I hit pause on my laptop. “What is that?” I ask warily, rubbing my eyes.

I’ve spent the past two hours binge-watching a documentary about the career revival of a famous singer-songwriter. The last scene had been of her sobbing into a napkin in the darkness of her studio, while screenshots of absurdly mean comments floated around her like digital phantoms.

Of course, I know how things will go from here. She’ll remember why she got into the industry in the first place: because of her passion for music. Maybe she’ll receive a heartfelt message from a fan, or she’ll find a video of herself playing the piano as a toddler. This is what it’s really about, she’ll say, not success. She’ll then wake up one morning with a melody stuck in her head, and she’ll hurry down to the studio, and the rough, original audio will transition into the final song, which she’ll play at sold-out stadiums, having become successful at last.

“An application,” my mom says.

“An application for what?” I ask. “And are we finally speaking English again?”

She ignores my second question. Just waves the document around with excitement like it’s a winning lottery ticket. “Journey to the East.”

I stare.

“You know, like Journey to the West? It’s a play on words. Because this is a journey to—well, the East,” she explains.

“Yeah, um, I got that part,” I say, still trying to decipher what this means.

“It’s a two-week trip around China’s cities to really immerse you in the culture,” she goes on. “The local Chinese school, Jiu Yin He, is hosting it. It’s perfect for kids like you, who’ve forgotten their Mandarin and barely know anything about China. Studies show the most effective way to relearn a language is by being in the environment. And,” she adds, like it’s an afterthought, “the program is run in collaboration with the Department of East Asian Languages and Cultures at Stanford, so your aunt is the one who designed the itinerary for this year. She’ll be receiving regular updates about the trip and will meet the participating students at the end.”

There it is. The real reason. I can almost see the gears in my mom’s head working. This is her big plan for redemption—both hers and mine. Prove to her sister that she didn’t raise a completely uncultured daughter, that she hasn’t failed as a parent.

“Are you sure my aunt will want me to join her program?” I ask tentatively.