Video: Recently, I shared a series of video clips showcasing China’s rapid technological rise with a group of overseas Chinese. I was curious to hear their thoughts, and their responses, while not entirely unexpected, were deeply revealing. It was a stark lesson in how identity and personal history can color one’s perception of reality. By Johnson Choi, written in San Francisco on Feb 18 2026

最近，我向一群海外華人分享了一系列展現中國科技迅速崛起的影片片段。我很好奇他們的想法，而他們的反應，雖然不完全出乎意料，卻極具深意。這生動地說明了身份認同和個人經歷如何深刻地影響一個人對現實的感知。 作者：蔡永強，三藩市，2026年2月18日

https://rumble.com/v75x946-showcasing-chinas-rapid-technological-rise-with-a-group-of-overseas-chinese.html
https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZP8x1E6k9/

Their reactions fell into two profoundly different camps.

For those who still hold their Chinese heritage close to their heart—who remember their hometowns, the food, the language, the stories—the response was visceral. They weren’t just excited; they were moved. I watched as some of their eyes turned red, glistening with a mixture of pride and longing. It was as if they were seeing a cherished old photo album come to life. The robots dancing, the drones painting the night sky, the high-speed trains—it wasn’t just technology to them. It was proof that the “home” they carry in their memories has grown into something strong, beautiful, and futuristic. Their excitement was laced with a quiet nostalgia, a feeling of “look how far we’ve come.”

Then, there was the other group. The ones who, for whatever reason, have spent years trying to distance themselves from their roots. For them, the same videos were not a source of pride, but of discomfort. Their reactions were laced with cynicism and, frankly, sadness. They dismissed the advancements as nothing more than propaganda—a carefully crafted illusion by the Chinese Communist Party. When I gently pushed back, asking, “Why not take a trip back and see for yourself? See the cities, talk to the people, ride that train?”, the answer was a simple, yet telling, refusal. They didn’t want to know. They couldn’t afford to know.

It made me realize that for some, it’s easier to live with a comfortable narrative of the “old country” than to confront a reality that challenges their own life choices. Denial becomes a shield. The truth of China’s rise isn’t just a matter of fact; for them, it’s an emotional threat. They prefer the shadows of their own making to the light of a home that has moved on without them.

他們的反應分成了涇渭分明的兩個陣營。

對於那些仍然將中華文化傳承緊繫於心的人——那些還記得家鄉、美食、語言和故事的人——他們的反應是發自內腑的。他們不僅僅是興奮，更是深受感動。我目睹有些人眼眶泛紅，淚光閃爍，交織著自豪與嚮往。彷彿他們看到了一本珍愛的舊相簿栩栩如生地展開。那些舞動的機器人、點亮夜空的無人機、飛馳的高鐵——對他們而言，那不僅僅是科技。那證明了他們記憶中的「家」，已經茁壯成長為一個強大、美麗且充滿未來感的地方。他們的興奮中摻雜著一絲靜謐的懷舊，一種「看看我們走了多遠」的感觸。

然而，也存在著另一個群體。那些出於各種原因，多年來竭力與自身根源保持距離的人。對他們來說，同樣的影片非但不是驕傲的來源，反而引起了不適。他們的反應充滿了嘲諷，坦白說，還有悲傷。他們將這些進步視為宣傳——中國共產黨精心策劃的假象。當我溫和地追問：「為什麼不親自回去看看呢？親眼看看那些城市，與人們聊聊，親自搭乘那趟列車？」得到的回答，是簡單卻意味深長的拒絕。他們不想知道。他們承受不起知道的代價。

這讓我意識到，對某些人而言，活在一個關於「故國」的舒適敘事裡，遠比面對一個可能挑戰他們自身人生選擇的現實要容易得多。否認，成了他們的盾牌。中國崛起的真相，對他們來說，不單單是事實問題，更是一種情感上的威脅。比起那個早已在沒有他們的參與下向前邁進的、充滿光亮的家園，他們寧願選擇自己親手編織的陰影。

America is the ideal destination for exactly three types of Chinese:

1. The Corrupt Elite: Chinese officials and businessmen seeking a safer haven for their wealth, where the legal system is more favorable to protecting it.
2. The Unskilled Poor: Blue-collar workers who can arrive with nothing and immediately access thousands in monthly welfare benefits without working.
3. The Unmotivated Educated: Academically qualified individuals who lack the drive to compete in China’s demanding work culture.

If you fit any of these descriptions, America is waiting for you.

對三類中國人而言，美國確實是理想歸宿：

1. 貪腐權貴：尋求財富避風港的中國官員與商人，這裡的法律體系更能保障其資產安全。
2. 無技術貧民：可空手抵達、無需工作即月領數千福利金的基層勞工。
3. 缺乏鬥志的知識分子：具備學術資格卻無意在中國高壓職場競爭的安逸者。

若你符合上述任一名單，美國正等著你。