I am like one of those special cakes featured in a gourmet magazine, where the ingredients list spreads over two pages, and you need a dictionary by your side to look up a few of the more obscure words on the list. I was born in China of an American father and British mother who, years earlier - and separately - had a shared dream to live in China. I grew up with an a-yi (caretaker) from Beijing and while my hair was curly blonde and my "look" definitely Euro-American, my first language was Chinese. People would look at me when I'd be rattling off in Chinese and I could almost hear their thoughts, "What's wrong with this picture?" Growing up speaking like a native, but being made to feel that I look like a Martian.
The Chinese government forbids westerners from attending local public schools, so there was no alternative but to attend international schools in Beijing - and international they were. It was rare to have a class where more than three people were from the same country. So, from the sandbox on up, I've been exposed to classmates and teachers from every corner of the world, who brought a myriad of points-of-view and an equal number of different ways of doing things. When I look back on my school experience, I realize that the diplomatic skills I have, the ability to work cross-culturally, to listen to opposing views in a group, and take the lead in reaching a point of compromise, is no accident. I've been trained for this my whole life.
The worldview that I have, and the aspirations I hold, are also products of the multi-cultural, bilingual life I've led, along with the opportunity to live in one of the fastest-growing economies and rapidly-changing societies in the world.
As a child I had to boil my milk because pasteurized milk wasn't available. We would wait in anticipation for my father's bimonthly trips to Hong Kong, where he'd stock up on things that weren't available locally, like cheese, Cheerios and M&M's. There was only one building in Beijing that was over 15 stories tall until I was eight years old. We had limited access to anything non-Chinese in terms of news, books and TV programming. We had to sign in and sign out when we left our protected compound, and the most international thing about the city was the changing of the flags near Zhongnanhai (the seat of government) to indicate a visiting head of state was present. And in the 16 years I've lived in Beijing I have seen changes of a magnitude that one would expect over 50 years. Particularly with Beijing hosting the Olympics this year, the city has become incredibly international and cosmopolitan. There's nothing one cannot get here now, from imported foods to locally produced goods that suit the rapidly-changing tastes of the domestic population. Every major US and European consumer products company is now in China and producing for the local market. Massive skyscrapers now crowd the city skyline with futuristic architectural marvels, like the "Birds Nest" Stadium, where the opening Olympic events took place, and the Rem Koolhaas-designed CCTV Tower.
So what I've gotten used to, what I've come to expect, and what inspires my own visions and aspirations, is change. I have been an eyewitness to one of the most phenomenal economic miracles of the past few hundred years and I know that this speed and magnitude of change is possible anywhere.
When I set goals in my mind, I never draw a line for the end to possibilities, because I know that this would limit my efforts. When I approach tasks, I know that what is considered impossible, or unattainable, really is possible. If, ten years ago, an action plan had been put together for the Beijing Olympics, everybody would have said their goals were impossible to reach in such a short time. Because I have witnessed this transformation first-hand, I know that it IS possible, and it feeds the motivation in me. The philosopher Seneca once said: "It is not because things are difficult that we do not dare, it is because we do not dare that they are difficult." This means if one is looking at a task, it's not that the thing itself is difficult; it's just that we put a limit on what we think we can achieve. I have stopped myself from setting such a limit.
