By Thomas Chang, the 2018 and 2019 Ron Chin Scholarship winner, a UCLA graduate computer science student.
My grandfather, Wing Gun Wong, was born on March 3, 1927. He was elusive about his upbringing. What we know is that he was a mature kid growing up in Gom Benn with a strong work ethic. He labored on a family farm into his 20s. Then he immigrated to America in the late 1940s, never to return. One of his greatest regrets was leaving his mother behind. Nevertheless he knew America held a brighter future for him.
Coming to America, my grandfather worked in Chinese restaurants as a dishwasher and later as a cook. When he reached his 30s, he wed my grandmother, Ngut Ngor, in Hong Kong, in an arranged marriage. In the years after returning to America, they had two children: my mother, Shirley, and my uncle, Danny.
Like many other immigrants, my grandparents struggled financially. My grandma recounts one time they had to sell most of their belongings to pay the rent. When my mother was young, my grandfather was so focused on work that he rarely interacted with her. Still, he would often express his affection by leaving candy on the dining room table before leaving for work, which my mother and uncle would discover upon waking up. My grandma says that despite working long hours and seeing so little of his family, my grandfather always maintained his cheerfulness.
There were other hardships. When my great-grandmother fell seriously ill in China, it was the only time my grandfather considered going back. But because of their finances he couldn’t return. When my grandfather received news that his mother had passed away, my grandmother would often see him crying late at night.
As time went on, my grandfather saved up enough money to begin his own laundry business in Los Angeles on Maple Street. He ran his business for about 13 years, allowing him to save money to support my mother and uncle’s education. My grandmother remembers this as their happiest when they were enjoying life rather than enduring it.
Then a fire burned down his laundry. He found a job as a butcher in Chinatown, then a variety of other jobs before his retirement. By the time that I was born, our family’s finances had improved. We were by no means wealthy, but at least we were not afraid we wouldn’t have enough to pay the rent.
My grandfather passed away when I was young, March 25, 2001. I have few memories of him. In the time I knew him, he was sick and confined to his bed. My family would visit every week, and I would sit by his bedside. I could not speak Cantonese, and he could not speak much English, but we always had a good time together. We loved playing simple games together, like tic-tac-toe, and he would always let me win and then act surprised that I had beaten him.
Now that I am older, his story inspires me. I am finishing my education and will begin my own life following in his footsteps. Had he not endured so much and raised our family here, I would not be where I am today.
