. I was struck first by her brilliance and intellectual curiosity - I remember thinking that she could have single-handedly pulled the US out of any recession with her solutions to our assignment!

More importantly, I remember her kindness. She had such a warm heart and never failed to acknowledge and highlight her friends' achievements, to send a birthday wish, or to lend an ear when needed. I remember her unwavering optimism and immense zest for life. I remember how quickly she and I became friends and how much I wished I had gotten to know her sooner. I remember feeling so grateful, always, to be able to consider her a close friend.

After college, I moved back to LA, and she stayed in the Bay Area, but we still managed to create so many memories together, as if we were making up for lost time. We hiked in Yosemite, ran across San Francisco in ridiculous outfits, skied in Tahoe during the day and shared delicious homecooked meals with her parents in the evenings, ran a marathon (what a privilege it was to be able to pace her to the finish!), celebrated each other's birthdays, and so much more. Emily always took time to remind me how much she appreciated these experiences. I just hope that she knew how much I valued them as well. I'm so glad we were able to navigate our early and mid-twenties together.

My heart aches for her family and friends, but I trust that we were all made better for having known her. Her brilliance, kindness, and love of life will inspire me always, and I will miss her every day.

I am deeply saddened by the news of Emily’s passing.  As colleagues in different offices, I didn’t see much of Emily, but I am grateful for the few occasions that we were able to meet up in person.   I shall always remember Emily’s amazing spirit, and her incredible strength and courage.  

With heartfelt condolences to Emily’s parents and family, and all who loved her,

Yolande


Emily was my TA for three classes at Stanford including a 2012 SoCo on “Economic Policies of the Presidential Candidates” and did an amazing job. Not only did she push the students to work hard, she pushed them to play hard. Waiting in Dulles Airport for our early morning return flight, most of the students were splayed out in the boarding area because they had all been out most of the night before, but Emily (who had of course led the late-night excursion), was bouncing around dancing to Psy’s Gangnam Style and rallying people to join her showing no tiredness at all.  

She also was the TA for my subsequent freshman seminar and again she was great.  Luckily, she was only a junior so when I thought, “Where can I get another TA as good as Emily?” It dawned on me that she might do it again her senior year despite being incredibly busy, and she agreed.  More importantly, we became friends.

Emily had such a verve for life and will be missed, but we are all enriched for having known her.

I have taught thousands of Stanford students over the last 48 years.  But, Emily Tian was special.  She was smart, funny, considerate, energetic, entirely special.  I first met her in the fall of 2011 as a student in my Random Walk Down Wall Street Sophomore College class.  She had just turned 19.  She was an absolutely outstanding student. The best.  The next year, she was one of the two teaching assistants for my Sophomore College class.  This time it was "The Economic Policies of the Presidential Candidates."  The class traveled to DC, met members of Congress and representatives of both parties.  Once again, Emily was a standout.  She took an upper division finance class from me.  Then, after graduation, we stayed in touch.  In the fall of 2018, she hosted my Random Walk course at Silver Lake, serving as a mentor for my students, seven years her junior.  Later that week, she joined the class for dinner.  A few weeks later, we went to lunch with a colleague of mine, a former Cadence CFO, to discuss her career choices.  On the walk over the Faculty Club, Emily complained of a tingling sensation in her fingers.  Well, we all know the rest.  But, Emily kept her spirits up, she fought as hard as anyone could.  I am probably the age of her grandfather, but I learned a lot from Emily.  She was a role model for me and for anyone facing extreme adversity.  She was so graceful and strong.  She made the lives of so many people richer including her friends and colleagues at Stanford.  We mourn her passing.   But, we were so lucky to know her.  

Emily left a lasting impression on me and all of her friends at Silver Lake. She was inspiring in so many ways- her boundless energy, sense of humor, positive outlook, and commitment to helping others. Never one to stand still, Emily lived her life densely. 

What struck me most was Emily’s positive attitude and her strength. There was never a person, project, or deal where she couldn’t point to the bright side. You could count on Emily to lighten the mood when the team worked late and things were challenging. Emily had a unique reservoir of personal fortitude. Stressful times expose character and Emily’s strength came into clear focus after her diagnosis. She was as brave as anyone I’ve ever met as we spent time talking about resiliency and hope. I was impressed with her inner strength and optimistic outlook despite all the uncertainty associated with her illness.

I hope we will have time to get together in the future and share stories in person. Until then, I thought of the British architect Christopher Wren who passed away in 1723 after designing the Royal Observatory in Greenwich, St. Paul’s Cathedral in London and many other churches and public buildings. He is buried in St. Paul’s Cathedral with an inscription that reads, “If you seek his memorial, look about you.” When I think about Emily’s legacy, I believe it lives on inside each of us. We are Emily’s memorial to each other. Our future actions inspired by her life and the example she set will keep her with us for years to come. 


Emily joined Silver Lake in 2016, and that began a great camaraderie filled with so many wonderful moments.  For now and the sake of simplicity, I will share a favorite fun memory.

In 2017, one of my heroes, cellist Yo-Yo Ma was in town to play for the SF Symphony.  Emily heard I was going to the concert and laughingly told me how envious she was.  

Leading up to the event, I got invited to a meet-and-greet with the musician at the symphony director’s home.  To Emily’s surprise and great joy, my wife Kathy offered Emily her spot.  

Among the symphony folks attending, Emily was the youngest by 20 years.  She brought her bright energy and sparkling personality to an otherwise staid event.   As Yo-Yo noted, she represented Youth that evening among all the mature folk — and that was sorely needed.  

Emily’s beautiful, youthful energy will always be sorely needed and missed.  Best expressed by Yo-Yo Ma’s songs of comfort and hope.
https://yoyoma.lnk.to/songsofcomfortandhope

Emily was an incredible person. Beyond her clearly impressive intellectual talents, I knew her as a friend that you could depend on, explore new adventures with, and as an inspirational role model. 

She was always there for my brother, across all types of situations and conversation topics. She even kept up with his frequent memes, sending her own memes which were delightfully amusing and even funnier. When we navigated ancient temples in a VR studio, and when we fished for bass and cod, her excitement to lead novel experiences was contagious - she made me completely forget that I was seasick. On a more day to day basis, we bonded over business, cooking, and TV shows (Mandalorian, Avatar, and Warrior). She was a fan of Baby Yoda and Snorlitto (Snorlax + Ditto). Emily's work ethic was unparalleled and her determination was resolute. She led by example. Her business judgement was spot on and she always offered me numerous recommendations for self-improvement, sometimes handily summarized in her medium blog. 

Emily was an anchor to my brother and an older sister to me. I will treasure the years that I spent with her.

Emily and I met at Stanford in 2011 as students in the Sophomore College seminar A Random Walk Down Wall Street. We immediately bonded over our budding interest in economics and finance, limitless appreciation of good food, fond memories of old Chinese songs, and more.

Over the past decade, while our lives changed in many ways, Emily’s friendship never wavered. Any time that passed between our conversations disappeared as soon as we started talking. Emily was a perfect friend: quick to provide support yet prepared to ask tough questions, never judgmental, always looking to make people laugh. Emily was the friend who actively brought different groups together so that more people she loved could meet. The friend who always followed through on plans, no matter how busy she was. The friend who was unafraid to be vulnerable and inspired the same in turn. The friend who spoke about everyone based on their best qualities and seemed to have no memory of their worst.

I will always treasure the time we spent together, even as I miss her laugh, her wit, and her fierce determination. Emily’s spirit and memory will continue to live on through all those who have known and loved her, and I am incredibly lucky to count myself as one.


I had the privilege of serving as Emily's mentor under our program at Silver Lake. She was such a warm spirit and was always so fun to talk to and spend time with. I am sure that I learned more from her than she did from me. Her compassion, patience and warmth will stay with me forever. I'm sad I wasn't able to see her more in the pandemic that was the last year. But the last time I saw her she was riding a bike next to me at a Cycle For Survival fundraiser and she was laughing and singing along next to me for an hour while riding a bike. That is the Emily that I will remember. 

Emily and I were classmates at Stanford, and I don't remember when we first met because our college experiences were so intertwined. We shared many of the same economics classes, we worked together as board members of Stanford Finance and Stanford Women in Business, and we were among a handful of students that took a life changing Sophomore College class, A Random Walk Down Wall Street, with Professor John Shoven. In the picture I've shared, it's fitting that Emily is standing at the right hand of John Williams (former President of the Federal Reserve Bank of San Francisco, now President of the  Federal Reserve Bank of New York). I always thought Emily was destined for greatness, and I feel lucky to have spent so much time together. 

Emily was as brilliant, ambitious, and self-assured as she was kind and funny. Naturally, she rose to the top of every class and emerged as a leader for numerous initiatives like the SWIB Fantasy Stock Exchange. She set the standard for excellence, and I learned as much from Emily as I did from my professors or mentors. Whether we were chatting about monetary policy, studying for exams, or planning double dates, Emily always had informed opinions to share and I loved to listen... and debate!

I'll miss her as someone who I thought would be a lifelong thought partner, but mostly I'll miss her friendship, unwavering positivity and infectious laugh. We lost her too soon, but her legacy will live on as we cherish and the memories we created with her. My heart goes out to Emily and all those who love her. 

Someone added, “We should give Emily a job offer, but acknowledge the risk that even though she may be our best associate ever, after two years she might leave to be a Rhodes Scholar, or move overseas to be a travel writer, or any number of other stimulating pursuits.” That conversation among my colleagues is still fresh in my memory 5 years after the day we recruited her to the firm. Who wouldn’t want to have a humble, joyful, intellectual superstar as a colleague? The minute one met Emily they knew something set her apart other than her intellect — it was the wide ranging interests and genuine curiosity that gave us pause, and even a preemptive concern that someone so special might leave us too soon. 

But Emily didn’t leave after two years. What we didn’t know yet about Emily at that time — she maybe didn’t even know fully herself — is that she was also dedicated and resilient. As a fellow college classmate, a colleague, and a friend of Emily’s, I feel privileged to have gotten so many years of knowing her. Though originally I knew her as my wife Marcheta’s mentee in a college club, it soon became clear that we were the ones who had so much to learn from Emily, namely in how she freely and openly loved other people and decided to overcommit to anything she was passionate about. 

We will miss her dearly, but believe God has a good plan and Emily's life plays an important role in that plan. We send our love to her parents, Diane and Michael, and the rest of her family and friends who all have many memories to cherish with Emily.  

— Chip and Marcheta

John 14:27 Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you. Not as the world gives do I give to you. Let not your hearts be troubled, neither let them be afraid.

Picture: Emily front & center in the 2017 ski trip photo among colleagues



I had the absolute pleasure of being friends and colleagues with Emily from when she first joined Silver Lake in 2016. We worked closely together on several investments where she quickly won the respect and appreciation of our management teams through her incredible intelligence and positivity. She was loved by everyone in the office – it was hard not to feed off the positive energy Emily carried with her. Her intellectual curiosity always seemed limitless. After studying new businesses and industries all day, she would carve out time in the evenings to attend lectures at Stanford to expand her knowledge of things that interested her. Among all of Emily’s wonderful qualities, her thoughtfulness and kindness are what I will most remember her for. She genuinely cared about what was going on in other people’s lives and was the first in line to congratulate a big life event, send birthday wishes or a fun holiday gift. To the Tian Family, please accept my deepest condolences. You raised an incredible daughter and I am so grateful to have known her.

Emily was the first person I met at Silver Lake when I was recruiting for the firm. 

It was clear from the moment I met her that she was incredibly bright and thought deeper than most about the "whys" of life / investing. After grilling me for 30 minutes (and thinking I completely botched the interview), she told me she liked my some of my answers and would try to push for me to get a second round. I am forever thankful for that opportunity she gave me.

I didn't get to spend too much time with Emily, but beyond being incredibly bright, it was clear that she was kind and genuinely cared about her colleagues. Even in the midst of what she was going through, she made time to check in on us first years at SL and offer us advice (which I am so grateful for). Last time we spoke, I told her I really looked forward to working with / learning from her when she got back.

My deepest condolences go to her family and friends. 

Emily was the first person I met at Stanford 10 years ago. She was my RoHo during Admit Weekend, and we bonded instantly over high school FBLA and SoCal. After I came to Stanford, our shared interests continued to lead us down similar paths and we often marveled, years later, at how perfectly Stanford had matched us. But I was the real lucky one to have Emily in my life as my original role model and as the big sister I always wish I had. She was my mentor, friend, and constant supporter, even when I moved far away. She always checked in on me. As we grew up, we continued to share our reflections on life, people, art, Ted talks that inspired us and our dreams for the future. She was someone I trusted, admired, and loved and I will miss her so much. 

I remember the day Emily started at Silver Lake. She was a breath of fresh air. I was fortunate enough to be her first admin. She brought with her an eagerness and determination like I’ve never seen before; a hunger to learn, to be challenged and a curious zest for life. We shared so much about food, books, and travel. I was so happy to help her on some pivotal projects for the firm; she was always so passionate and it made my admiration for her grow every day that I worked with her. Emily, I will miss your smile, laughter, brilliance, beauty and all of the rest of you. While our world has lost your heartbeat, the heavens have gained a shining star that will live on forever. To the Tian Family-please accept my deepest condolences. It has been an absolute honor to have met Emily and work alongside her. 

Emily is our “daughter-from-another-mother.”  From the moment Tracy Caroline and Emily met each other at Freshman Orientation they knew they were a fantastic match. Emily brings out some of the best aspects of Caroline, giving her the confidence and support to take risks and learn everything she can. Once Caroline laid eyes on Emily we were dismissed as superfluous.   They took off from the moment we dropped Caroline off, getting up early to practice riding bikes, supporting each other through calculus, exploring the hidden nooks of Stanford. They could glory in all the attributes they shared and treasure all the ways in which they were different. 

During the three years I lived with Emily, she became my closest friend and confidante—the  sister I’d never had. We played tennis together, watched movies and operas and polo matches, dressed up and went out, explored Chicago and Detroit, shared our goals and dreams and heartbreaks and fears every day. She had the best heart. She was the most sympathetic listener. She loved Star Wars and was underwhelmed by Hamilton (though she had the songbook, and played it occasionally on the piano). She ran a full marathon, shortly before being diagnosed. She helped me dispose of a dead rat in our garage (or rather, filmed me while laughing hysterically the entire time). She resisted getting an Instagram account or an iPhone her entire life. She read prolifically. She traveled extensively. She learned constantly. She was silly, and funny, and beautiful, and brilliant, and kind, and loved. She was courageous and strong. She inspires me, and I miss her everyday.

Emily and I were classmates at Stanford and lived together our Junior summers. Emily was petite, brilliant, kind, and mighty. When I picture her, I see her smile and hear her laugh. Emily was often the smartest and most talented person in the room, but she accomplished things quietly and through respect, never bringing a lot of attention on herself. She had this tough mentality, making hard things look easy, whether at work, running marathons, or battling with cancer. The last time I saw Emily in person was on a double date with her boyfriend Jorge. We hadn't seen each other in a long time, but we fell back into each others lives so easily.  My heart breaks for the many who love Emily. Her passing is so unfair and far far too soon.  

All my love,
Julia Schottenstein and Max Segall

OBITUARY

Emily QiMing Tian

August 12, 1992 – March 1, 2021

Fairhaven Memorial Services

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