Yanwen’s blog

Yesterday, our Hispanic neighbor had a lively party celebrating Father's Day. Their gatherings are always rich with Mexican culture. Their 9-year-old boy, born and raised in the U.S. like my children, speaks perfect Spanish with his relatives and friends and seems to thoroughly enjoy his Hispanic heritage.

Their celebration brought back memories of gatherings I once attended in Kansas, except that the Chinese children spoke English among themselves, and most of the ABCs (American-born Chinese) couldn't speak Chinese and communicate with their parents in English.

I talked to my sister about this, and she asked why ABCs can't speak Chinese. "It's so easy for them to grow up bilingual," she said. "Why didn't their parents speak Chinese to them?"

I recalled a conversation with a friend when my son was little. He said, "Our children won't go back to China when they grow up. What's the use of learning Chinese?"

I guess there were many Chinese parents who shared this view back then. They had not anticipated the rapid development and incredible changes taking place in China over the past two to three decades.

I shared my observations with my children. My daughter shared this with me, most of the second generation of Korean immigrants can speak Korean. Perhaps Chinese are more eager than others to assimilate.

I believe it is rather short-sighted for first-generation parents to deprive their children of the chance to grow up bilingual. The ability to speak multiple languages can open doors to rich experiences and cultural understanding, vastly enhance cognitive development, and provide more opportunities in today's globalized world, especially when China's economy is too significant to ignore now.

By not encouraging bilingualism, parents are limiting their children's future potential and connection to their heritage. Witnessing my neighbor's celebration of Spanish culture, I was reminded of the richness and the happiness that comes from accepting one's cultural roots and the value of language as a key component of one's identity. In a rapidly globalizing world, the ability to navigate multiple cultures and languages is an invaluable asset.

As we celebrate the diverse tapestry of our communities everywhere, let us be aware of the importance of fostering bilingualism in our children. Also, parents, it’s not just about the usefulness, it’s about honoring where we come from and giving the next generation the chance to know another culture, along with the tools and possibilities to thrive in an interconnected world.

Parents, be far-sighted. Invest in your children's future with more than one language and culture. Bridge the past and present, and enrich their lives in ways that go far beyond language alone. Don't limit your children's future with your limitation.

Happy Father's Day!

There is a Chinese saying about fatherly love, 父爱如山 (fù ài rú shān): A father's love is like a mountain. This saying emphasizes the strength, stability, unspoken presence, and enduring nature of a father's love. It can also imply the height and weight of expectations that society places on fathers.

In America, these expectations often seem more fictional than real, considering the high percentage of fathers who are absent from their children’s lives.

On this Father's Day, should we reconsider the traditional weighty expectations often associated with fatherly love? Instead of idealizing a fatherly love and setting unrealistic expectations for what a father should be, perhaps the best fatherly love is simply being present in your children's lives.

Like children telling fathers:

Be present when I was born;

Be present when I fall;

Be present when I play soccer games;

Be present when I need help or someone to talk to;

Be present when I learn swimming or biking;

Be present when I learn to drive;

Be present when I graduate from high school or college and even beyond.

This consistent presence throughout the growing years helps build a sense of security and stability in a child's life. This is the essence of the fatherly love that a child truly needs.

While the metaphor of a father's love being like a mountain emphasizes strength and stability, it is the consistent everyday presence of a father that truly matters. Fathers don't need to be perfect or extraordinary; their simple presence is enough to profoundly shape and positively impact their children’s lives.

With their simple presence in the children's life, fathers can provide the stability, security, support, and love that their children need to grow and thrive. This fatherly love fosters deeper connections and will leave a lasting positive impact. Ultimately, the most meaningful and money-cant-buy gift a father can give is his time and attention.

Let us celebrate and embrace the power of fatherly presence, understanding that being there—physically and emotionally—is what truly makes a difference in a child’s life.

Friday I overheard a conversation between two retired people:

"Have a nice weekend!"

"Well, every day is a weekend for us."

"Yeah, still some days you feel like Monday."

This exchange intrigued me. How can one feel like it's Monday when retirement dissolves the structured workweek?

I asked around for insights. Some suggested that even in retirement, responsibilities and tasks like appointments can bring stress reminiscent of workdays. Others mentioned commitments, such as social events or volunteering like what I often do, which can be disruptive.

Retirement provides an opportunity to structure our own time, giving us order, stability, and predictability. Our time is either structured by external forces or by ourselves. A typical example of an externally structured life is dedicating a huge portion of your most energetic years to an institution, such as medical school, often extending well into your 30s.

Yesterday, I discussed medical school with a friend from Kansas. Without such institutions managing our time, we must discipline ourselves to achieve comparable accomplishments. A challenge for many indeed.

Some people thrive in a structured environment. I am the opposite. I struggled to sit still through entire classes in elementary school.

Here lies a paradox in our attitude toward structured and unstructured time. On one hand, we desire freedom and spontaneity, longing to control our time. Do anytime we want. We feel constrained if the structure is too tight. On the other hand, we crave structure and order. Predictability reduces anxiety and stress, making daily life manageable and great for maintaining mental well-being.

This love-hate dynamic with structure seems deeply ingrained in our psychology. Retirement allows us to craft a balance, maintaining order and stability while enjoying the freedom of an unstructured life.

Finally, finding the right balance between freedom and structure in retirement can enhance both productivity and physical and mental well-being. It’s essential to create a routine with life stability while allowing the flexibility to enjoy newfound freedom. Embrace this balance so we can lead a fulfilling and satisfying retirement life.

A recent incident made me reflect on the difference between conversation and argument or debate. This is a distinction that seems like common sense but is often overlooked, leading to unpleasant situations.

Conversations and debates differ in their motivations, purposes, moods, and more. A lack of understanding of these differences can lead to misunderstandings, conflicts, and unpleasant outcomes.

First, a conversation, especially one between friends or relatives or in an intimate setting, encourages all parties involved to participate actively and non-aggressively. The aim is to keep the dialogue going and maintain a sense of connection.

Secondly, the goal of conversations, particularly at home, is to exchange information, accommodate different viewpoints respectfully, understand one another, and maintain a harmonious atmosphere. The focus is on mutual understanding and sometimes preventing awkward silences.

Thirdly, the tone of a conversation is generally non-confrontational. It avoids being challenging, belligerent, or aggressive.

In contrast, the goal of a debate or argument is to challenge the other person, your opponent. It aims to prove who is right or wrong, determine a winner or loser, showcase intellectual superiority, or establish dominance in knowledge or power.

Unfortunately, people often slip into debate mode when a conversation is expected in a family or friend gathering. For example, a recent occurrence in which I mentioned to an adult how a relative of mine in his 60s maintained good health by participating in football games once a week for decades. I was emphasizing the importance of regular exercise. However, the other person countered by saying, “Once a week is not enough. He must have good genes for his health.” This response shifted the conversation towards an argument, effectively terminating it with my silence.

Understanding the difference between conversation and debate is crucial for maintaining healthy and productive interactions. When we engage in conversations with the intent to share and understand, rather than to challenge and win, we foster stronger relationships and avoid unnecessary conflicts, especially in a home environment.

By being mindful of our approach, we can create and enjoy more meaningful and peaceful exchanges.

Let us strive to be better conversationalists, learning the art of dialogue. 

Let us control the urge to argue, dominate, and win every battle, especially at home. 

Let us appreciate the peace, richness and harmony that comes from truly listening and understanding one another in simple chats. 

Finally, let us always keep in mind this easily forgotten common-sense: the difference between conversation and debate, chat and argument and choose our words wisely to foster understanding rather than discord, peace rather than conflict.

Two days ago, I read an article by the Founder of Crossover Education. The article starts with a quote from Pixar's "The Incredibles," where Dash, the fastest kid on earth, says, "Everyone is special," which is another way of saying that no one is.

This statement resonates deeply with the current state of our educational systems, where homogenization and standardization have become the norm, whether in the U.S., China, or Chile.

Schools, institutions, parents, and students all believe they are on their own unique paths, even though they follow remarkably similar trajectories. Universities try to attract students by showcasing their unique offerings and special campus experiences, yet they often end up looking no different from each other.

Society's narrow definition of what it means to be special and successful creates a narrow path for everyone to follow, resulting in a heavy blindness and crowd mentality in the minds of our educators and parents alike.

I think it's time to pause and ask ourselves questions like these: why do I need to be special? For what purpose? Am I chasing "special" for the sake of looking "special" to others or following the fashion and trying to look special because that's what people value in me? Am I authentic or losing the real me by pretending to be special? 

In the hot, blind pursuit of looking special, both educators and parents tend to get lost in the direction and lose sight of the larger picture of the child's life journey and the big question regarding the purpose of education.

The purpose of education is to help students find themselves and their own mission in life, help them develop their talents and potential, and equip them with the knowledge and tools to realize their dreams. It is about helping them discover what they truly want from their lives. Being special is really irrelevant to this purpose.

In our quest to make each student appear special, we risk of losing sight of what truly matters in education. Even worse, we encourage students to act and pretend to be special, even though deep inside we know there's nothing special.

Instead of focusing on superficial markers of uniqueness and specialness, we should aim to cultivate environments that allow students to explore their genuine interests and develop their true selves. By doing so, we will create a generation of individuals who are not just superficially special, but deeply fulfilled and authentically unique. It’s time to redefine success in education, focusing on personal growth and meaningful achievements rather than a vain and hollow race for distinction.