My Mother: An Educator at Heart

Raising four children to believe in equality at home is no easy feat.  As children, we were taught that each of us has as much of a say as our parents.  We never doubted it and spoke our mind on everything ranging from setting the maximum number of minutes per telephone call to whether our entire family should immigrate to the United States.   As a parent of three daughters now, I can see how realizing this ideal of family equality came at a big price to my mother, the mediator who had to make sure that we all reached consensus in the end.

We also were encouraged to believe that our extremely busy and successful parents would unconditionally help us with our initiatives whether small or big.  For me, my most demanding request was asking my mother to make me an actress when I was sixteen.  Having immigrated to Scarsdale from Taipei with my family after a family vote on the issue in 1982, I had been dreaming of a way out of the suburbs.  Instead of aiming for college, I decided I would become a Broadway actress, after seeing my first Broadway show, Evita with my father and his former university classmate James Soong, who later formed the People’s First Party.  First, I auditioned for a college program for the gifted at SUNY-Purchase, and then had the audacity to ask my mother if I could drive to the classes, although I didn’t have a license yet and the family shared a small Ford Escort. My mother not only patiently taught me how to drive, but also let me use the family car to drive 40 minutes to the University every Tuesday night until I smashed both bumpers, one at a time.  Then I wanted to learn tap dancing as part of my acting career.  In those pre-Internet days, I looked in the Yellow Pages and drew up a list of every tap dancing instructor from Yonkers to Larchmont. When I presented my mother with this list, she gasped but smiled patiently and asked me to find out by phone the cost and the distance from our home to class.  Finally, my mother drove me to interview three teachers, each of whom offered to teach me individually at more than US$40/hour (my allowance was only $20 per month).  I remember one of the auditions was in Hastings-on-Hudson – a long drive from home, especially on a rainy dark winter night.  My mother made dinner, settled my three siblings at home, drove me to the audition, and then waited for me for two hours.  My mom never complained, but simply waited for me to realize tap dancing was not my mission in life and to drop the idea on my own. She entertained most of our fantasies, just as she never discouraged any of us without reason.

Unconditional love, however, did not mean supporting us on everything.  She made sure we faced the consequences of our action, and let us learn from our own mistakes.  My mother never once asked anyone for a job for any of us, although she helped many of our relatives and children of her friends to find jobs.  And she made sure once we were employed, we helped other people who needed it. 

All my life, my mother was the busiest person I knew because she had the biggest heart.  She loved her ten siblings, her four children, my father and paternal grandmother, and her countless friends.  Every day, she operated like the head of a village – taking care of everybody in her family and her circle of friends who needed to see a doctor, secure a loan for college, or find temporary shelter – there was nothing beyond her reach, capability or understanding.  Compassion is her most important trait.

She was able to accomplish so much because she was also the most capable businesswoman I have ever known, even after my spending fourteen years as a Wall Street investment banker.  She bought and sold, bartered and traded, loaned and leased, all utilizing only the savings from my father’s salary from I.B.M.  After we moved to the US and then my father returned to Taipei, there were two households to provide for at my father’s NT salary (at the then exchange rate of NT$40/US$1) but Mom always made ends meet.  In my freshman year, while my roommate used the first Macintosh I had ever seen, I had to go to the computer lab.  I told her I needed at least an electric typewriter, which cost around $500.  Our shoestring budget did not have enough money for this, but my mother took up part-time work at the White Plains Shopping Mall for two months while my siblings went to high school, just so she could buy me a Smith Corona typewriter before my final exams at Harvard in December of 1985. 

As we grew up and began to raise our own families, we realized Mom was not only hardworking, but also had a keen commercial sense.  At age 60, when her tenant in Taipei was delinquent on his rent for five months in a row, she took over his French restaurant and made it profitable within half a year, although she had never been to France, or even to a French restaurant, in her life. My siblings and I, three bankers and a lawyer, warned her about how hard the restaurant business was.  The restaurant became so popular that she had to close it down during SARS because it was becoming so crowded and she worried about infection.

Most of all, my mother is an educator.  She started out professionally as a high school teacher before she had the four of us and, to this day, we still run into her students.  Five years ago, her business acumen and her educational background finally came together to provide the opportunity of a lifetime.  One of her friends who moved to Hunan to start a bilingual boarding school asked her to join the board.  Having lived in China from 1987-1989 when my father was in charge of IBM’s joint venture with Great Wall in Tianjin, she was excited to be involved in education in the China market and took her responsibilities very seriously.  With her usual determination and grit, she went about the business intensely and systematically.  She traveled to Zhuzhou every month, each time for a week and eventually setting up a home there.  She interviewed every single teacher, administrator and board member, and realized that she could make a contribution.  Again, we warned her as to the risks of working in China, from autocratic officials to demanding parents.  In the belief that the need for education is the same worldwide, and that dedicated teachers and administrators could overcome any difficulties, she not only continued working on the board but also agreed to become its vice chair.  She revamped everything in the school from the quality of the food to the qualifications of the teachers and within three years, the school has gained an enrollment to several thousand students and an endowment that rivals any school in the province. 

Standing at the podium in front of my class at the University of Hong Kong, I think of her patience with all of us and her determination to let us pursue our dreams regardless of the cost.  I realize she has taught us not only to work hard but also to give selflessly.  She is an educator at her best, willing to help us realize our dreams and allowing us to make our mistakes, and all the while, maintaining her values and guiding us at the most crucial moments. With this spirit, she has made the Xiaoxiang Bilingual School a success – just as she has with all her other ventures.  And, at the age of 70, she says her journey has just begun. Who would doubt her?