A Quote by Constance Wu

My dad got a job as a professor at Virginia Commonwealth University. He teaches biology and genetics. My dad has been obsessed with science his whole life. Both my paternal grandparents were illiterate bamboo farmers, so he really worked his way up and then got a Ph.D., full ride and everything, from universities in America.
My dad for a long time was an accounting professor at Rice University. And then he went out on his own, and he got hired by a client. He ended up being CEO of a hospital management company before he retired, called Lifemark.
We are a rugby family really. My dad and both granddads played rugby. Dad was good, on his way to Bath until he broke his leg. My brother Harry got an invitation to go and play for Bristol. I go and watch Sale Sharks and have been to Twickenham a few times.
My dad was a scientist. More than that: my dad grew up in a tiny terraced house in Swansea, the only child of a second-generation immigrant family - his father sold cloth, zips and buttons from door to door - and so science - biochemistry at Swansea University, followed by a PhD at Imperial College - was his way out, his way up.
Dad often told me, 'My job is to help my boss do his job and make him look good.' That was my dad's objective. Everything about the way he conducted himself was to communicate support for his superiors and respect for his coworkers. The way he dressed was his starting point in that communication.
My dad worked for Del Monte and then for Monsanto as one of the chief scientists on the Calgene Flavr Savr Tomato. But it was a huge disaster because the tomato didn't taste good. And then my dad started his own genetics company and I began doing that with him. He and I ran a genetics company for 10 years. And so I sold seeds to Florida.
My dad, bless him, he was never into Marvel before, but now he's obsessed with it. When I got the job, he started watching his way through the films, and he's got all these different YouTubers that he now watches for theories, and he tries to get spoilers out of me.
When I was 13, I had my first job with my dad carrying shingles up to the roof. And then I got a job washing dishes at a restaurant. And then I got a job in a grocery store deli. And then I got a job in a factory sweeping Cheerio dust off the ground.
When his football and baseball careers ended, my dad became an accomplished marbles player. Then dad got really good at pitching horseshoes. And to show you how athletic our bloodlines really were, my mom was a wonderful tennis player.
My paternal grandfather worked in the mill all his life. My father worked in the mill almost his whole life. I worked in the mill while I was going to college in the summers. And then, for one stretch, I quit school and worked one year.
I thought food and drink were just part of the perks of living at the White House. The next day, I got a call from his secretary saying my dad wanted to see me in the Oval Office, and when I got there, dad was waving this little pink receipt. I didn't know it came out of his salary.
Barney's Dad was really bad so Barney hatched a plan when his dad said "Eat your peas." Barney shouted no and ran Barney tricked his mean old dad and locked him in the cellar Barney's Mom never found out where he'd gone, Cause Barney didn't tell her. There his dad spent his life eating mice and gruel With every bite for fifty years he was sorry he'd been cruel
Dad never really got over Jack's death and was deeply inspired by his brother throughout his life to delve deeper into his own faith.
My mom and dad are from the streets. My mom's from Chicago. My dad's from Memphis. My dad got out of school and got with my mom. They were hustlers. They were from the streets. They were doing their thing. The streets ain't got no love for the streets. You can light up the streets, or be a victim of the streets.
My dad was just a little trailer trash white dude that worked his tail off, didn't have a dad. He started working at 14, didn't get to play sports. He dedicated his life to his kids to let us live our dreams.
My dad's been having a hard time lately. Keeps on losing his keys. Can't hang on to a set of keys to save his life. And he has tried everything too: little hook next to the door, little bowl next to his bed, keychain makes a noise when you whistle. Nothing worked. So finally, this year for his birthday, the whole family chipped in - and we put him in a home.
We didn't grow up in a jock household. In fact, my dad is an entrepreneur. He was a computer programmer; he was a professor of actuarial science at Wharton for 13 years, then started his own company that was software-based.
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