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At the Age of 72, She Left China to Find Freedom in the U.S.
Wang Li, a 72-year-old retired accountant, had made up her mind to flee China. When she reached out to a smuggler for help, he hesitated at first, skeptical of her age. But Wang was determined.
After getting to Latin America, she made her way from Ecuador to the U.S., but first had to navigate the frightening Darién Gap between Colombia and Panama. And she wondered: What if I died en route?
So she wrote a vow expressing her desire to pursue freedom on American soil:
If I were to fall on the route
I would wish to become a piece of soil to fill the hole
Allowing those who come after to walk steadily
If I were to fall in the rainforest
I would wish to be a lofty tree
Shielding those who come after from the wind and rain
Having spent most of her $20,000 in savings, Wang finally reached the Southwest border of the U.S. on Dec. 3, 2023. “Long live freedom!” was her first thought. She was detained, then released. She flew to New York, applied for political asylum, and received her work permit last September.
But surviving as an elderly migrant in New York City is full of challenges.
Living alone, Wang remembered feeling lucky that strangers called an ambulance for her last May when she fainted and fell down the stairs in front of the Queens Public Library in Flushing. Due to her age, she has struggled to find a long-term job.
For a while, she worked at a hand-shredded chicken stall in Flushing, often standing for hours and sometimes lacking the strength needed for the job. “This is a common condition for older people like me,” she said. “Sometimes you just lose hand-grip strength.” She earned just $10 an hour, which amounted to around $900 per month.
But her boss let her go in October as business was slowing down during colder months.
Now, Wang relies on her meager savings and a monthly pension from China of approximately $560 to cover rent and living expenses. She spends $500 on a single room in Flushing, and the rest on food. Apart from receiving free meals at churches every week, she usually buys on-sale groceries. She says buying discounted lotus roots to make her favorite soup was one of her happiest moments in a while.
“I’m already too old to make money here,” Wang said, “ I came here for a revolution.”
Leaving China
Migrants traveling alone to the U.S. are rarely as old as Wang. Elderly migrants typically travel with their families.
The words “Go! Go! Go!” still haunt Wang. She remembers feeling exhausted while crossing the rain forest and losing her way to Panama’s refugee camp, calling it the scariest moment of her long journey north. “They always asked me to be fast, but it’s so hard for me to keep up.”
New York-based human rights activist Wan Yanhai said that newly arrived elderly immigrants face fierce competition for jobs. Meanwhile, housing prices in Flushing have risen to $20 a night for a bed, up from $15 before the pandemic. While the city and some community organizations provide free medical care and meals, elderly are still in a difficult situation.
But in the end, Wan said, it’s all about “what their expectations of life here are.”
Wang said the challenges she faces now are minor compared to her arduous journey. She is already satisfied with her life in Queens, where she can freely pursue her idea of revolution.
Wang used to live with her husband and her son’s family in Shanghai. She took care of their meals and looked after her grandchild.
She discovered the plight of Chinese World War II veterans on China’s internet when online censorship was relatively relaxed before President Xi Jinping came into power in 2012. They had suffered poverty, mass trials, and forced labor after the Communist Party took over in 1949.
She collected oral histories of aging veterans, which led to harassment by government officials. Then, her husband died during the pandemic. The pain made her rethink her future. Having devoted her entire life to family, Wang felt it was time to live for herself and share the stories of Chinese veterans without fear.
After arranging her husband’s funeral and celebrating her mother’s 90th birthday, she began her journey.
Telling Veterans’ Stories
Now, every weekend, and sometimes facing pushback, she sets up a booth with display boards in Flushing, sharing the stories of Chinese veterans. She said that whenever she has money left at the end of the month, she donates it to organizations that cater to them.
“If I could contribute a little to China’s democracy, even if it’s just like the flight of a firefly, I will have done what I wanted to do,” she smiled.
According to a 2022 report by the Center for an Urban Future, immigrant New Yorkers account for 52.2 percent, or 726,000 people, of the city’s population age 65 and over, and they make up 64 percent of older adults in poverty.
Many older immigrants without job histories here lack Social Security. Language barriers also can make it difficult for them to access health care, education and legal assistance.
“It’s not just undocumented older adults, but also anyone who immigrated to the United States as an older adult, even if they’re here legally, has many challenges around,” said Dorian Block, the senior editor at the center.
The Chinese-American Planning Council provides multilingual resources, including senior services, adult-literacy programs and legal assistance — all without inquiring about immigration status. According to Communications Director Alice Du, demand for these programs is rising. As more people seek assistance, waitlists are growing, and expanded resources are urgently needed, she explained via email.
Securing funding remains a challenge. “No one ever gets all the money that they need, but we try to push for more,” said State Sen. John C. Liu, whose district includes Flushing.
Wang is grateful for the help she’s already gotten, but she is concerned about the incoming Trump administration’s stance on immigration. Her court date for her political-asylum application is set for 2027. The hope of bringing her mother to the U.S — if she is ultimately granted a green card — feels distant.
“I don’t regret leaving China. My only concern is for my mother,” she said. While she misses her son, she believes that young people can manage on their own.
When asked if she would risk her life again to walk the dangerous route to the U.S., Wang replied “No” without hesitation. She said she would find another way to reach this “beacon of democracy in the world.”
“I love this land, even though it’s not my motherland,” she said, adding these words will one day be her epitaph in the U.S.