I just flew back to China from Bangkok yesterday and immediately headed to the cinema to watch Letters to Grandma.Truth be told, I’d already seen countless spoilers online. But when the old overseas remittance letters appeared on the big screen, tears still welled up in my eyes.
"As the boat sails into night, the bright moon rises over the river, as if I’m gazing at it side by side with you. Though thousands of rivers and mountains separate us, thoughts of you make the distance fade away."
This was a letter Zheng Musheng sent to his wife Ye Shurou from Southeast Asia.After watching the film, one question kept lingering in my mind:Why are more and more Chinese families choosing to head Southeast Asia all over again today?
Of course, they no longer board wooden emigrant ships.Nor do they travel there to toil at dockyards.Instead, they bring their children to international schools in Thailand and Malaysia.It is the same journey to Southeast Asia, yet everything is different from a century ago—and some things have never changed at all.
01 A Single Ticket, Two Generations’ Fates
In the movie, Zheng Musheng set off from Shantou, traveled via Malaysia, and finally reached Siam, modern-day Thailand.Back then, the boat trip from Shantou to Bangkok took a full month and a half.The voyage was fraught with stormy seas, plagues and pirates.Many boarded the ship and never returned home.A parting could easily turn into a permanent goodbye.
By contrast, my flight back from Bangkok yesterday only took two and a half hours.I even made it home in time for dinner.I can’t help but feel a surge of emotion.
A hundred years ago, traveling to Southeast Asia was a desperate gamble with one’s life.Today, it is as simple as buying a plane ticket.
Over the years working in Thailand, I’ve met countless accompanying-study families, most following the same pattern:Mothers live in Bangkok with their children, while fathers stay in China to work.On weekends, a three-hour flight brings the whole family back together again.
It is the same route to Southeast Asia, yet it tells two entirely different stories separated by a hundred years.
02 A Century Ago: Fleeing Southeast Asia to Survive
For Zheng Musheng and his generation, going to Southeast Asia was a matter of survival.In that era, most people barely had enough food to eat.Some fled famine, some escaped wars, and others left to feed their entire families—leaving home was their last resort.
For them, Southeast Asia was never a dream destination. It was a lifeline.Their greatest wish was not to strike it rich, but simply to stay alive.Earn a little money, send it back home, so their parents could eat and their children could receive an education.
That is how the overseas remittance letters came to be.Each letter mailed back to hometowns from Southeast Asia carried not only longing, but the livelihood of an entire family.
Those ancestors crossed vast oceans not to see the world, but to survive.All they fought for was their children’s basic right to live.
03 A Century Later: Traveling Southeast Asia to Give Children More Options
The families I’ve met who bring their kids to study in Thailand are nothing like Zheng Musheng’s generation.They do not leave to make a living, nor to escape hardship, let alone because there are no decent schools back in China.On the contrary, most of them lead comfortable lives in China, with thriving businesses, steady incomes and respectable social standing.Still, they choose to move their children to Thailand. Why?
They want their kids to have more life choices.
I know a mother who had a well-paid, fulfilling career in China. To accompany her child through schooling, she left behind her familiar social circle. Alone in Bangkok, she handles apartment rentals, grocery shopping, school drop-offs and endless administrative school matters single-handedly.When people ask her if it’s worth it, one line she said stuck with me:"I don’t want my child to get a head start in life. I just hope that when they stand at life’s crossroads one day, they will have more choices than I did."
Her words remind me of Zheng Musheng.A hundred years ago, ancestors crossed mountains and seas so their descendants would not go hungry.A hundred years later, we travel overseas to grant our children endless possibilities.Times have changed, and parents’ hopes for their children have shifted along with them.
04 A Six-Year Observation: A Major Shift Among Chinese Families
After six years working in international education, I’ve witnessed a profound transformation in Chinese households.
Ten years ago, parents mostly fixated on questions like:"How do I immigrate?""How can I obtain foreign permanent residency?""How to settle abroad long-term?"
In recent years, however, parents are asking entirely different questions:"What core skills will matter most in the future?""Will AI render my child’s skills obsolete?""How do I cultivate global competitiveness?""How to build an international mindset for my kid?""How can I ensure my child has diverse life options down the line?"
Most of them have no desire to immigrate. Many do not want to leave China at all.They simply want their children to embrace a bigger world.
Having consulted over 1,000 families, I’ve realized:Beneath all parental education anxiety, what families truly pursue is never an international school enrollment, a diploma, or an elite university offer.What they crave above all is their child’s right to choose freely—where to study, where to work, and what kind of life to lead.
Chinese families’ educational goals are undergoing a massive shift.We no longer only aim to raise exam-taking prodigies.We hope to nurture individuals capable of navigating an interconnected global world with ease.
05 True Strength Lies in Having Choices, Not Having None
I am often asked this question:China is growing stronger every year, so why do so many families still choose to send their children abroad, to travel Southeast Asia once more?
The answer is simple to me:True national strength is not forcing everyone to stay in one place.It means you carry the confidence to go wherever life takes you.You can stay in China, or explore the world.You can pursue one education system, or opt for a different path of growth.You can root yourself in Chinese culture, while understanding global perspectives.This power of choice is itself a form of confidence.
A hundred years ago, Chinese people traveled to Southeast Asia with almost no alternatives.Today’s families head there precisely because they now have choices.This is the defining divide between the two generations.
06 From Ye Shurou to Accompanying Mothers: Mothers’ Unwavering Resilience
The movie touched me deeply not only through Zheng Musheng’s story, but also its two remarkable female characters.
Ye Shurou stayed in her hometown alone to raise three children, waiting half her life while safeguarding a chest full of remittance letters from her husband.Xie Nanzhi never married. After Zheng Musheng passed away overseas, she continued writing letters to Ye Shurou in his name for eighteen long years.
A line from the film lingers with me:"Who says a woman’s shoulders are too fragile to bear great weight? A mother’s strength shines just like yours."
This line immediately brought to mind all the accompanying mothers I’ve met in Thailand.Many live in foreign lands alone with their children, managing housing moves, visa renewals, school communications and childhood illnesses without a partner to lean on. They bear every burden and swallow every hardship in silence.Their husbands remain in China to work, so mothers are the ones present for every pivotal milestone of their children’s growth.
In a way, Ye Shurou held her family together a century ago.Today, countless accompanying mothers carry that same weight.Times, nations and education systems have all transformed, yet a parent’s boundless love for their child never wavers.
07 Chinese Is Our Root, English Our Wings
In the film, Zheng Musheng rented a small hostel to gather local children and teach them Chinese.Many of those kids later put down roots across Southeast Asia—building businesses, founding schools, and passing down Chinese language and culture for generations.
I’ve met many overseas Chinese in Thailand over the years. Some no longer speak fluent Mandarin, yet they will proudly tell you:"My grandmother was from Shantou."They never forget their cultural origins, or where their ancestors set off from.
In the movie, learning Chinese rewrote the fate of many migrant laborers’ children.Now I firmly believe:The most competitive children of tomorrow are neither purely China-focused nor fully Westernized.They are young people who understand both China and the wider world.
Chinese is our root, anchoring our identity.English is our wings, letting us travel far and wide.The future belongs to those who can view the world from a Chinese perspective, and understand China through a global lens.
This is why so many families turn to international education.They do not merely aim to improve their children’s English skills—they want to equip them with the power to choose their path in a globalized future.
Closing Thoughts
At the end of the film, elderly Ye Shurou finally visits Bangkok’s Chinatown. She sighs softly:"This place feels just like old Shantou."
Bangkok’s Chinatown remains unchanged, Southeast Asia is still the same region—but China is unrecognizable from what it was a century ago.
Letters to Grandma taught me a profound truth:A hundred years ago, Chinese traveled to Southeast Asia out of desperation, with no other options.A hundred years later, families choose Southeast Asia precisely because they now hold the power to choose.
Zheng Musheng’s generation crossed oceans to win their descendants the basic right to survive.Today’s parents traverse mountains and seas to secure their children the right to choose their own lives.
Between the right to survive and the right to choose lie just two simple words—yet a hundred years of struggle separates them.This, I believe, is the greatest meaning behind a century of striving for Chinese families.
A hundred years ago, parents only hoped their children would never go hungry.A hundred years later, they dream of something greater: that their children will never be trapped within a single predefined life path.
We no longer need to flee our hometowns just to put food on the table.Instead, we actively choose distant lands to help our children witness a bigger world.
That’s all for today.To wrap up, here are four core takeaways from this article:
A century ago, Chinese traveled Southeast Asia to fight for survival; today’s families go there to claim the right of choice.
Behind all parental education anxiety, what families truly seek is not admission to elite schools, but their children’s lifelong power to choose.
From Ye Shurou to modern accompanying mothers, times shift, yet mothers’ quiet resilience remains eternal.
Chinese is our cultural root, English our wings; tomorrow belongs to children who understand both China and the world.
If you’ve watched Letters to Grandma, or are weighing educational paths for your children, feel free to share your thoughts in the comments below.
