My motivation for JYZU | Jimmy Zhou

Six years - the amount of time it's been since I've had the chance to bond with my vacation, away from their stresses of work and providing for my brother and I. It was the second time in my long-term memory that we had spent time together. But I never blamed them - how could I? There's no way I'd be able to immigrate to a country where I spoke nothing, knew no one, and had nothing, much less raise two children.

When we arrived, we had nothing planned. After landing in Zhongshan, China, we immediately packed ourselves in a small cab, and went to the village my parents had grown up in. Truthfully, I was underwhelmed - beyond the gray skies, stone buildings, and dustiness of the environment, there wasn't much for me there.

My parents took me to places around the village to experience what life was like in a more rural area. During the week, I started to become more and more interested in the culture of my ancestors and the dialect we spoke. The markets were full of life, conversation spontaneously broke out, and the atmosphere was full of spirit and laughter, even beyond midnight. It was so interesting to see how different the culture was; I ended up wanting to stay there for so much longer in hopes of learning more about the daily routines and customs of my ancestors. I vividly remember the night-time dinners - all my parents' friends who still lived in the village would gather and feast in the alleyways of the brightly-lit homes. The chilly breeze, starlight across the night, and the cries of laughter, all are unforgettable moments.

For the first time, I saw how genuinely happy my parents were. Even though the lifestyle was nowhere close to the technology and routines in comparison to our lives in the Bay Area, everybody was happy. Trust was universal, competition was healthy, and they simply lived. If you were to take it for face value, it wouldn't seem like they were sacrificing much at all... in reality, they turned down the comfort of family, friends, and generations of life for even a slimmer of hope in the States. My mom was the first to immigrate - to meet her cousin in Oakland California - for three years without my dad. It breaks my heart to think about the judgment and disclination she almost surely felt - and not just the judgment, but even worse, it was while simultaneously teaching herself the English language through a dictionary.

I can undoubtedly say that my parents, along the other hundreds of thousands of immigrants, were and will always be extremely brave, ambitious, and relentless. Within our trip, I learned a lot more about my parents; it's shocking to think that within one generation our lives could've been so different.

Sure, there are many things I agree and disagree on morally with my parents, but no one is to blame for that. The fact us, differences in culture across the world are different, and neither of our beliefs need to be "correct". I think it's beautiful that we're able to accept this fact and respect one another's beliefs as individuals.