My dad is Lin Qiang, nicknamed “Mad Dog of the East Side.” At his peak, he once chased seven people down three whole streets by himself.
My mom is Su Nian, nicknamed “Little Chili Pepper of South Street.” Her specialty is tattoo art, though her phoenixes look like chickens with their feathers all ruffled.
Other parents send their kids to math classes. Mine wanted to take me to get a tattoo and pay their respects to the local gang. Other parents help their kids with homework. Mine don’t even know what a homework notebook looks like.
But this unreliable couple found me by a dumpster on a winter night when it was twelve degrees below zero and took me home.
Years later, I won gold at the International Robotics Competition. A reporter asked who I most wanted to thank.
I said, “I want to thank the person named Lin Qiang who turned over a dumpster that night eighteen years ago.”
My parents are the best parents in the world.
Who says gangsters can’t be top-tier parents?
