The "Roots & Bridge" Story

Immigrating to Canada was one of my dreams; becoming a publisher was another. Dreams never die. Sometimes they just sleep, buried deep in your heart, waiting to sprout. For me, that moment came on the evening of the Chinese New Year in 2023. Later that year, I founded my own publishing company: Roots & Bridge, with all the inspiration beginning that night.

I was having dinner with friends who had also come from China. We talked about life in Canada and marvelled at how the freedom here made us feel like fish in water. Many at the table had established their own career. I was the only one with a career background in arts, which everyone found interesting. They joked, "What about you? Don't you want to do something? You could start your own business." 

I paused. Yes! I want to publish good books! So why not a publishing company?

"So, how do you want to name your company?" Some days after that dinner, my wife's question hung in the air, expectant and curious. "Let's call it Roots and Bridge!" I spoke out, my voice carrying a surge of joy. The words felt right like a bridge connecting the past and the future, anchored in the soil of our shared experiences.

But before my wife could respond, her question pushed me into a deep memory. The roots of our journey intertwined with the bridges we had crossed, and suddenly, the name held layers of meaning beyond mere words.

Roots

It all started three years ago, in May 2021, when our family of three moved from China to Toronto, Canada. My wife came to pursue her master's degree, while I took care of the household and our child. At that time, the COVID-19 pandemic was heavily affecting North America, and we went through a 14-day quarantine. Locals found it difficult to purchase supplies and lived monotonous lives since many services were closed, but for our newly arrived family, the novelty outweighed everything. We were pleasantly surprised to find that the milk here was delicious and inexpensive and that everyone drank a lot of coffee, even having a drink called a double-double.

Our exploration radius of the city expanded just as gradually as the reopening of businesses and public spaces during the pandemic. We made a lot of friends. I didn't just warm up to people of a particular ethnicity but was curious about everyone, especially in the beginning, because the beauty of Toronto lies precisely in the cultural diversity brought by immigrants. While my wife attended online classes and studied at home, I took our son, then six, out to play almost every day. At every park, I would chat with anyone who seemed willing to talk to me. Although most people still wore masks outdoors at first, it was still very easy because most people here are very friendly. We exchanged tips on the best spots in Toronto, found out how long we each had been here and where we were from, and talked about what our original countries were like.

These conversations would always come to a point where we shared why we made the move. I noticed that most immigrant friends I knew had some dissatisfaction with their home countries. Indeed, especially for those who immigrated after their thirties, most had already achieved success or were on the rise in their own countries, and coming here meant starting over in their careers, sometimes even having to change career fields. Who would want to endure such hardship if it weren't for the hope of a better life? But everyone's pursuit was completely different: some valued the greater fairness here, some wanted their children to receive a better education, some appreciated the public security or natural environment, and some LGBTQ individuals came to gain equal rights. And what about me? Why did I come here?

I come from a medium-sized city in eastern China, Nanjing, an ancient city that served as the capital for several dynasties. After graduating from university, I stayed there, working in the import industry, sales, and financial magazine journalism. Finally, I chose the publishing industry, where I worked as an editor for ten years.

Before coming to Canada, I hadn't been to many countries. Although I liked reading and watching movies, due to the way information was controlled, my thoughts and knowledge were inevitably confined to the countries that frequently appeared in the news. I seemed to know a great deal about my East Asian neighbours, while small countries on other continents were mostly just names to me. Moving to Canada, I experienced many firsts, like meeting someone from those countries. That summer, a friend lent his son's bike to my son at the school playground. I thanked him and said, "I just arrived from China last month. How about you?" "I'm from Ethiopia. I've been here for five years." "I know your coffee is great!" Out of polite instinct, I wanted to praise his country, but that was all I knew about it. I couldn't even give a second compliment. Similar situations happened repeatedly. This certainly made me feel embarrassed, but I also found great joy in it. I eagerly asked every willing person about his or her country and gradually learned about hobbies, customs, and prejudices. This opened my eyes. Some customs were surprisingly consistent across cultures, while others were astonishingly different.

For example, a friend from Brazil told me he was unaccustomed to Torontonians' “coldness”, as people in Brazil, even when meeting for the first time, are very enthusiastic and engage in a lot of physical contacts, giving hugs, handshakes, and pats on the back. I quickly told him that to Chinese and East Asians, Torontonians appear very warm. We even find it impolite to make direct eye contact, especially with unfamiliar people. A friend from New York added that even though they are close geographically, New Yorkers and Torontonians are quite different. Here, people say "sorry" all the time, seeming very friendly, whereas in New York, people are often too rushed or preoccupied to be polite or patient.
All of this was so fascinating to me that I quickly started to explore this new world as much as possible. Whenever I visit a city, I always go to the local markets or small supermarkets to see how ordinary people live. Then, I visit bookstores to understand their inner worlds. Books reflect readers' cultural tastes and Canadian books are diverse, covering a vast range of topics.

I used to pride myself on being imaginative, my mind being always filled with ideas. But after coming here, I realized that anything I could think of had already been considered and even written into books. Visiting libraries and bookstores became the "Discovery Channel" I watched every day. 

Bridge

Having explored my new friends’ diverse cultural roots and lots of reading material, I developed a genuine curiosity about how immigrants adapt to new cultural environments from their origins. However, before I even realized it myself, my son showed me a specific phenomenon. One day, he asked what we were having for dinner. I replied in Chinese, "Pan-fried salmon, minced meat with tofu. Are you hungry? I'll cook right now." He replied happily, in English, "Quick, I'm starving!" This is how we communicate. I speak Chinese as much as possible, while he insists on communicating in English. I want to encourage him to speak more Chinese, but for now, I'm content if he understands.

While frying fish, my thoughts raced. He mastered English within six months, which I admire. But I regret that his Chinese has deteriorated. Sharing this experience, I found that many had similar concerns. Immigrant children, especially those who came here young or were born here, often face challenges related to language, cultural identity, and communication with their grandparents and parents. Many times, when video calling my parents with my son, I struggle to translate in between and feel a sense of guilt as if the loss of his native language is my fault. I desperately seek to understand how this could have happened in just a few months and what can help slow it down; culture will be lost along with the language.

I realized a bridge is needed to connect people from one culture to another. This bridge can be built from works of art or culture or real people’s stories. It should not only connect us to our new environment and friends but also connect generations. 

Communicating with the younger generation is challenging, especially in an immigrant family, because language differences can create significant barriers. As our children grow up in a different linguistic environment, it can be difficult to fully grasp what they mean or want to express, adding another layer of complexity to communication.

Cultural differences are another problem. Having grown up in an East Asian family, I notice different educational philosophies. A Torontonian told me there is no "Canadian way" of education; everyone educates their children according to their habits. However, East Asian families generally emphasize academic performance from a young age, leading to strict parenting. In contrast, children here focus more on mental health and physical exercise, with parents valuing curiosity and interest over high grades.

These cultural differences, combined with the language barriers, can create a gap between immigrant parents and their children, who are influenced by both their heritage and the new culture. A voice in my head tells me to calm down, but I worry about losing the bridge of understanding between my son and me.

My dream began to take shape: I want to discover and translate excellent works from various countries and cultures, introducing them in bilingual or trilingual versions. This could help immigrants and their descendants stay connected with their cultural roots and provide unique gifts for friends interested in those cultures. I aim to bring culturally rich works from other countries to Canada, so that immigrant descendants can learn about their heritage, for example, the Dragon Boat Festival and the importance of soybean products in Chinese cuisine and culture.

I also want to encourage people to share their immigration stories and describe how they integrated with new cultures, made new friends, and made the new place their new home. Such stories would be fascinating. I hope the “old” immigrants can tell us about their experiences, inspiring and empowering new immigrants. 

My purpose is clear: I want to help immigrants cherish their roots and have them serve as cultural bridges across diverse environments. Let the power of stories connect us all as they tell of hearts and memories. With that vision, Roots & Bridge took root. It's never easy to start something new, but my wife and I are thrilled to finally see our first bilingual children's book, "TODAY I AM A SOYBEAN," come to life. I can’t wait to share many more stories with the world.