I was four years old the first time I saw fireworks explode across the Fourth of July sky. The noise was so loud I covered my ears, but I couldn’t stop staring as bursts of red and blue lit up the night. Everyone around me was cheering, and even though I didn’t fully understand what we were celebrating, after a year abroad, I found out why.
I spent eighth grade living in Shanghai, China, a cyberpunk city with towering neon skyscrapers, packed sidewalks and subways so full you could barely move. During that year, I learned three things. First, my Chinese skills could use some improvement. Second, navigating a foreign country is a lot harder than it looks. And third, it’s surprisingly easy to forget how lucky you are to live in the U.S. Apparently, it took a full year abroad for me to remember that.
When people talk about the American Dream today, it often sounds outdated — a phrase that belongs to another generation. For me, I didn’t always believe in the American Dream either, but after spending time away from the U.S., I started to see it differently. Even though I now believe in it, I sometimes wonder if the opportunities I had always been taught about actually exist.
I know many people in the U.S. face barriers that make the dream seem impossible. As college tuition continues to rise, healthcare costs grow more crippling and immigration policies stall the lives of many, the path to success begins to feel farther out of reach. Additionally, politics divide the country, and inequality ensures that some are born into wealth while others have to build from nothing.
Many students today think the American Dream is a myth — something people promise but rarely see in real life.
Yes, the U.S. may not be all sunshine and rainbows. Life doesn’t automatically get better the moment you step on American soil. But it is a place where your dreams don’t just live on paper — they’re possible.
My parents grew up in Taiwan before moving to Canada as teenagers to chase a new life far from home. In 2009, the Great Recession hit my family hard, and for the first year of my life, my parents were jobless.
After countless job applications, it finally paid off when my father received a job offer from Nvidia in California. Despite this, my parents were uncertain, to say the least. At the time, Nvidia was one of the worst performers in the information technology sector. My parents made a difficult decision — leaving behind frozen ponds, lifelong friends and every family member who supported them for a country they barely knew. Doing it for a company that looked financially unstable made the decision even harder.
Looking back now, I realize it was much more than a change of address. For my parents, the move wasn’t really a choice — it was a risk. But it gave them the chance to build something bigger than themselves, even when the odds were stacked against them.
Growing up in the U.S. felt like there was always something new to try, see or learn. I spent afternoons shooting hoops in the driveway and climbing the tallest trees I could find.
I loved waving the American flag as I marched in Fourth of July parades and eating PB&J sandwiches after a long day of school. I loved racing my bike down the street before the streetlights came on and hearing the ice cream truck echo through the neighborhood on warm summer afternoons. These are the memories that make me proud to be American.
My parents always told me, “You can become whoever you want to be, as long as you work hard enough.” The first step toward the American Dream is believing it actually exists — something many students struggle with. To be honest, I didn’t either, at least not until I spent a year living in another country.
In China, everything felt structured. People follow a clear, predictable path, and success often means fitting into the system rather than breaking past it. Being there made me realize something I had always taken for granted: in America, I have the chance to become whoever I want to be.
I missed the small things too, like sinking my teeth into a juicy In-N-Out burger and watching the Super Bowl in a packed living room where people cheer so loudly you can’t even hear the TV. My year in China was an incredible experience, but I constantly wanted to return to the U.S.
Although the American Dream isn’t guaranteed, my family’s story proves that it can be real. My parents took a risk on a country they barely knew, starting over with nothing. That risk is the reason I’m able to chase opportunities I could once only imagine.
So while racing toward senior year, college or whatever comes next, take a moment to slow down and look around. Appreciate what you have and the opportunities in front of you. Because in this country, for those willing to put in the work, anything is possible.
