Women Who Inspire

Wild Women Writing Challenge: Day Three

She grew up in the San Francisco Chinatown projects, a daughter of poor immigrant farmers who spoke no English. Being able to learn English, gain an education and work in the mainstream Western world was a huge generational breakthrough for American Chinese women. Maybe it was this fact, and the fact that she had three children, that she’s a hustler. Or maybe it’s a part of the culture.

The day I was born, she was still at her desk at one of her three jobs. She worked hard, saved, invested, worked and worked and worked. She came from humble beginnings, so naturally, she wanted to have it all.

She always taught me to work hard, make money, save it, invest it, take care of my things. She even had me take inventory during lemonade stands. It was always about being productive and achieving. Nothing was ever good enough. It still isn’t. As much as it hurts to hear her tell me that it’s never good enough, I understand. Especially when looking at how much pain and struggle Chinese people endured for us to be here, I know I should not be taking any of it for granted.

Her childhood was rough, and raising us three kids in our youth was hell, but through it all, she never let it show. She has some of the thickest skin I’ve ever known, but people could mistake it for soft. It’s often seen as a Chinese trait to not talk about things, but rather, internalize them.

I grew up with her always telling me to “be quiet”. Always silencing my voice. Perhaps this is why I’m so outspoken.

She wouldn’t take shit from anyone. Not us little brats, not the banker lady on the phone who got the fees wrong, never anyone who tried to pull a swift scam and certainly not the racist kid in the car next to us who said “ching chong ching”. The look of terror on that pale, teenage face- when she screamed an eloquent combo of profanity in response- was priceless.

Aside from the ability to scare the shit out of a car full of ignorant teenagers, she’s the most generous and big-hearted person I know! She goes out of her way to do everything for everyone. Always thinking about others. She’s the boss that takes charge when anyone needs anything. She gets it handled. Even if she doesn’t really like you! She cares for you as a human being. She always stopped and gave money to the homeless. Maybe because she understood the struggle, and felt their pain.

My mom and I dance to a different beat from the same drum. While she is traditional in many ways, I have lived a life full of rebellion and have a radical mindset. When I was young, she tried to place restrictions on me, more so than the other kids. Perhaps it’s the reason why I started rebelling. I was wild, but I always had her big heart. She taught me how to be selfless. She taught me how to care. And although I’m not the overachieving doctor they dubbed me at birth, I’m figuring out my own ways to heal others.