亞裔家庭望子成龍，補習班文化傳至美國

On Main Street in Flushing, Queens’s Chinatown, the GPS Academy building announces itself with a sign printed in both English and Chinese, hanging over a crush of bubble-tea shops and souvenir street vendors. Inside, exactly 10 felt pennants adorn the back wall of the main office, bearing the titles “Harvard,” “Yale,” “Princeton” and so on. They seem to wield a hushed influence over the academy’s students, daring them to imagine one day being accepted to such universities. But it’s unlikely that they really need the reminder. They’ve known those names for a long while.

皇后區(qū)唐人街法拉盛的主街上，領航學術補習中心(GPS Academy)的建筑，以擠擠挨挨的珍珠奶茶店和紀念品路邊攤上方的中英雙語標牌宣示自己的存在。建筑內部，不多不少正好十面三角旗裝飾著主辦公室的后壁，上邊分別印有“哈佛”、“耶魯”、“普林斯頓”等字樣。這些旗子似乎在無聲地對補習中心的學生施加影響，問他們是否敢于想象有朝一日被這些大學錄取的情形。不過他們其實并不需要提醒。他們早就已經熟知這些名字。

In the lobby, a lattice of makeshift certificates papers the walls. Each crimson-bordered “GPS Academy Award” boasts a name, almost always Chinese, captioned with the kind of hallmark accomplishment that just about any parent in the area would celebrate (or simply expect) from a child. A perfect SAT score, “Stuyvesant High School,” the name of an Ivy League institution. “That’s what parents are looking for,” says Lawrence Yan, the GPS founder and manager. “The results.”

大廳墻壁上的框框里展示著一些簡易證書。每一張以深紅色鑲邊的“GPS Academy Award”(領航學術補習中心獎狀)上都有一個名字，通常是中文名，并列明了一些標志性的成就，該地區(qū)的任何家長大約都會因為孩子取得那樣的成就而慶祝一番(或者只是期盼)。完美的SAT分數(shù)，“史岱文森高中”(Stuyvesant High School)——一家向常春藤盟校輸送大量學子的機構的名字。“這就是家長們追求的東西，”領航的創(chuàng)始人兼校長顏謙業(yè)(Lawrence Yan)說。“結果。”

GPS Academy is an educational enrichment business that specializes in preparation for standardized tests. Students range from seventh to 12th graders, most of them from immigrant Chinese families. Group test-prep classes like these have become a coming-of-age tradition in Asian immigrant communities, which nurse entire ecosystems of businesses like this one. According to the Bureau of Labor Statistics, a majority of New York City’s 411 prep centers are rooted in Queens and Brooklyn, with over a quarter of them springing up in the past four years alone, most notably in the boroughs’ Asian enclaves of Flushing and Sunset Park in Brooklyn. On the opposite coast, 861 such tutoring centers exist in California’s Orange, Santa Clara and Los Angeles Counties, all heavy with Asian-American families.

領航學術補習中心是一個教育補習公司，專門幫助為標準化考試做準備。學生來自七至十二年級不等，大多出自華裔移民家庭。在亞裔移民社區(qū)里，參加這種集體備考班已經成為成長必修課，領航這樣的公司置身其中的整個生態(tài)系統(tǒng)由此得以形成。美國勞工統(tǒng)計局(Bureau of Labor Statistics)的數(shù)據(jù)顯示，紐約市共有411家備考中心——其中超過四分之一是過去四年間冒出來——一多半都位于皇后區(qū)和布魯克林，尤其是這兩個行政區(qū)的亞裔聚居地：法拉盛和布魯克林的日落公園。在對面的海岸上，加州的奧蘭治縣、圣克拉拉縣和洛杉磯縣，共有861家這樣的輔導中心，那些縣全都是亞裔家庭占比很高的地方。

At GPS, as with its competitors, one of the most popular courses focuses on New York City’s Specialized High School Admissions Test, an entrance requirement for eight of the city’s nine specialized high schools. (LaGuardia High, a performing-arts school, has an audition system.) Less than 20 percent of eighth graders who take the exam clear the minimum score needed to get into a specialized school, including — at the most competitive end — Stuyvesant High School, Bronx High School of Science and Brooklyn Technical High School. A typical summer class for this test at GPS lasts three hours a day, every weekday, and can cost around $1,400. But Yan says virtually all his students get into a specialized high school. He knows this because he hands out Visa gift cards once results come out: $50 for Stuyvesant, $30 for Bronx Science, $20 for the others.

與競爭對手的情況類似，在領航，最受歡迎的課程之一聚焦于紐約市的特殊高中入學考試(Specialized High School Admissions Test)，要進入該市的九所特殊高中就必須過這一關。(表演藝術學校拉瓜迪亞高中[LaGuardia High] 有一套選拔體系。)參加這一考試的八年級學生當中，只有不到20%的人分數(shù)能達到進入一所特殊高中所需的最低標準，其中包括競爭最激烈的史垈文森高中、布朗克斯科學高中(Bronx High School of Science)和布魯克林技術高中(Brooklyn Tech)。在領航，這一考試的夏季考前輔導班通常每個工作日都上課，每天三小時，費用在1400美元左右。不過顏謙業(yè)說，他的學生實際上都進入了特殊高中。他之所以知道，是因為結果一出來他就會送出Visa禮品卡：考取史垈文森高中的，能收到50美元;布朗克斯科學高中，30美元;其他學校則是20美元。

GPS also prepares students for other exams: the SAT and the ACT, Advanced Placement exams, New York Regent Examinations. Its instructors can home in on almost any potential weak spot in a college application — even extracurricular activities and personal statements can be curated with the help of one-on-one college counseling. “You know how a GPS leads you to the place you want to go?” Yan asks. “GPS Academy is basically a place where we fulfill your dreams in terms of education. So we are navigating you to the right place.”

領航還幫助學生準備其他考試：比如SAT和ACT、大學預修課程(Advanced Placement)考試，以及紐約高中會考(New York Regent Examinations)。它的教師幾乎可以針對大學申請中任何潛在的弱項進行輔導——即便課外活動和個人陳述也可以通過一對一的大學入學輔導進行策劃。“你知道GPS導航系統(tǒng)會怎么把你帶到你想去的地方嗎?”顏謙業(yè)問，“領航學術補習中心基本上就是我們在教育方面實現(xiàn)夢想的地方。所以我們是在為你導航，帶你到正確的地方去。”

The GPS staff includes Ivy League alumni and full-time high school teachers; some tutors are both. Yan himself grew up in Flushing, attending the selective Da Vinci Science and Math Institute for high school. As an adult, he worked as a financial analyst until 2011, when, feeling a lack of purpose on Wall Street, he turned to the test-prep industry. “I felt like I was just part of the process,” Yan says about his former career. “But now I feel very proud when my kids get into a top school or get a very high SAT score. I see the results right away, and I feel more in control.” He floods local Chinese radio stations and newspapers with ads for GPS, but he estimates that a majority of his customers arrive through simple word of mouth. “Basically,” he says, “one person gets into Stuyvesant — all his relatives and friends ask where he went for prep.”

領航員工包括常春藤盟校畢業(yè)生和全日制高中教師;一些導師兼具這兩種身份。顏謙業(yè)本人在法拉盛長大，高中上的是擇優(yōu)錄取的達芬奇科學與數(shù)學學院(Da Vinci Science and Math Institute)。長大后，他當上了金融分析師，直至2011年，當時他感到身在華爾街的自己缺少生活目標，于是轉向了備考行業(yè)。“那時我覺得自己只是工序中的一部分，”顏謙業(yè)說起他以前的職業(yè)。“但是現(xiàn)在，當我的孩子們進入一流學?；蛘呷〉梅浅８叩腟AT分數(shù)時，我感到非常自豪。我可以得到立竿見影的結果，感受到了更多的控制權。”他在當?shù)氐闹形膹V播電臺和報紙上為領航做了大量廣告，但他估計大部分客戶都是通過口碑找到他的。“基本上，”他說，“只要有一個孩子進了史岱文森高中(Stuyvesant)，所有的親戚朋友都會來問他是在哪里補習的。”

It was in a GPS Academy class for the city high-school test, three years ago, that Join Wang first met most of his close friends. That group, now juniors at Stuyvesant and Bronx Science, regrouped again this summer for SAT classes. “It’s kind of become a joke: ‘What are you going to do in the summer?’ ‘Go to prep,’” Wang says. “We all go to prep.”

三年前，在領航的紐約高中升學考試輔導班里，卓伊·王(Join Wang)結識了自己大部分最親密的朋友。這個小圈子如今都已經成為史岱文森和布朗克斯科學高中(Bronx Science)的三年級學生，今年夏天，他們又重新聚在一起上SAT備考班。“說起來有點像笑話：‘你們今年夏天打算干點什么?’‘上預備學校，’”卓伊·王說。“我們都上了預備學校。”

Wang’s parents came to the United States from Fujian, China. He says it’s difficult to get them to open up about their past, but he knows his mother came from an affluent family of winemakers, while his dad grew up in the countryside. They started fresh here, teaching themselves English and saving money to help family members follow; now they run a laundromat business in Elmhurst, Queens. This summer, Wang and his two younger brothers shared a room with one bunk bed, taking turns sleeping on the floor’s bamboo mat. His parents were in the other bedroom, with his sister and youngest brother. If test-prep classes were ever a financial burden for them, they never showed it, brushing off Wang’s questions, he says, telling him: “You’re just a little kid. Calm down, and leave the finances to us.”

卓伊·王的父母來自中國福建。他說，很難讓他們暢談自己的過去，但是他知道母親來自一個富裕的酒業(yè)之家，父親則是在農村長大。他們來到美國，一切從零開始，自學英語，攢錢幫助其他家庭成員來到這里;如今他們在皇后區(qū)的艾姆赫斯特經營一家自助洗衣店。在家里，卓伊·王和兩個弟弟住一個房間，屋里只有一張上下鋪的床，這個夏天，三人輪流睡地上的竹席。父母帶著一個弟弟和一個妹妹睡在另一個臥室里。就算備考班對他的父母來說構成了經濟負擔，他們也從沒流露過這種情緒，卓伊·王說，不管自己有什么問題，他們都不理會，只是告訴他：“你還是小孩呢。不要慌，讓我們來操心錢的事。”

Yan says many of his customers struggle financially but will still pay thousands if it helps ensure that their children can get into a prestigious high school, which will, presumably, lead to a prestigious college. “It’s more like a culture thing, you know?” he says. “They would rather not get expensive sneakers, but they will try to put their kids in a very expensive prep school.”

顏謙業(yè)說，他的很多客戶在經濟上都有困難，但是如果有助于確保孩子進入一個有名望的高中，從而有可能進入一個有名望的大學，那么他們仍愿意支付數(shù)以千計的金錢。“這更像是一種文化上的東西，你懂嗎?”他說。“他們寧愿不買昂貴的運動鞋，但他們會盡量讓孩子去上非常昂貴的預備學校。”

Traces of the Asian tutoring industry have emerged in the United States after each wave of immigration from countries like China and South Korea, says Pyong Gap Min, a sociology professor at Queens College in the City University of New York. They began in the 1960s, Min says, after the repeal of longstanding exclusionary immigration laws — but it was in the 1980s that cities like New York first saw a notable presence of supplemental educational centers, following a swell of migration from China, Korea and South Asia. Min considers the test-prep centers of Flushing offshoots of their origin countries’ rigorous “cram schools,” called bǔ xí bān in China and hagwon in South Korea. This rigor is seen as necessary to keep up with national test-based systems like China’s, where a single exam determines university placement. “It’s Confucian to emphasize your children’s education,” Min says. “You go to China, Korea and Taiwan, there’s after-school programs that they transplanted here.”

紐約市立大學(City University of New York)皇后區(qū)學院(Queens College)的社會學教授平甲敏(Pyong Gap Min，音)表示，在中國和韓國等國的多次移民浪潮之后，亞洲輔導行業(yè)的痕跡就出現(xiàn)在了美國。平甲敏稱，它們是在20世紀60年代廢除長期的排外移民法后出現(xiàn)的，不過在20世紀80年代，中國、韓國和南亞移民大量涌入之后，紐約等城市才第一次明顯注意到補充教育中心的存在。平甲敏認為法拉盛的備考中心是那些移民祖國嚴格的“填鴨式學校”的衍生物——在中國叫“補習班”，在韓國叫“補習學校”。這種嚴格的要求被認為是與中國等國以考試為基礎的全國教育體系相一致的必要做法——在中國，一次考試決定能上什么大學。“是儒家在強調孩子的教育，”平甲敏說。“你去中國、韓國和臺灣看看，都有課后班，它們被傳到了這里。”

The preparation certainly pays off; Asian students from varying backgrounds are now a majority in New York’s most competitive public schools. Stuyvesant is three-quarters Asian, and Bronx Science and Brooklyn Tech’s shares are over 60 percent. This has come with its share of controversy; a federal complaint, filed by a coalition of advocacy groups in 2012, argued that the high-stakes, single-exam admissions process has a discriminatory impact on black and Latino children (who may find fewer resources and opportunities to prepare for it), and should consider a wider set of factors, like previous grades, interviews or teacher recommendations. (The Justice Department’s Office of Civil Rights announced that it would open an investigation, though the current status of that investigation is unclear. Only the New York State Legislature — not New York City itself — can change the admissions policy for the schools.)

備考當然是有回報的，來自不同背景的亞裔學生現(xiàn)在在紐約最具競爭力的公立學校里占多數(shù)。在史岱文森高中，四分之三的學生是亞裔，在布朗克斯科學高中和布魯克林技術高中，亞裔學生的比例超過60%。這也引發(fā)了爭議。2012年，一個倡議團體聯(lián)盟提起的聯(lián)邦訴訟聲稱，關系重大的單一考試錄取過程對黑人和拉美裔兒童產生了歧視性影響(他們能找到的備考資源和機會更少)，應該將一系列更廣泛的因素考慮進來，比如之前的成績、面試或教師推薦(司法部[The Justice Department]的民權辦公室[Office of Civil Rights]宣布，它將展開調查，但目前尚不清楚調查的具體情況。只有紐約州的立法機關——而不只是紐約市本身——可以更改學校的招生政策)。

But David Lee — a Brooklyn Technical High School class of 1978 alumnus — argues that students at the three most competitive specialized schools are not necessarily economically privileged: About 40 to 60 percent of them qualify for free or reduced-price lunches. Lee is a leader of Coalition Edu, a group that defends the test-based admissions policy, joining a chorus of former students who say cultural values and an exceptional work ethic have pushed Asians of all income groups to excel in the specialized high school system.

但是，1978年從布魯克林技術高中畢業(yè)的戴維·李(David Lee)說，能上三所競爭力最強的特殊高中的學生，并不一定來自經濟條件優(yōu)越的家庭：他們中大約有40%到60%的人有資格享受免費或減價午餐。戴維·李是捍衛(wèi)以考試為基礎的招生政策的組織聯(lián)合教育聯(lián)盟(Coalition Edu)的領導人之一，該組織和許多從這些特殊高中畢業(yè)的學生都說，文化價值觀和杰出的刻苦工作精神促使來自所有收入階層的亞洲人在特殊高中的系統(tǒng)里表現(xiàn)優(yōu)異。

Jennifer Lee, a professor of sociology at Columbia University, says such perceptions of Asian exceptionalism percolate in both liberal and conservative circles, with conservatives using Asian success as a main point in arguing against affirmative-action policies. But that shouldn’t suggest, she says, that other minorities don’t value hard work or education. She argues in “The Asian American Achievement Paradox,” her 2015 book with Min Zhou, that much of Asian-Americans’ educational attainment actually stems from a hyperselective immigration policy: A 2015 census report found that a majority of Chinese immigrants have college degrees, a distinction matched by fewer than one-third of Americans as a whole and only 16 percent of the population in China itself.

哥倫比亞大學(Columbia University)社會學系教授詹妮弗·李(Jennifer Lee)說，這種亞裔例外論的看法滲透在自由派和保守派的圈子里，保守派把亞裔的成功作為反對平權政策的一個主要論據(jù)。但她說，亞裔的成功并不意味著其他少數(shù)族裔不重視努力工作或教育。她在與周敏(Min Zhou，音)合著、出版于2015年的《亞裔美國人成就悖論》(The Asian American Achievement Paradox)一書中指出，亞裔美國人在教育上的成就實際上源于一種具有高度選拔性的移民政策：2015年的一份人口普查報告發(fā)現(xiàn)，華人移民中多數(shù)擁有大學學位，與之相比，美國全國人口中擁有大學學位的人低于三分之一，而在中國本身只有16%的人口有大學學位。

The fortunes of educated Asian immigrants become what’s known as “ethnic capital,” a stock of knowledge and resources that can trickle down — through networks ranging from test-prep centers to religious institutions to ordinary family and social connections in immigrant enclaves — and benefit less established families as well. According to David Lee, demand for supplemental classes is higher for Asian immigrant families that are not as wealthy: “They’re hungrier,” he says. “They need to have this as a steppingstone.” And since they’re often utterly unfamiliar with the American college-admissions process, having obtained degrees overseas or not at all, test-prep schools can be an essential tool. “So working-class families sacrifice what they have,” he says.

受過高等教育的亞裔移民的際遇已成為所謂的“種族資本”，這是一種可涓滴的知識和資源儲備，通過各種社會網絡——從備考中心到宗教機構，再到移民聚集地區(qū)的普通家庭和社會關系——也惠及了條件不那么好的家庭。據(jù)戴維·李說，對并不富裕的亞裔移民家庭來說，補課的需求更高：“他們有更多的渴求，”他說。“他們需要這種踏腳石。”而且，由于新移民或是在外國獲得學位，或是根本沒有學位，他們對美國大學的錄取過程一無所知，備考學校對他們來說是一個必要的工具。“所以，工薪家庭要為孩子犧牲他們的一切，”他說。

Join Wang still remembers the pressure of the city test in eighth grade, which had everyone competing for admission to Stuyvesant. He felt nervous during the beginning and the end of the exam and believes he was too careless in the middle. Rushing through without checking his work is, he says, “a pretty big problem for me.” Early the next year, when scores were revealed, his middle-school Spanish class became a flurry of children opening letters and discovering their test scores. Wang read “551” on his own letter — just a few points short, he’d later learn, of a score that could have won him a place at Stuyvesant. He was able to hold his tears back until a classmate noticed his downcast face and offered a hug. He politely declined. That’s when the sobs came. “It was kind of like anarchy,” he recalls. “They made sure to give it to us the last class in case this happened.”

卓伊·王仍然記得八年級時參加紐約市特殊高中考試時的壓力，所有想上史岱文森高中的人都要經歷這個競爭。他在考試開始和結束時都很緊張，覺得自己在答題時太粗心了。他說，匆匆忙忙地做題但不檢查自己的答案，“這是我的一個相當大的毛病。”第二年年初考試分數(shù)出來時，他的初中西班牙語課上一群孩子忙著打開信封看自己的考試成績。他在自己收到的信里看到的分數(shù)是“551”，他后來得知，這個分數(shù)比能讓他在史岱文森高中獲得一席之地的分數(shù)低了幾分。他強忍著眼淚，直到一個同學注意到他沮喪的臉，表示想給他一個擁抱。他禮貌地拒絕了，卻再也無法忍住淚水。“當時的情況有點像無政府狀態(tài)，”他回憶道。“學校有意在最后一堂課上把分數(shù)發(fā)給我們，就是為了防止出現(xiàn)這種情況。”

The conversation with his parents that night seemed anticlimactic in comparison. “I got into Bronx Science,” he said, as if confessing to a small disobedience. “Oh, it’s not the end of the world,” his dad responded. But Wang couldn’t help feeling disappointed. “You know, they’re my parents,” he says. “I don’t want to make them sad or anything.”

相比之下，當晚與父母的談話反而顯得容易了。“我進了布朗克斯科學高中，”他說，好像是在承認自己犯了個小錯似的。“哦，這不是世界末日，”他的父親回答道。但卓伊·王仍不免感到有些失望。“這么說吧，他們是我的父母，”他說。“我不想讓他們傷心或怎么地。”

Wang has never thought of his mother and father as “tiger parents,” that stereotype of the cold, disapproving Asian parents who demand success, on threat of denouncing their child as a dishonor to the family. Wang’s parents, he says, just want him to be happy. “But my dad also wants me to get into Harvard, just like every other Asian dad!” he says with a laugh.

卓伊·王從來不覺得他的父母是“虎媽虎爸”，那是一種感情冷淡、總對孩子表示不滿意的亞裔父母的刻板印象，他們用譴責孩子給家庭帶來恥辱的威脅要求孩子成功。卓伊·王說，他的父母只是想讓他快樂。“但我爸也想讓我上哈佛，就像所有其他的亞裔爸爸那樣!”他笑著說。

His comments reflect the unspoken contract that the children of immigrants often perceive: Because our parents sacrificed so much for us, we will always be in their debt. Those expectations weighed heavily over my own hometown, Cupertino, Calif., an affluent suburb full of Asian immigrants working high-skill STEM jobs in Silicon Valley. Local parents poured exorbitant shares of their income into mortgages to secure their children spots in public schools regularly ranked among the nation’s best — and then poured even more into supplementary tutoring classes, music lessons, sports leagues and more.

他的話反映了移民子女常常覺察到存在的一種不成文的契約：因為我們的父母為我們付出了太多，所以我們將永遠在感情上欠他們的債。這些期望在我的老家加州庫比蒂諾(Cupertino)也讓人感到沉重，庫比蒂諾是一個富裕的郊區(qū)，住的都是在硅谷從事科學、技術、工程、數(shù)學(簡稱STEM)這種需要高級技術工作的亞裔移民。為了確保他們的孩子能上當?shù)氐墓W校(這些學校在全國的排名都很靠前)，這里的父母把他們收入中高得離譜的份額花在抵押貸款上，然后還在更多的補習班、音樂課、體育聯(lián)賽，以及更多的課外活動上花大錢。

I did not quite express the same gratitude for this as Wang does. I spent my time fuming over being born into a hypercompetitive bubble and missing out on the “true” high school experience. When the time came for summer SAT classes, I made a point of not paying attention or finishing the homework packets, out of sheer annoyance with my parents. I wished I could just live a “normal” life. But as soon as I escaped the Bay Area and moved to the Midwest, I saw that being normal was never entirely possible for me, whether socially or professionally. “The Asian American Achievement Paradox” touches on this, too: Despite supposedly positive stereotypes of Asians, we still face what Lee calls a “bamboo ceiling,” keeping us from leadership positions and from recognition in more subjective career fields — which tend not to favor a demographic that lacks networking connections and has long been imagined to be uncreative or submissive. This, she says, is why some Asian immigrant parents view their children’s future through such narrow lenses. “In order for their kids to succeed as minorities,” she says, “having the right credentials, scoring well and getting into a top school can achieve mobility in a field where you might be less likely to experience discrimination.”

我并沒有像卓伊·王那樣對父母有同樣的感激之情。我把高中的時間花在生氣上了，我恨自己生在一個超級競爭的泡沫里，沒能經歷“真正的”高中生活。到了上SAT考試的暑期補習班的時候，我故意上課不專心，也故意不完成家庭作業(yè)，這都是為了讓我父母煩惱。我只是希望我能過一種“正常”生活。但當我逃離灣區(qū)，搬到中西部時，我發(fā)現(xiàn)，過正常生活對我來說從來都不那么簡單，無論是在社會上還是在職場上?！秮喴崦绹顺删豌Ｕ摗芬粫袑@個問題也有所觸及：盡管對亞裔人有貌似正面的刻板印象，但我們仍然面臨著詹妮弗·李稱之為“竹子天花板”的情況，讓我們得不到領導崗位，在判斷更主觀的職業(yè)領域得不到承認，這些領域往往對在其中欠缺人際關系的群體不那么歡迎，而且長期以來，亞裔被認為缺少創(chuàng)造力，還唯命是從。詹妮弗·李說，這就是為什么一些亞裔移民父母用非常狹隘的目光來看待他們孩子的未來。“為了讓他們的孩子成為成功的少數(shù)族裔，”她說，“擁有合適的證書，取得良好的成績，進入一所頂尖學校，可以讓人在一個不太可能經歷歧視的領域獲得流動能力。”

There’s also the concept Lee calls “parental bragging rights.” When immigrants move to the United States, she points out, they often experience a drop in status — socially, professionally and legally. Some will never regain that stature, settling over the long term for more menial jobs. But they may attempt to recoup some standing through their children’s success. Chris Kwok, a 1992 Stuyvesant graduate who knows Wang from church, grew up in a working-class family in Flushing; in China, his father had been an engineer, but in Queens, he worked as a blue-collar city contractor, and Kwok’s mother was employed in a garment factory. For his first summer prep class, Kwok recalls: “I made no decision. It was just, ‘This is what you’re doing.’”

還有一個詹妮弗·李稱之為“父母炫耀權利”的概念。她指出，當移民來到美國時，他們通常會在社會上、職業(yè)上和法律上有一種地位下降的感覺。有些人將永遠無法重新獲得他們以前的地位，只能不得不長期從事較為卑微的工作。但是，他們可能試圖通過孩子的成功來挽回一些地位。1991年從史岱文森高中畢業(yè)的克里斯·郭(Chris Kwok)，在教會里認識了卓伊·王?？死锼?middot;郭在法拉盛的一個工人階級家庭長大，他的父親在中國時曾是一名工程師，但在皇后區(qū)，他是紐約市的一名藍領合同工?？死锼?middot;郭的母親在一家服裝廠工作?？死锼?middot;郭回憶說，第一次上暑期預科班，“我沒有做任何決定。父母說，‘這是你要做的事情。’就那么簡單。”

The programs he attended in the late 1980s, he remembers, were “terrible,” but at least half his classmates got into either Stuyvesant or Bronx Science, in part because the classes forced a certain kind of discipline. “My parents spent money that they earned,” he says. “The message is that you’re supposed to be paying attention to studying. If you didn’t, you know, you just felt guilty.”

在他的記憶里，雖然他在1980年代末參加的暑期班“很糟糕”，但至少有一半的同學進了史岱文森高中或布朗克斯科學高中，部分原因是這些課程給學生強加了某種自制力。“我的父母把他們賺來的錢花在我身上，”他說。“所傳遞的信息是，你應該下功夫學習。如果你不下功夫，你知道，你只會感到內疚。”

Now that Wang is halfway through high school, he wonders at times where he will go from there. He admits that he would like to leave New York and try being independent for a while. But, he says, “my No. 1 priority is making my parents happy, because they have done so much for me. After that is what I like.”

現(xiàn)在，卓伊·王的高中已上完一半，他有時會想他下一步會去哪里。他承認他想離開紐約，試著獨立生活一段時間。但他說，“我的首要任務是讓我父母高興，因為他們?yōu)槲腋冻隽诉@么多。那之后，才是做我喜歡的事情。”

On a recent Saturday, Wang was logging in to check his SAT results at a Thai cafe near his house, tapping at the screen as if playing some mobile game. “Oh!” he exclaimed, breaking into a sly smile at the score that emerged. “Checking my answers was so worth it.”

最近的一個周六，卓伊·王正在他家附近的一家泰國咖啡館里登錄查看他的SAT成績，他在手機屏幕上點擊著，就像在某種玩手機游戲。“哦!”他驚呼道，看著眼前的分數(shù)，他露出了狡黠的笑容。“檢查我的答案真值了。”

Was he going to celebrate? Wang wasn’t sure; it might be premature. His parents had already started him on private college counseling. He would have plenty of time to relax and pursue hobbies later, he said — once he had a solid job. I was reminded of a phrase he had recited earlier, one that almost every Chinese child has heard, including me: “Xiān kǔ hòu tián.” First bitter, then sweet.

他要慶祝嗎?卓伊·王不確定，這可能為時尚早。他的父母已經開始掏錢讓他咨詢上私立大學的事兒。他說，等他以后有了一份好工作后，他會有足夠的時間放松，追求業(yè)余愛好。這讓我想起了他之前說過的一句常用語，包括我在內的幾乎每個華人孩子都聽說過：“先苦后甜。”