This as-told-to essay is based on a conversation with Charlie Fang, 31, who works for an American tech company in China as a strategic partner manager. Fang left the US in 2024 after three failed attempts to obtain an H-1B visa.
His words have been edited for length and clarity.
I grew up in China and attended a school in Nanjing, where studying abroad was common. More than half of my classmates planned to leave China for college, so from a young age, overseas education felt normal to me.
Before college, I briefly lived in the US with a family in Portland, Oregon. My host mother, who worked in branding, was curious about what brands people wore in China. The family had watched the Beijing Olympics and had many questions about the country.
I was there during the 2008 presidential election, when Barack Obama was running against John McCain, so politics came up often at the dinner table. That was new to me because politics wasn’t something we often discussed at home.
The family took great care of me. Before I left, my host mother handwrote a letter in Chinese to my mother using Google Translate. It left my family and me with a hugely positive view of Americans.
College in the US
I later attended the University of Minnesota for my bachelor’s degree, where I experienced what people call “Minnesota nice.”
Once, at a local restaurant called Hong Kong Noodles, I learned that another customer whom I’d never met had quietly paid for my meal.
Another time, I accidentally ordered Starbucks from the wrong location, but the closer branch still made me a new drink without charging me again.
I also remember missing my bus stop because my friends and I forgot to pull the stop cord. We were sitting in the back, but other passengers passed the message forward so the driver would stop for us.
What surprised me most in the US was the attitude toward education and individuality. Professors didn’t seem concerned if students skipped class. If someone wanted to enjoy life rather than study, that was considered their personal choice. I couldn’t imagine professors accepting that kind of student behavior in China.
At the time, though, I didn’t think I wanted to stay in America permanently. After graduation, I returned to China and joined an adtech startup.
Startup grind
Back in China, I got along well with my colleagues and enjoyed the work, even though I worked what people call a “996” schedule — often from 11 a.m. to 11 p.m. I loved the job and didn’t mind the hours because my salary increased every year.
After work, I still went out with friends for drinks or board games.
I returned to the US in 2021 to enroll in a master’s program at Harvard. While I was there, I reconnected with friends I hadn’t seen in years. I talked enthusiastically about startup life until one friend told me it was shocking how much I had changed. They called me a workaholic.
That comment stayed with me.
Provided by Charlie Fang
I realized that I’d relate every conversation back to work. I began wondering if I should adjust my mindset.
I started talking more about other parts of my life with friends, including my childhood, my beliefs, and my values. I also did things that I previously would have considered a waste of time, like traveling to Mexico and Alaska or attending friends’ birthday parties.
Lottery losses
After graduate school, I moved to California. I started working at a startup before moving to the gaming company, where I managed partnerships with content creators. During that time, I entered the H-1B visa lottery three times.
By then, I had built a life in the US.
Among Chinese international students, there’s a belief that eating at Chick-fil-A improves your chances of being selected in the lottery. When results come out, some friends even change their social media profile pictures to the company’s logo to signal they’ve been chosen.
I ate at Chick-fil-A, and I even visited the Pao Hua Temple in California. I asked my family to burn incense for me at temples back in China.
Still, I wasn’t selected.
I’ve always been someone who looks forward. Once I realized I couldn’t stay in the US, I began applying for jobs in Beijing and eventually joined an American tech company as a strategic partner manager.
Provided by Charlie Fang
Reverse culture shock
When I moved back to China in 2024, the second time, I experienced reverse culture shock.
I had become more direct and less sensitive to authority and hierarchy after living in the US. In China, people often use cues to find out who holds influence in the interaction.
Working for an American company in China also led to strange questions. Some relatives asked whether I represented American interests or whether I had obtained a green card.
I told them I’m simply an employee and I pay taxes to China. At times, it felt like they were viewing me through the lens of US-China tensions rather than as an individual.
I now have a much healthier work-life balance than I did at the startup. I find it easier to make close friends here because we share similar experiences and histories.
In the US, relationships are simpler. Here, I feel I have more people to take care of, but also more people taking care of me.
