Andy Said What We Ever Wanted To, So Thank you.

Maria Salinas, president and CEO of the Los Angeles Area Chamber of Commerce, speaks about the family of newly inaugurated Chair Andy Park during the installation ceremony held on Feb. 5.

Many readers in our community, and their families, came to America for different reasons. Some were born here. Others crossed oceans in search of opportunity. Even those who are not immigrants themselves likely grew up with immigrant neighbors, classmates, and friends.

Coming to the United States — the so-called land of opportunity — is often described as a hopeful journey. But it is rarely easy. Language barriers are real. Cultural differences can be isolating. Not every neighbor welcomes newcomers with open arms. For every celebrated immigrant success story, there are many more stories of struggle, disappointment, and quiet endurance. That is why the shoulders of immigrants are always heavy.

Last week, we covered the inauguration of Andy Park as chair of the Los Angeles Area Chamber of Commerce. It was a historic moment. But what lingered most was not the title — it was his words.

Speaking before an audience of nearly 1,000 business leaders, Park paused to acknowledge his parents.

“They sacrificed everything to give their son a chance. They did the jobs no one wanted to do. They endured discrimination and dismissal. They persevered — and made me who I am.”

The room erupted in applause. At one table, his father smiled and nodded, quietly receiving a recognition decades in the making. Among seasoned executives and civic leaders, the remarks of a man in his mid-40s were enough to move an entire ballroom to tears.

Park emphasized that he was proud to be Korean American.

“To be given the opportunity to serve as the first Korean American chair since the Chamber’s founding in 1888 means everything to me. It shows how far Los Angeles has come — and what a community can achieve when opportunity is extended to all.”

As a journalist, I have attended countless ceremonies celebrating second-generation success — corporate promotions, public appointments, entrepreneurial milestones. Yet this speech carried unusual resonance. Perhaps because it was not just about professional achievement. It was about inheritance — not of wealth, but of sacrifice.

Park’s parents were part of the first wave of Korean immigrants who arrived in Los Angeles in the late 1970s. They came with little money, limited English, and boundless hope. Like many in that generation, they faced setbacks — from economic hardship to the unrest of 1992 and the earthquake of 1994. Seeking stability, the family relocated to Seattle. Years later, their son returned to Los Angeles — the city of his childhood — to build a career. Today he leads a major consulting practice serving thousands of clients and businesses.

Despite two decades in corporate leadership, Park said he intends to “serve and learn.” He pledged to dedicate his year of leadership to strengthening the city that once gave his family a chance. He believes that honoring his parents’ sacrifice means giving back to the community that made his success possible.

Words have power. When spoken with sincerity, they can bridge generations. That evening, many first- and second-generation immigrants — and many others in attendance — left with a renewed sense of pride and belonging.

Immigrant life is rarely light. It is built on long hours, quiet resilience, and the hope that the next generation will stand taller. And sometimes, in moments like this, that hope is fulfilled — not only through success, but through gratitude.

If you are the child of immigrants and your parents are still alive, push their numbers today.

And just loudly say “Thank you for raising me.”

Because they well deserve it.

Brian Choi / ichoi@koreadaily.com