Because of Aunt Connie
By Zoe Ngan, Fall 2022 Writing Finalist
My Aunt Connie hands me a steamed Shanghainese crab, roe side up. It drips butter, yolky orange, down my fingers — like custard and sweet milk. Somehow I always end up with the bigger piece, because that’s just how Connie is. I feel my tongue sticking to the roof of my mouth, but I don’t know if it’s crab butter, or something more sentimental, like love. I’m not sure there’s a difference.
In 2015, Connie experienced labour exploitation. Her wages were being deducted to finance her employer’s personal spending habits, and she worked 15-hour shifts. Her life was reduced to stacks of greasy dishes, dissolving suds and ratty, overused sponges in a cramped sink. I wanted to help, but what could a 14 year old do — one who still pushed doors that said ‘pull’?
I sat and watched as a family friend, Gwok Wah, stepped in with all her civil litigation expertise. It was all about the paperwork and evidence, because her cracked and bleeding hands wouldn’t hold up.
Connie’s case went to court. She won.
I am here at BYU because I want to, one day, obtain a law degree. I want to help others as Gwok Wah helped Connie, because I grew up knowing that her intervention was reclamation — but also privilege.
Today, I recognise that many people do not have this same privilege. They do not always have a Gwok Wah, sitting on the side, waiting to intervene at the first signs of exploitation. For this, I want to be a friend to those who are unfortunate enough to go through a similar situation. As I volunteered amongst low-income families, I saw desperation and helplessness, but also Hope. I want to contribute to that Hope: by providing legal advice, gathering evidence, representing people in court. I want to be a light — the kind that transforms the dim, fluorescent lights of the exploitative workplace into a light of Hope.
How? I will continue to volunteer, because it helps me to empathize with others. I have enrolled in Social Impact: Do Good Better through the Ballard Center, so I can better learn to help others. I am committed to facilitating relationships that will help me address labour exploitation within a legal sphere. BYU gives me the tools to do so.
When I leave for BYU, Connie hastily shoves a thick, red, wallflower envelope into my hands underneath the scratched kitchen table. In these parts of the world, money is security, and the wad of paper speaks the language of sacrifice. When I step off the plane in a foreign land, in a home that isn’t quite home, my lungs fill with dirt — accompanied by a gritty determination to succeed.
I feel my ribcage cracking under the weight of the thousand thoughts I have to swallow, to make this new life my own. I am privileged enough to have an education. I want to use it.
Why? Because I love, and have been loved in return. Because of my Aunt Connie.