For Hao, the most magic of moments came when he learned that the farmers were suddenly allowed to grow what they want. That meant he could put food on his family’s table. Even today, roughly two decades later, the memory of that singular event is both moving and highly personal for Hao.

He recalls the amazement he felt when the country’s domestic “apple” jeans became the Chinese Prada garment of their day. Almost overnight, he says, “the green, black, gray and brown Mao jackets vanished,” only to be replaced by fashions that raised more than a few old-generation eyebrows. “Suddenly we could listen to Taiwanese pop music.”

“At that point,” Hao recalls today, “we knew change was real. In more ways than one.”

Hao’s father, a career customs officer who spoke French, English and Chinese fluently, suddenly died, leaving Hao - as the eldest son - responsible for everything.

“It was …how do you say …a ‘rude awakening’,” Hao says, his eyes misting a bit at the memory.

It was just about that time that Hao’s grandfather offered a bit of advice that Hao recalls even today: He told Hao to “eat foreign rice,” meaning that Hao should find a career that puts him squarely in front of the changes that would be opening China up to international influences. He also told Hao that he absolutely needed a college education to compete.

“He was a very wise man,” Hao says. “Even back then, even though he would not live to see it, he knew my best future would be to get an education and to work with the coming changes rather than (to) run from them.”

So that’s just what he did.

Stepping Into the Future by Stepping Out of The Past

Hao graduated from high school just after the Tiananmen Square protest of 1989, and began selling newspapers, doing odd jobs, accepting manual labor positions, and working at any job that he could find.

Not only did Hao get into college, he earned enough to pay for his tuition and support his family at the same time. And, in doing so, he became “self-sufficient” - a concept that could not even be imagined by prior generations.

Hao notes that “since before I was born, Chinese have been taught to be part of a collective group. You are always part of something else. Now it’s different.”

“Now,” Hao observes, “we Chinese can be individuals. And, we can have individual value.”

That’s something, he says that previous generations couldn’t imagine. Even now, after all the changes that have taken place, Hao says it’s a concept his mother still cannot accept or understand.

During college, Hao finally got his shot at “foreign rice.” He took - and passed - the National Guide License Exam.