While the problems of senior citizens are just beginning to emerge in Taiwan, half a world away in the United States there have long been thousands of elderly Taiwanese who have crossed the vast oceans to pass their remaining days with relatives. Are their lives going well? What lessons can their experiences provide for senior citizens in Taiwan?
On the outskirts of Foster City, which lies south of the San Francisco Bay, there is a small shopping center off of Highway 101 which houses Chinese supermarkets, Cantonese restaurants and a Sheng Chi bakery from Taiwan. Each morning at a little after eight o'clock, the elderly Mr. Chen arrives after a half-hour walk from his home, followed shortly by Mr. Liu, who shows up in a red sedan. Both of these elderly gentlemen are retired military men, and although they have lived in the US for many years, they still take a strong interest in Taiwanese politics. They meet at the shopping center every day for coffee, and discussing the headline stories in the World Journal has become the activity they look forward to most in their long days.
This is a small glimpse into the life of elderly Taiwanese in a foreign land. In the United States, whether in Los Angeles, San Francisco, Houston or New York, there are increasing numbers of Taiwanese senior citizens, making them the largest group of immigrants from Taiwan in the US after graduate students who stay on after completing their degrees and people who attended grade school there. Regrettably, as with other immigrant groups, there has been little systematic study on the assimilation of elderly Taiwanese into American society. Therefore, we can only gain insight into the lives of these senior citizens by listening to their stories.
Deaf, dumb and blind?
Life in a foreign land requires major adjustment. As Taiwanese senior citizens immigrate to the US to live with relatives during their twilight years, this process is filled with tears and struggle, but also brings to light their considerable resourcefulness.
Language is the first obstacle that must be overcome by these senior citizens in adapting to their new environment.
"No matter how good our education, when we first arrive in the US we are all 'deaf, dumb and blind,'" says Lu Kuang-hua, who taught primary school in Taiwan for 40 years, and is now vice chairman of the Chinese Seniors' Association in Milpitas, California.
"The majority of Taiwanese senior citizens in the US come here to live with their grown children, who mostly have master's or PhD degrees, and are 'suburban Chinese.' Because the homes of their children are spread out in middle- and high-class residential areas, unlike members of self-contained urban Chinatowns, elderly Taiwanese suffer great inconvenience if they are unable to communicate in English," says Peter C. Lee, associate vice-president of the Office of Faculty Affairs at San Jose State University in California.
The elderly Mrs. Chou suffered considerable hardship while living in this type of environment. When she first came to the US she lived with her son's family, and while she had thought she might be able to help out her son by taking on some of the household chores, she soon found that the harder she tried, the more trouble she caused. "With my son and daughter-in-law at work during the day, I was left all alone in the large house," recalls Mrs. Chou. "One time my son arranged for a plumber to come by without telling me, and not knowing who he was, I sent him away; another time a teacher called from school to tell us that my grandson was running a fever, and because I could not understand clearly, time was wasted in handling the situation."
From that time on, Mrs. Chou sat at home with nothing to do, afraid to answer the phone or open the door. She was unable to chat with her neighbors, and did not even know what to talk about with her young grandson. This experience taught her that immigrant life can be like a prison sentence.
Of course, when elderly Taiwanese find that after so many years of hard work, they have become helpless in handling their daily lives, it is difficult for them to keep from becoming discouraged. If one knows where to go, however, there are many places in the US which offer free English classes.
Lu Kuang-hua and her husband Wang Yeh-ping, who also pursued a career in education, began taking summer English courses each year at a community college in the US long before they actually immigrated. "Classes at the community college did not require proof of identity or tuition, and because all the teachers were American, we soon learned how to communicate in English," says Wang. Because English is a passport into American society, English classes are a popular attraction in Taiwanese senior citizens' associations.
Who wrote the "Star Spangled Banner"
At the Chinese Culture Center in Houston, there are several English classes each week. A Chinese-American teacher from the Baptist Church of Houston holds up a vegetable and asks "What vegetable is this, and how do you eat it?" One of the elderly ladies sitting at the table says "spinach," and another says "lettuce." One student thinks it is good served cold with sesame seeds sprinkled on top, and another prefers to stir-fry it over a high flame. The sound of Chinese and English intermingle, and the room is filled with laughter.
Ms. Lai is a Chinese-American teacher who works as a volunteer at the Chinese Seniors' Association of Houston. While she does not speak Chinese, she shows great concern for her elderly Taiwanese students. She uses the phrase "real need, real help" in describing her work. "We don't make any demands on our students-when they develop self-confidence, and learn how to go shopping, take busses, write their address, mail letters and do banking on their own, we feel that we have fulfilled our mission," says Lai.
Elderly Mr. Chang, twisting his tongue in the effort of pronunciation, says that he is like most other older foreigners-when he first arrived in the US, he did not even know his ABCs, and it took considerable searching before he found out about this type of English class. After four years here, he has made his way through the beginning and intermediate levels, and is now forging ahead into the advanced class. "Who would have imagined? I never did well in English when I was young, but now, 50 years later and half way around the world, I'm finally getting the hang of it!" says Chang, his smile exposing missing teeth.
Because of the trend toward shrinking benefits for immigrants in the US, for many elderly Taiwanese who have not yet become naturalized American citizens, learning English and passing the citizenship exam is their most urgent task.
"In the past, when people over 70 applied for citizenship they could bring a translator, and even have someone sit in for them on the exam. Now, it's getting more and more difficult, more and more strict," complains the elderly Mr. Lee. The large citizenship English classes are always filled to capacity. "Who said 'Give me liberty, or give me death'?...Who wrote 'The Star Spangled Banner?'" As the teacher goes over the questions in the thick text, the white-haired students sitting below carefully highlight the important points with their pens, as if they were preparing to take college entrance exams.
"Three don'ts" for elderly drivers
Without good English skills, elderly Taiwanese are unable to express themselves or understand what is going on around them. They gradually shut themselves off from the outside world, and begin to lose their interest in life. Moreover, because it is difficult to get around without a car, transportation becomes a vexing problem for elderly immigrants.
"Before I came here, I heard people say that in America, if you don't have a car, you don't have legs. I thought to myself at the time that it couldn't be that serious-after all, I could go anywhere I wanted in Taipei just on my bicycle. I didn't realize that America was so vast" says elderly Mr. Lin of Houston. In the area of Houston, for example, where around 150,000 Taiwanese live, a drive from the Ting Hao shopping complex to the Chinese Culture Center takes 20 minutes in light traffic, the equivalent of trip from Taipei to Taoyuan. Such distances compelled Mr. Lin to make the effort and obtain his first driver's license during his second year in the US.
"At the Chinese Seniors' Association of Houston, the first thing we encourage members to do is become more independent and learn not to rely on their children to ferry them around all the time," says co-president Sun Chao-han, who encourages seniors to carpool and take bus trips together. In this respect, the Association has applied to a bus company for the addition of two new routes and a bus stop at its entrance.
In general, bus drivers in the US are more patient, and elderly passengers are not subjected to the bumpy and aggravating rides they have to put up with on Taiwan's public buses. Nevertheless, resourcefulness and luck are required to handle the unexpected situations that sometimes occur.
Elderly Mr. Chang of Milpitas recalls the time when he went out on a rainy day and took the wrong bus because he could not see the number clearly. When he discovered along the way that the scenery outside was unfamiliar, he began to panic. After mustering his courage, he approached each Asian face he saw, asking "Speak Chinese?" Yet all the Asians on the bus seemed to be either Filipinos or Koreans. "Luckily I was able to find a Japanese person-I grew up in northeastern China, and received a Japanese education. The Japanese I hadn't spoken in decades suddenly came rushing out in a flood, and I was finally able to figure out where I was." Although it was a long time ago, Chang can't help smiling as he recalls his state of panic on that day.
Mrs. Kao, a Taiwanese senior who lives in the city of Cupertino in northern California, was also distressed by her lack of mobility when she first arrived in the US. Her son encouraged her by telling her that if she returned to Taiwan to take driving lessons, and was successful in obtaining her license, he would buy her a Mercedes Benz. Mrs. Kao, whose small stature belies her strong will, did actually obtain her license when she was 65, causing quite a stir at the Pinchiang Driving School. Afterwards, she drove for a full decade before quitting several years ago at the request of her son.
Chang Yun-wen, who was a big hit as Chia Hu-tu on the prime-time drama Bodyguard over a decade ago, is currently serving as a senior vice-president of the Chinese Seniors' Association of Houston. Chang emphasizes that he has "three don'ts" when it comes to driving: don't drive at night, don't drive when it's raining, and don't drive on the freeway. "These 70-year-old bones are too fragile to survive a crash, so driving by these rules is enough for me."
Cheng Chih-tao, former chairman of the Senior Taiwanese Association of Northern California, points out that while driving is divided equally among the sexes in the US, the custom in Taiwan is for the husband to serve as chauffeur. "If the husband passes away first, the wife is left stranded," says Cheng. Women live longer on average than men, and without their husbands to drive them around, widows suffer a drastic reduction in their mobility.
Don't depend on others!
While the US has government-subsidized chauffeur services for senior citizens, elderly Taiwanese immigrants rarely make use of them. Aside from the high cost, they sometimes have trouble expressing where they want to go when faced with English- or Spanish-speaking drivers. Mrs. Ouyang, who suffers from nasopharyngeal carcinoma and has been undergoing cobalt 60 therapy for the last several years, relies on her two sons to take turns driving her.
"America is so big and its freeways so complicated that even we have to spread out a map and plan our route before we dare set out in a car-so how could Mom, who's getting along in years, ever get things straight?" says Mrs. Ouyang's daughter. She admits frankly that this experience has been exhausting, but in consideration of the pain her mother has gone though, she doesn't have the heart to complain.
When sons and daughters are sincere in making allowances for their elderly parents, it is possible for these seniors to lead reasonably happy lives even when faced with considerable language and transportation difficulties. Yet this is hardly the case for all families.
"In America, where individualism is paramount, who has ever heard of the saying, 'Raise children to look after you in old age?' When our sons and daughters have been here for a long time their values naturally begin to differ from ours," points out Chang Te-po, chairman of a Chinese seniors' association in San Francisco. The American nation is founded on independence, self-reliance and the respect for individual freedom and values. Sons and daughters do not feel the obligation to personally care for their elderly parents, and parents likewise do not wish to be a burden on their children. This does not mean that American families are not close, but rather that there are differences between Chinese and American family values.
These differences in values often cause conflicts in the daily lives of immigrant families. Mr. Lee, who works for a computer firm in Silicon Valley, found himself repeating the words "Come on, this America, so don't bother bringing up the way things are done in Taiwan" several times a day when his 70-year-old father came to the US. He takes a self-mocking tone as he describes how "America" practically became a cure-all for handling situations with his father.
"My father constantly called me about small matters, sometimes even phoning me at the office to complain when he had a minor squabble with my wife-it was enough to drive you crazy!" For example, while Saturday is a time when American families clean house and do yardwork, Lee's father would wait like a restless child to be driven to visit a friend who lived 50 miles away. This finally stopped four months after his father arrived in the US, but Lee thereafter became known among his father's friends as "the unfilial son who is not even willing to spend half a day with his father."
"Grandpa, how long are you staying"
Chang Te-pu observes that with the highly competitive nature of American society, even in a prosperous area like Silicon Valley, many layoffs occur when there is a bad business quarter. And with most daughters-in-law working, the demands of elderly parents can become an unbearable burden for their sons.
"It is said that carefree living for the elderly depends on fathers passing on their livelihoods to their sons and women working hard in the home. Things are not even like this in Taiwan anymore, so how could this be so in America?" points out Peter C. Lee, associate vice-president of the Office of Faculty Affairs at San Jose State University.
Even more awkward is the fact that because the immigration process takes years, when Taiwanese seniors finally arrive in America, their grandchildren may already be half-grown. When grandparents they have never seen suddenly appear out of the blue, it is no wonder that they ask questions like "Grandpa, how long are you staying? Why don't you go back to your own home?" This of course leaves these senior citizens feeling even less welcome.
Nevertheless, for most elderly Taiwanese immigrants who have just arrived in the US for their first time, staying with their children is their only option. Because they find that they draw criticism at every move when they stay too long, many Taiwanese seniors give up their hard-won green cards and sullenly return to Taiwan. Still other seniors realize that staying as a guest at their children's homes is not a long-term solution, and that they must eventually learn to become independent. And yet, finding themselves in the midst of an unfamiliar land, where can they go?
Chang Te-pu, for example, purchased a home in a peaceful retirement community in the hills south of San Jose a decade ago for over US$100,000, making him and his wife the first Chinese couple in this exclusive community. As greater numbers of Taiwanese seniors have become familiar with their surroundings, they have begun to move out of their children's homes and buy their own houses nearby.
For many elderly Taiwanese who have pursued careers in the military, civil service or education careers, houses in the US are far from cheap. In Silicon Valley, for example, where real estate prices climbed steadily throughout 1997, a typical home costs anywhere between US$200,000 and US$300,000. Although homes in Houston can be purchased for only US$50,000 or US$60,000, their spacious interiors and large yards can make upkeep difficult. Sun Chao-han of the Chinese Seniors' Association of Houston states that taking care of the lawn alone is a great chore for him and his wife, requiring mowing in the summer, raking in the fall, and watering and fertilizing on a regular basis.
"When the day comes that I can't rake anymore, then I'll move into a retirement condo," says Sun, his earnest tone making it clear that he is not joking.
Retirement condominiums provide elderly Taiwanese with another possible option; and no matter how long the waiting lists grow, there are still many seniors who place all their hopes on this alternative.
The retirement community option
Mr. Lee and his wife were early advocates of the retirement condominium concept in Taiwan, and went on tours of communities in such places as Singapore and mainland prior to their retirement. After a long and careful selection process, they finally settled on Terrace Gardens, a senior housing project in the city of Milpitas in northern California. They placed their names on the waiting list even before construction began, and waited a full six years before finally moving in.
"When relatives first heard that we were moving into a retirement community, they thought it was a sad and disgraceful affair, and even blamed my children for being unfilial," Mrs. Lee recalls with a smile. When relatives later came to visit and saw the orderly rows of two-story condos, with carefree seniors enjoying the beautifully landscaped grounds and recreational facilities, their commiseration turned to envy.
Inside the Lees' unit, the approximately 60-square-foot area is divided into a living room, a bedroom, a kitchen and a bathroom. There is even a small patio. For elderly couples or individuals, this type of arrangement provides the warmth and privacy of home without the noise and bother of children and grandchildren. Because retirement condominiums are only open to seniors who are still able to care for themselves, they are similar in atmosphere to regular condominiums. Contrary to what one might expect, the management of retirement condominiums even put on birthday parties, dances, soir嶪s and other activities to make residents' lives more enjoyable.
In addition, each unit has alarm buttons installed in the bathroom and bedroom. Thus, if any problem occurs, attendants can be summoned at the push of a button. "Attendants are able to assess the situation, follow emergency procedures and call an ambulance-all within ten minutes" says Mrs. Lee. "If I were living with my children, since they're gone during the day there would be nobody there to help me if something happened-so I'm really better cared for here."
Another elderly Taiwanese woman, also surnamed Lee, has arrived at the same destination by a different path. After taking a fall the year before last, she began walking with a cane, and with her children working, she realized that sooner or later the burden of caring for her would be too much for them to handle. When that day arrived, she knew that living in a convalescent home would be her only option.
"If I waited until I had difficulty getting around, leaving my children with no choice but to place me in a convalescent home, that would be putting the burden of unfilial behavior on their shoulders. By choosing to enter a retirement condominium now while I'm still able, and learning how to take care of myself and plan my remaining years, I'm showing consideration for my children. This shows that I can be brave and independent in facing a new stage of my life, and looking at it this way has put my mind at ease."
The way Mrs. Lee sees it, she is fortunate to be in the US without too many relatives around to voice their endless opinions and criticisms. This has allowed her to discuss the matter with her son, calmly weigh the benefits and drawbacks, and make a decision which "while it may not adhere to traditional Chinese concepts of filial piety, is really the best choice for all concerned." For a woman who has spent her whole life following the three Confucian obediences (to father before marriage, to husband after marriage, and to son after husband's death), in her seventies she has finally realized the true value of taking responsibility for her own life." She laughs as she says that she has probably become a typical American senior citizen.
The advantages of apartment mates
Whether there willingly or filled with resentment, those attending the forum are moved by the words of the elderly Mrs. Chou: "When seniors with luggage in hand arrive at retirement condominiums in tears, please do your best to console and encourage them. It's like the first day at kindergarten-you have to go though it, and once it's over things get much better."
The facts prove that retirement condominiums do not have to be places of loneliness and abandonment. On the contrary, they can even open up bright new vistas for seniors in their retirement years.
Tung Chuan-yin is a resident of the Sharpstown Seniors' Apartments in Houston. When asked if he has adapted to living in a retirement community, he answers: "Of course I've adapted. I hear more about seniors who can't adapt to living with their children-people seldom have trouble adapting to life in retirement condos."
Because increasing numbers of East Asian seniors (primarily from Taiwan, Hong Kong, Vietnam and Korea) are moving into these retirement communities, some are coming to be known as "China houses." At the Sharpstown apartments, for example, out of the 200 residents, 150 are Chinese. Everyone enjoys dropping by to say hello, and many pairs of the elderly residents are on excellent terms, making frequents visits to admire each other's flower beds and exchange home-cooked delicacies.
Although it is difficult for seniors not to worry about their health, when they come here at least they don't have the added concern that their ailments will cause irritation to their children. Moreover, life is much easier when one has friends around to provide encouragement and share information on health care and medical treatment.
Help from Uncle Sam
The fact that so many Taiwanese seniors who immigrate to the US are able to move into retirement communities and make homes for themselves is due to the assistance of the SSI program.
SSI is a living subsidy provided by the US government to low- and middle-income senior citizens. As long as their savings are within a fixed amount (US$2000 in California and US$1500 in Texas), and they have no other source of income, all seniors are eligible for this subsidy. The amount of the subsidy varies from state to state-in wealthy California, seniors receive US$500-600 per month, while in Texas they receive only US$300-400. Furthermore, only senior citizens who meet low- and middle-income criteria are eligible to apply for retirement community housing.
According to government regulations, no matter what amount of subsidy seniors receive, retirement communities can only charge them approximately one-third of their income-the remaining costs are covered by Uncle Sam. In the case of Chang Yun-wen, because he and his wife receive a combined monthly subsidy of US$700, they only have to pay US$170 of the US$650 monthly rent. After they pay their utility and phone bills, they have US$400-500 left each month for food and incidentals, which is quite sufficient to live on.
For most senior citizens with small retirement funds and meager savings, SSI is the benefit they appreciate most. Having spent his whole life working in Taiwan's civil service, Mr. Chi received a retirement payment of only NT$2 million. And after supporting his son's move overseas, he had very little left over, "I never thought that after serving my country for my whole life I would have to depend on the American government to support me during my retirement!" he says with a sigh.
Large losses for small gains
And yet, SSI can be both a blessing and a curse, especially for those who are relatively well off.
Chang Tsu-ping, co-president of the Chinese Senior Association of Houston, has lived in the US for many years, and has always earned his own living. He speaks candidly as he describes how many seniors, when applying for SSI, transfer their assets into the names of their children so they can appear penniless and meet low and middle income criteria. Some seniors reason that since they still have savings accounts and retirement funds in Taiwan, it doesn't matter whether or not they have money in their American bank accounts. Nevertheless, as their strength fades with the passing years, they are no longer able to make biannual trips to Taiwan to handle their financial affairs, and the management of their Taiwanese accounts becomes a big problem.
What's more, when seniors make decisions on the division of their assets among their children, they may not intend for their children to make use of them right away. This is less of a problem in Taiwan, where sons and daughters fear criticism from relatives, and are sensitive to social pressure. In the US, however, assets belong to whoever's name they are under, and when children need capital to start a business or buy property and use their parent's savings, they stand on solid ethical and legal ground. Children are also compelled to take this path by the knowledge that with SSI, their parents will never go hungry. And when seniors are "robbed" by their children in this manner, who can they go to with their grievances?
This type of problem has forced old widows to remarry, and turned fathers and sons against each other. And so Chang Te-pu, who has heard of and witnessed many such stories, always warns newcomers not to risk large losses for small gains.
An irresistible attraction
Receiving SSI is truly a thorn in the pride of senior citizens, and many avoid discussing this subject in public. Nevertheless, northern California resident Kao Chin-wu believes that while the several hundred dollars per month in assistance is not so important, the medical insurance and subsidies that come with SSI membership are invaluable to seniors.
Private medical insurance in the US is exorbitant, with coverage for elderly couples costing as much as US$6000-7000 per year. Moreover, not buying insurance is out of the question-with even simple operations costing US$30,000-50,000, one's life savings could be easily exhausted. This is especially true for those who develop serious problems like paralysis or Alzheimer's disease, because average fees for nursing homes are US$30,000 per year. For those with SSI, however, they have only to turn over their full SSI subsidy to the nursing home, and all costs are covered. This is the kind of protection that really matters to Taiwanese seniors.
"Motivated by the need for self-respect, when some people have their SSI applications approved, they foolishly go to the Social Security Bureau and say that they don't need money because they aren't poor, but that they will be happy to accept the medical insurance and subsidies. When this happens, the Social Security Office cancels all of their benefits with the stroke of a pen, and they lose even their eligibility for retirement community housing!" relates Kao Chin-wu. Because of the "high added value" of SSI, it has become an irresistible attraction to Taiwanese seniors.
Nevertheless, SSI criteria are becoming increasingly strict. While in the past anyone with a green card could apply for SSI, it is now necessary to first reside in the US for 3-5 years, and there are even rumors that soon only those with full citizenship will be eligible. Many people are beginning to give up on the idea of helping their elderly parents immigrate, and the days of Taiwanese seniors retiring to the US in large numbers may soon be past.
The nostalgia of separation
It is not hard to see how life could seem ephemeral to elderly Chinese living out their remaining years in a foreign land. And although they may not have been born in Taiwan, with 40 or 50 years of memories from the island, one wonders if miss their lives there.
When asked this question, Chang Yun-wen's wife takes on a dejected look and shakes her head. "It's not that we don't miss it, but what good does it do?" says Chang, looking at his wife with a concerned expression. When they first came to the US in 1980, they still traveled regularly between the US and Taiwan. But quickly becoming used to the open spaces of Texas, "After only our third trip back to Taiwan, we found oursves unaccustomed to living there." Moreover, their three children have all developed strong ties to their adopted country, and in consideration of Chang's major heart surgery and his wife's three strokes, the 16-hour flight back to Taiwan is too much of a strain. For Chang, who has hung a scroll with the Chinese characters for "transient guest" over his doorway, prosperous times are now in the past, and he can only relieve his gloom by contributing his efforts to civic activities or sitting quietly practicing his calligraphy.
Mr. Shu, who has just obtained his US citizenship this year, seems pensive as he accepts the congratulations of his relatives. "On the day I took the oath of citizenship, while reciting the first line about renouncing your original citizenship and pledging allegiance to the United States of America, the eyes of many of the elderly people there filled with tears. If it weren't for strife and instability in our homeland, would it be necessary for us old folks to live under the protection of the America flag?"
Shortly after the Taiwan Straits missile crisis of 1996, Mr. Chang made a trip back to Taiwan to visit old friends. Although he had originally been on very close terms with these friends, their speech now revealed traces of envy. "Hey, you're an American now, you don't have to worry about anything!" These words truly dampened Chang's spirits, and since that time he no longer pesters his wife about making trips back to Taiwan.
Immigration involves more than just geographic relocation--with the passage of time, people undergo mental, emotional and cultural transformations, and the gulf that separates them from their past becomes progressively wider.
And yet, as Chang Te-pu says, "Whether we are happy or sad, our problems will not carry on into the next generation. When our children reach old age, they will pass their retirement years in the American manner. By that time, language barriers, culture clashes, dependence on welfare and even active Chinese seniors' associations will probably all have become things of the past."
While the immigration stories of these Taiwanese seniors seem endless, the full reality of their experiences cannot be expressed in words.
[Picture Caption]
"Don't give in to old age" is the American way. Eighty-year-old Chang Te-pu has taken this message to heart, remaining carefree and independent in spite of his poor health.
As the language barrier is the greatest difficulty for Taiwanese seniors in the US, carrying a dictionary helps put them at ease.
Educating the elderly, step by step, word by word, depends on the efforts of volunteer teachers. This picture shows a beginning English class at the Chinese Seniors' Association of Houston.
Guiding his grandson through unfamiliar streets brings comfort to this elderly immigrant.
Adapting to immigrant life takes independence and tenacity. An elderly woman waits for her bus, determination revealed in her lonely figure.
The well-planned Terrace Gardens in Milpitas is one of the finest retirement communities in the US. Of the 145 current residents, 29 are Chinese.
Mrs. Pan, a resident of a Houston retirement home, beams as she holds up the birthday card made by her grandchildren.
Educating the elderly, step by step, word by word, depends on the efforts of volunteer teachers. This picture shows a beginning English class at the Chinese Seniors' Association of Houston.
Guiding his grandson through unfamiliar streets brings comfort to this elderly immigrant.
Adapting to immigrant life takes independence and tenacity. An elderly woman waits for her bus, determination revealed in her lonely figure.
The well-planned Terrace Gardens in Milpitas is one of the finest retirement communities in the US. Of the 145 current residents, 29 are Chinese.
Mrs. Pan, a resident of a Houston retirement home, beams as she holds up the birthday card made by her grandchildren.
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