A Little Girl and the Dream

A little girl thought she was going to be a housewife (or maybe a cop if she was lucky). At age of 9, she knew she wasn’t smart enough, pretty enough, nor good enough. Her family once said it would be a blessing to go to college and subsequently obtain a degree. She did not dare to dream. She knew her place. She just kept quiet, worked, tried, worked, and kept going.

Her bedroom was once the living room, the dining room, and the kitchen with a bunk bed shared with family members. She had everything she needed, a tiny apartment ceiling over her head, clothes to wear, and food on the table. That was her American dream.

Somewhere down the line a degree in investment finance was obtained paid for through various part time jobs starting at a young age and financial aid. “Something on paper for potential suitors” her family would say. Follow by a series of roles in brokerage firm, retail banking, asset management, and institutional banking. She always said she got very lucky.

Finally one day, she received a call from her boss outside Grand Central Station. He offered her the opportunity to take her career to the next level. The dream job. “You earned it” he said. Suddenly, everything stopped for a second. She heard the Christmas carols playing in the background and saw the puzzled faces staring at her. She was screaming and laughing in joy and it all felt like a dream. A beautiful dream but a reality.

To the little girl, I want to thank her for not giving up, for her determination, for giving me the opportunity to make bigger dreams.

To her mother, for life and saying things as her way to motivate.

To her boss, thank you for your guidance, support, and believing in me.