For Dad, GM was opportunity
November 25, 2008 - When my parents visit me in Los Angeles, Dad counts cars on the freeway.
"All Toyota, Honda, Hyundai.. . no GM or Ford cars?" he asks.
I mechanically sigh, "Sorry, Dad, not many GM cars here."
My dad loves General Motors. Until his early retirement last week, he had been at GM for 28 1/2 years, starting back when Jimmy Carter was president and gas prices were below a dollar! Yet, despite my dad's career, I drive a BMW. One of my sisters drives a Honda, and the other doesn't even own a car. She relies on public transportation.
To be honest, I didn't really feel bad about this until now.
Like thousands of others in the Detroit area, my family grew up with the Big Three. The vehicles in your driveway -- Ford, GM or Chrysler -- told your neighbors where you worked. Our family cars began with a Malibu station wagon that carried us on our best road trips.
As my sisters and I reached teen years, our family went through several Pontiac Grand Ams, a red hot Firebird for my mom, a Saturn, even a GeoTracker. With each one came the proud picture of my dad standing in the driveway in front the shiny, new GM vehicle, hands on hips, beaming. He loved being able to "upgrade" to a new GM car.
"American is the best," my dad would say. And Ford? "GM is much better," he scoffed.
But by the time both my sisters and I graduated college, we were burned out from owning GM cars.
"Dad, I'm buying a Toyota," my sister challenged one car shopping summer. My dad was hurt. It didn't really register with me then how a simple act of buying a non-GM car could affect him. But it did. He argued pointedly about the strength, quality and affordability of a GM car, but my sister didn't back down. Finally, my youngest sister said, "Why are you arguing with a man wearing a shirt that says 'I AM GM'?" Good point. End of discussion.
Being part of a generation that expects to bounce to a different job every few years, I didn't understand then how a company could mean so much to my dad. But looking back now, GM has always been more than just an employer to him.
My parents came to the United States in 1975 immediately after the Vietnam War. Photos of them show a shy, young Vietnamese couple in their early 20s. The pictures don't show that my mother also was seven months pregnant, with me. They had no money, no suitcase, no home, and a baby on the way.
My parents were readily sponsored by a kind Southern couple who to this day we affectionately call "Grandma and Grandpa of Kentucky." They welcomed us into their own family, providing home cooking, "Sesame Street" and English lessons. It was my parents' first taste of "Americana" -- the generosity of spirit.
Through a close friend of the Kentucky couple, my dad was offered a job opportunity in Michigan, so we moved to Detroit, where he landed on a GM assembly line. We moved from a warm, bright home that smelled of freshly baked banana bread every morning into a dark, dank loft in downtown Detroit. I was 4 years old. I didn't know we were poor. I still wanted a new Barbie and a birthday cake. Meanwhile, both parents switched off attending night school to study English and drafting.
A few years later, my dad was offered his first desk job at GM. I still remember the excitement as my parents bought our first home in a family-oriented neighborhood of Madison Heights. I had my own bedroom, and so did my new baby sister. Both my parents continued attending night school, my father now studying auto body design and more English (which he found much more difficult than design).
Dad's GM job paid for our groceries, my pom-pom camps, my sister's tennis lessons, karate lessons, ballet lessons, and so on. GM provided us with scholarship assistance, and medical and dental care. GM watched as my family moved from poor to lower-middle class to middle class to upper-middle class in the span of 28 1/2 years. My father's desk at GM was adorned with photos from family trips, birthday parties, elementary school talent shows, high school dances and college graduations that GM made possible.
My dad turns 56 years old this Christmas Eve. He accepted GM's early-out offer at the desperate urging of my mother, my sisters and me, while his GM colleagues wait to learn whether they will have a job in January. He's worried about his retirement account, his GM stock (what's left of it) -- the investment he made in a company he believed in and was proud of. I didn't realize how long we've been a "GM family" until my dad asked me to help prepare his good-bye e-mail.
Yes, my dad IS GM, and proudly so. Senior-management and GM officers have made some poor decisions within the company. But my dad didn't. He has stood by GM since his first days on the assembly line.
I am writing this because latest polls show maybe half of all Americans care about the condition of our automotive industry. The Big Three were powered by people like my dad, not just reckless executives. We CAN fix this with better leadership and new cash to fuel better cars and make serious changes for the future. To my dad, GM is America. Both gave him opportunities.
Now it's time for us to give GM an opportunity.
As a daughter of a GM family, now more than ever, I'd like the opportunity to buy a GM car -- a hybrid, of course -- and I'll be proud to do so.
ELISABETH CHÂU HUỲNH, 33, grew up in Madison Heights and Sterling Heights. A graduate of Michigan State University, she works at a film studio in Los Angeles.
(Source: http://www.freep.com/article/20081125/OPINION02/811250324/0/BUSINESS01)
November 25, 2008 - When my parents visit me in Los Angeles, Dad counts cars on the freeway.
 |
| By Elizabeth Châu Huỳnh |
I mechanically sigh, "Sorry, Dad, not many GM cars here."
My dad loves General Motors. Until his early retirement last week, he had been at GM for 28 1/2 years, starting back when Jimmy Carter was president and gas prices were below a dollar! Yet, despite my dad's career, I drive a BMW. One of my sisters drives a Honda, and the other doesn't even own a car. She relies on public transportation.
To be honest, I didn't really feel bad about this until now.
Like thousands of others in the Detroit area, my family grew up with the Big Three. The vehicles in your driveway -- Ford, GM or Chrysler -- told your neighbors where you worked. Our family cars began with a Malibu station wagon that carried us on our best road trips.
As my sisters and I reached teen years, our family went through several Pontiac Grand Ams, a red hot Firebird for my mom, a Saturn, even a GeoTracker. With each one came the proud picture of my dad standing in the driveway in front the shiny, new GM vehicle, hands on hips, beaming. He loved being able to "upgrade" to a new GM car.
"American is the best," my dad would say. And Ford? "GM is much better," he scoffed.
But by the time both my sisters and I graduated college, we were burned out from owning GM cars.
"Dad, I'm buying a Toyota," my sister challenged one car shopping summer. My dad was hurt. It didn't really register with me then how a simple act of buying a non-GM car could affect him. But it did. He argued pointedly about the strength, quality and affordability of a GM car, but my sister didn't back down. Finally, my youngest sister said, "Why are you arguing with a man wearing a shirt that says 'I AM GM'?" Good point. End of discussion.
Being part of a generation that expects to bounce to a different job every few years, I didn't understand then how a company could mean so much to my dad. But looking back now, GM has always been more than just an employer to him.
My parents came to the United States in 1975 immediately after the Vietnam War. Photos of them show a shy, young Vietnamese couple in their early 20s. The pictures don't show that my mother also was seven months pregnant, with me. They had no money, no suitcase, no home, and a baby on the way.
My parents were readily sponsored by a kind Southern couple who to this day we affectionately call "Grandma and Grandpa of Kentucky." They welcomed us into their own family, providing home cooking, "Sesame Street" and English lessons. It was my parents' first taste of "Americana" -- the generosity of spirit.
Through a close friend of the Kentucky couple, my dad was offered a job opportunity in Michigan, so we moved to Detroit, where he landed on a GM assembly line. We moved from a warm, bright home that smelled of freshly baked banana bread every morning into a dark, dank loft in downtown Detroit. I was 4 years old. I didn't know we were poor. I still wanted a new Barbie and a birthday cake. Meanwhile, both parents switched off attending night school to study English and drafting.
A few years later, my dad was offered his first desk job at GM. I still remember the excitement as my parents bought our first home in a family-oriented neighborhood of Madison Heights. I had my own bedroom, and so did my new baby sister. Both my parents continued attending night school, my father now studying auto body design and more English (which he found much more difficult than design).
Dad's GM job paid for our groceries, my pom-pom camps, my sister's tennis lessons, karate lessons, ballet lessons, and so on. GM provided us with scholarship assistance, and medical and dental care. GM watched as my family moved from poor to lower-middle class to middle class to upper-middle class in the span of 28 1/2 years. My father's desk at GM was adorned with photos from family trips, birthday parties, elementary school talent shows, high school dances and college graduations that GM made possible.
My dad turns 56 years old this Christmas Eve. He accepted GM's early-out offer at the desperate urging of my mother, my sisters and me, while his GM colleagues wait to learn whether they will have a job in January. He's worried about his retirement account, his GM stock (what's left of it) -- the investment he made in a company he believed in and was proud of. I didn't realize how long we've been a "GM family" until my dad asked me to help prepare his good-bye e-mail.
Yes, my dad IS GM, and proudly so. Senior-management and GM officers have made some poor decisions within the company. But my dad didn't. He has stood by GM since his first days on the assembly line.
I am writing this because latest polls show maybe half of all Americans care about the condition of our automotive industry. The Big Three were powered by people like my dad, not just reckless executives. We CAN fix this with better leadership and new cash to fuel better cars and make serious changes for the future. To my dad, GM is America. Both gave him opportunities.
Now it's time for us to give GM an opportunity.
As a daughter of a GM family, now more than ever, I'd like the opportunity to buy a GM car -- a hybrid, of course -- and I'll be proud to do so.
ELISABETH CHÂU HUỲNH, 33, grew up in Madison Heights and Sterling Heights. A graduate of Michigan State University, she works at a film studio in Los Angeles.
(Source: http://www.freep.com/article/20081125/OPINION02/811250324/0/BUSINESS01)