Blog

By Nathaniel Wong, a Diamond Bar High graduate, and the 2019 Roy Lim and Gim Oi Wong Scholarship winner as the top high school student.

“America isn’t Congress,” said President Obama. “America isn’t Washington. America is the striving immigrant who starts a business, or the mom who works two low-wage jobs to give her kids a better life.” His potent remark drives home how the struggles of immigration define America.

Starting life anew here is as American as the red, white, and blue of our flag. Our immigrant history stirs pride, but it’s often a  story of many painful endeavors coming before any proud achievements. For me, there lies but a single generation between my comfortable lifestyle and the struggle-filled crusade my grandfather undertook to bring our family to America, a testament to his ceaseless efforts to bring us prosperity and to secure hope for our future.

Feb. 12, 1931, marks the birthdate of my grandfather Roger Wong, 黄振健. He was born in a family of farmers in Gom Benn Village and remained there for his early years. He attended elementary school in Gom Benn. Seeking a better education, he changed schools during junior high to attend an institution in Toisan (台山), passing a rigorous entrance exam. Later, he successfully applied to a school in Guangzhou (广州), moving from village to smalltown to the city life.

Living through World War II left him desperate to find a place with political and economic stability. After Mao Zedong established the People’s Republic of China, my grandfather left for Hong Kong, taking a series of boats and trains. He landed a well-paying architectural job. With a job, my grandfather began to start his own family. He worked long hours to provide for his wife and, eventually, four sons: Larry, Robert, James, and my father Thomas. This was a period of transition, before going to America.

My grandfather left for San Francisco in November of 1968. He held a good job and had already built up his family, so why move again? The turning point for my grandfather was Hong Kong’s 1967 Leftist Riots. Enormous demonstrations and huge strikes took place against Britain’s rule over Hong Kong as a colony. The police faced violence and even terrorisms, resulting in dozens of deaths and hundreds of arrests and injuries. Fearful that the political instability would draw communism from China into Hong Kong, my grandfather and his family set out to seek refuge yet again. With the help of his brother, Gene Chin (a former, longtime president of the Scholarship Fund), he gathered his family and belongings and set off for America.

Initially, my grandfather’s younger sister, Auntie Fong, housed the immigrants. After three months, they moved to Los Angeles, where they lived under the care of Gene Chin, who goes by Uncle Art. Unlike  their time in Hong Kong, transition into life in America was not so simple. Learning English from scratch at the age of 37 was no simple task. It was extremely difficult to find a steady job. My grandfather changed jobs often, working as a waiter or cook in Chinese restaurants. My grandmother worked as a seamstress. Living expenses posed a huge problem. Food was not always guaranteed, much came from the restaurant’s leftovers; clothing was rarely bought, only handed down; public transit, if not walking, served as the most common form of transportation.

Hope arrived in the early spring of 1973. my grandfather was offered a job in San Francisco as an architectural draftsman. He begrudgingly left his family in Los Angeles. From there, he could make the money to pay living expenses, for his children’s education — for his family’s future.

Over half a century has passed since my grandfather came to America. Almost 70 years have passed since he left his birthplace. Motivated first by educational ambition, then a search for stability in a world rocked by disorder, he strived to take a firm grasp over his future. My grandfather Roger Wong found his refuge in the land of the free and the home of the brave, here in America.