Aarp’s aapi staff honor their mothers

Aarp’s aapi staff honor their mothers


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TIFFANY ZHANG Photo courtesy Tiffany Zhang (left) with her mother, Holly Zhang PROGRAM SPECIALIST SAN DIEGO, CALIFORNIA The first things that come to mind when I think of my mom are nuts and


dancing. Let me explain. Some of my AAPI friends joke that Asian parents show their love by making sure you are always full. When I say my mother's love is nuts, I mean that she is


always offering nuts as her unspoken way to show how much she loves me. She offers me a snack bag of nuts to take home after I visit, or she'll hide a bag of emergency nuts in my car in


case I get hungry. Now that I work remotely — sometimes from her home — the sweetest surprise has been the bowl of nuts that would slowly slide over on my desk after a long stretch of


meetings. Then there's dancing. My mom loves to dance — line dancing, salsa dancing, even a few viral TikTok dance trends — and she's always ready to go with a good beat. She


encourages me to stay active as I work from home, always calling or texting to see if I've tried the dance video she sent. My mother reminds me that you can be the most hardworking


person, no matter what skills you do or don't have yet. I have learned that from her journey of immigrating here from China in her early 20s, to pursue her master's degree in


electrical engineering in a language she didn't yet know. The pandemic has not been easy, but from the start, I committed to isolating from others so I could stay connected to my mom


and she could feel comfortable when I visited. We've now had important conversations about everything from race to mental health, and our relationship has deepened. My mom has always


been a beautiful blend of strength, gentleness and fun. She is the most caring person in the room, the first person to ask if you need anything to feel comfortable, the first person to try


and find a solution, and the only one in my family to crack an unexpected joke that has everyone laughing. When this pandemic is eventually over, I hope to continue to have these shared


moments with my mom, learning more about who I am through our bond, finding the little joys in life, and enjoying some good food and dance! HOAN TCHEN Photo courtesy Hoan Tchen of HER


grandmother, Hoa Feng Tchen SENIOR STRATEGIST, DIGITAL PROGRAMMATIC MARKETING FALLS CHURCH, VIRGINIA My paternal grandmother was the only grandparent I ever knew, and I am forever grateful.


She was born and raised in Xiamen, China, in the early 1920s and narrowly escaped with her life during bombings from the Japanese invasion. She made her way to Vietnam as a single mother of


three children, and started her own successful business in a completely new country. She was forced to give up her business as war rippled through Vietnam. She sought out a better future for


her family with her eyes set on the United States. Immigrating to the U.S. in 1986, my grandmother helped raise my older brothers and me while my parents worked two jobs each. She taught us


to be resilient and about the value of hard work, and she emphasized the importance of education—something that females of her generation were denied. My grandmother made sure we would be


proud of our Chinese heritage, and we always celebrated Chinese New Year. I loved preparing food with her for the Dragon Boat Festival. We would wrap zongzi (a sticky rice dumpling), which


is made of pyramid-like-shaped glutinous rice wrapped in bamboo leaves. The zongzi had fillings such as pork, shrimp, mushrooms, chestnuts, mung beans, lotus seeds and other delicious


ingredients. We would steam the zongzi in sets of eight or 10 (always an even number for good luck). The process required days of preparation, but my grandmother emphasized hard work. She


showed us that when you are passionate about what you do, the outcome is always worth it.