梦还在，我还在

《梦还在，我还在》

今晨，天微亮，风微凉。走进美南新闻广场的那一刻，我像走进了一段漫长记忆的回声裡。空气中飘着初夏的安静香气，而眼前，那幢即将完工的「美南环球第一银行金融中心大楼」，在朝阳的映照下，散发出一种说不出的温暖与光芒。

我停下脚步，仰望着它。那不是一栋冷峻的建筑，不只是钢筋水泥交织的结构，而是一个移民的梦——在风雨之中诞生，在无数次自我怀疑与坚持之后，被时间一砖一瓦地堆砌出来。

五百多个日夜，多少次披星戴月、多少次心力交瘁，那些没人看见的辛劳，那些数不清的夜裡，我一个人坐在图纸前，反覆修改、沉思，只為让这座楼，不只是楼，而是我们的象徵。

它承载的不只是未来的金融蓝图，而是我这一生写下的执念。它是一种信仰——在这片土地上，华人也能有自己的空间，也能挺直脊梁，无须委屈自己来换取被接受的资格。

我走过多少曲折的路，从异乡的孩子，到今天站在这裡的我。我记得初来美国那年，带着一口家乡的乡音、一颗不安却炽热的心，心裡装着的不是什麼雄图伟业，而只是希望能够留下、能够活得像个人、能够有一个不再漂泊的归属。

那时候的我从没想过，数十年后，我会亲手在这块土地上，种下一座真正属於我们的地标。

梦想从来都不是凭空而来。它是日復一日，把眼泪咽下，把委屈吞进肚裡，再微笑着站起来的勇气。它是跌倒时扶着心站稳，告诉自己：再苦，也不能放弃。

而如今，当我站在这座楼前，没有热泪盈眶，只有静静的，深深的一句话，对自己说——

「你走得这麼远，从未忘记為何出发。」

这不是成功的句点，而是另一段奋斗的开始。

因為梦还在，所以我还在。

而我还在，就不能辜负那些一直跟我走来的人。

Here to Stay, Still Dreaming

This morning, just before sunrise, I quietly stepped into the Southern News Group compound. The early summer air was cool and still. As I looked up, there stood the Southern Global One Bank Financial Center, nearly complete, its glass catching the soft light of dawn and glowing with a quiet warmth.

It wasn’t just a building. It wasn’t just steel and concrete. It was the embodiment of a dream — a dream born in storms, refined through countless nights of doubt, and slowly shaped, brick by brick, by time, faith, and persistence.

Over the past 500 days, I’ve poured every ounce of myself into this project. So many late nights. So many early mornings. So many moments of fatigue and resolve, of silence and struggle. The world may never see those hours, those battles fought behind closed doors, those nights I sat alone with blueprints and questions, revising line after line until my hands stilled.

This building is more than a financial institution — it is a symbol. A personal testament. A quiet, but firm declaration: that immigrants can stand tall on this land, that we deserve a space of our own, where we don’t need to whisper to be heard, or shrink ourselves to be accepted.

I’ve walked a long and winding road to stand here today — from a child in a distant country to the man I’ve become. I still remember my early days in America, arriving with an accent, a visa, and a heart full of uncertainty. I didn’t dream of empires or fame — I only hoped to stay, to live with dignity, and to find a place where I no longer felt like a guest.

I never imagined that decades later, I would be the one to plant a landmark — not just for myself, but for my people.

Dreams never come out of thin air. They are made from swallowed tears, silent resilience, and the will to rise even when every part of you wants to give up. They are built from invisible scars, from quiet strength — and from the choice to believe, again and again, that this life is worth building.

And so, standing here in front of this building, I don’t cry. I don’t speak loudly. I simply whisper to myself:

“You’ve come so far, and you’ve never forgotten why you began.”

This is not an ending. It’s another beginning.
The dream is still alive — and so am I.
And as long as I’m here, I will not forget those who have walked beside me.

I will not forget the land that gave me a chance.
I will not forget the promises I once made in the dark.
And if anyone asks whether it was all worth it,
I’ll simply point to the light, and say:

“Yes. Because I still believe in the weight of a dream.”