By William Cheng, Bloomington

The aroma of jasmine rice hits my face as the hot oil of the fryer splashes on my hand when I toss a few egg rolls in for a customer order. The phone rings again as another customer walks through the door. I motion to them to wait a minute as I pick up the phone, “Hello, China Gate!”

I was a sophomore at the U, it was Friday night and I was juggling the phone, fryer, packing orders, and working out a proof for calculus. I was used to working seven days a week, managing business finances, caring for my younger brother, taking care of my parents, going to college and attempting to have a social life. This had been my life since I could remember. When I was in grade school, my parents had a fast food restaurant in a mall. I would fill soda for customers, standing on a stool, so I could see over the counter.

My parents immigrated to the United States in 1980, opened Jade Garden (what is now Mandarin Kitchen), Chow Mein King and finally, China Gate. Through those decades, they found roots in Minnesota, had two sons and put them through college, traveled the world, made lasting friendships, and bore the ups and downs of marriage.

For the longest time, I absolutely hated working at the restaurant. It was a major annoyance, hindrance, barrier, stupid obligation; but I had no choice, it was the family duty. Not until I got older and started working in corporate America did I begin to truly appreciate that experience and the incredible sacrifices my Mom and Dad endured for over thirty years.

I secretly despised my parents for making me work long hours, every weekend, holidays; without regard for what I wanted. Yes, what I wanted, being a selfish brat growing up in the suburb of Lino Lakes. Fast forward to today, I built a family, a career, friendships, a life. This life I have is built upon the foundation of two immigrants with high school educations and a dream to ensure the next generation has every opportunity to make it, to do better than the prior.

Every day I reach into the tool kit that my parents built for me. It has a dent or two on the outside, plenty of scratches, but it is full of knowledge, love and life lessons. I use it in my day job, being detail-oriented, working hard to ensure deadlines are met, and working well in teams, because it takes a village. You are thinking, “but those are things you learn in life.” Yes, yes they are. My Chinese restaurant education made me who I am today, it is part of my Chinese American story, of how I show up in my career, in life – and I am proud to call it my story.

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