From Hong Kong to Switzerland: How Sports and 'Letting Go' Landed Top University Offers

The golden years of childhood fly by so quickly. Looking back, the period when my kids were between five and ten was truly magical. While our relationship is wonderful today, that particular window was special. We were like best friends; they loved to play, I loved to play, and we spent our time exploring and having fun together. Then, before we knew it, our family relocated to Hong Kong SAR.

Today, I want to share our family’s journey from Hong Kong SAR to Switzerland, along with a few honest reflections on education, sports, language, and parenting along the way.

(International Summer Camps in Switzerland. Source: Pinterest.com)

01.  First Impressions in Hong Kong: Redefining "International" Education

When we first arrived in Hong Kong SAR, we looked for an international school and found one that sat comfortably in the mid-range. Our family has always taken a relatively relaxed, go-with-the-flow approach to education. The top-tier international schools had notoriously long waiting lists, and the prospect of waiting six months or a year was an immediate turn-off. At the time, international schools were in high demand—especially around Discovery Bay, where we initially wanted to live—but the queues were endless. So, we chose a school that had immediate openings. Naturally, it was a fairly average institution.

My wife and I didn't mind at all. However, on the first day of term, I started to question our decision.

Attending my first school event, my immediate reaction was: Wow, this campus is tiny—really tiny. My second observation was: Where are all the international faces? Looking around, I saw almost exclusively local Chinese children. It didn't feel like an international school at all.

Later, I realized this was entirely a misconception on my part. Over the next few years, I came to understand that these local kids were, in fact, truly international students. Whenever my children's friends came over to our house, they spoke English exclusively. English was effectively their native language, and their mindset was deeply global. I gradually realized that this is the unique charm of Hong Kong SAR: the campuses might not be as grand or expansive as those in mainland China, but the level of genuine international integration is exceptionally high.

02. Escaping the Screen: Our Unexpected Pivot to Swiss Boarding Schools

After a few years in Hong Kong SAR, we moved the children to an international school in Switzerland. This transition wasn't part of a grand design; it was a reactionary choice driven entirely by the pandemic.

At the time, Hong Kong schools had shifted entirely online. If you have ever experienced a teenager stuck at home doing remote learning day after day, you know how challenging it can be. I was working from home too, and the lack of social interaction made everyone miserable. Family dynamics grew strained—the kids were frustrated, isolated from friends, and glued to screens all day. It became a serious issue for our well-being.

At that point, we just wanted to find a place where regular life could continue. Looking across the globe, Switzerland stood out. It met our two simple criteria: first, Swiss schools remained open for in-person learning while many other countries were locked down. Second, while visa processing had ground to a halt globally due to embassy closures, Switzerland’s admissions and visa processes remained relatively straightforward. We made the decision in July, and by late August, the kids were sitting in a classroom in Switzerland.

Once there, we found that the school took a remarkably relaxed approach to managing the virus. I vividly remember my son calling me, sounding absolutely thrilled: "Dad, I tested positive!" I asked why on earth he was excited. It turned out that whenever a student tested positive, they were moved to a separate chalet. It essentially became a giant holiday for the isolated kids. They didn't have to attend standard classes, the staff brought them great food, and a counselor kept them entertained. To them, it felt like summer camp. Everyone practically skipped to the isolation house when they caught the bug. When their ten days were up, they would complain, "I'm sure I'm still sick, let me stay a few more days!"

My son thrived in Switzerland and loved every minute of it. However, after two years, my daughter decided she missed Hong Kong and wanted to return.

My initial thought was, Are you kidding me? School applications are exhausting. So I told her, "If you want to go back to Hong Kong, you need to handle the application yourself. If you get accepted and manage the logistics, you can go." I wanted to avoid a situation where a child acts on an impulse and leaves the parents to do all the heavy lifting. Since she was old enough, taking initiative would prove she was serious. If she didn't want to put in the effort, then it wasn't worth the disruption.

To my surprise, she actually completed the process independently and secured an offer from her old international school in Hong Kong SAR. I jokingly asked her why she didn't aim for a higher-ranked institution, and she simply replied, "I just really miss my friends there."

In parenting, you never truly know what the "right" choice is. If she wanted to return to a familiar environment and reconnect with her friends at that stage in her life, it made sense to support her. So, our arrangement became split: my son remained in Switzerland, and my daughter returned to Hong Kong, right up until they both headed off to university.

03. The True Dividends of Sports: Friendships, Health, and University Offers

During these years, sports played a massive role in our family. My children are both avid athletes, largely because my core philosophy has always been simply to let them play.

(Source: Pinterest.com)

Back in Hong Kong SAR, we built a basketball court in our yard, which got a tremendous amount of use. When it comes to sports, I am just as competitive as they are. My son and I used to play intense one-on-one matches that occasionally bordered on real arguments.

This athletic focus brought incredible benefits. First, it made it incredibly easy for them to make friends. Being good at various sports allowed them to integrate quickly into any school environment, a trait that proved invaluable when my son transitioned to Switzerland. Sports built their confidence and character. I strongly encourage parents to let their children get involved in athletics; it supports physical and mental well-being across the board.

There was also an unexpected dividend when it came to university applications, particularly for my daughter.

Academically, both of my children excelled—if I can indulge in a brief moment of parental pride, my daughter’s predicted IB score was a perfect 45, and my son’s was 44. Yet, when applying to US universities, she was rejected by nearly every East Coast school she targeted. On the West Coast, however, she received offers from every single university in California she applied to—not a single rejection. I wondered why there was such a stark geographic divide, and I ultimately concluded it came down to her athletic background.

On her applications, she was listed as the captain of the basketball, football, and netball teams. Over the preceding year, she had traveled extensively for tournaments, winning regional championships, and she even played rugby. She loved nearly every sport available. Growing up with this lifestyle kept her healthy, well-adjusted, and socially connected, which saved us a lot of typical parental anxiety.

04. Moving Past Language Perfectionism: The Value of a Relaxed Approach

When it comes to learning languages, I often tell people that sometimes the best approach is to let things happen naturally. I take pride in my own Chinese—I have loved reading and writing since childhood. Naturally, I hoped my children would develop a strong command of the language, assuming they would pick up English effortlessly anyway. The reality of international schooling, however, was that English became their primary language. This was particularly true for my daughter.

A few years ago, our household conversations were completely bilingual: she would speak to me in English, and I would reply in Chinese. If I insisted she speak Chinese, she would simply go quiet. Even today, classical Chinese idioms escape her, reading requires effort, and writing traditional characters is a struggle. I tried to push back initially, but I soon realized you cannot fight the broader environment. I decided to let it go and accept the reality. They are culturally Westernized kids, and that is simply how they navigate the world.

Is this ideal? I don't hold a strong opinion either way. Of course, a perfect balance of fluent Chinese and English would be wonderful, but forcing it wasn't working—and ultimately, it is their life, not mine. From a practical standpoint, learning Chinese is significantly harder than learning English. Since they mastered English at a native level early on, taking a relaxed approach yielded its own benefits: it gave them a massive advantage in standardized exams. They walked into their IB exams without intense preparation and walked out with exceptional scores. Looking ahead to university, language will never be a barrier to their academic success. It’s a classic case of a blessing in disguise. My advice on language learning is simple: don't over-optimize.

You also experience unexpected positive turns. For instance, my son fell in with a group of European and American peers in Switzerland who were entirely focused on working out, comparing fitness progress, and playing chess. None of them played video games. As a result, my son completely outgrew his gaming habit without any parental intervention.

05. Peer-to-Peer Parenting: Building Mutual Respect Through Equal Dialogue

People often ask about the cultural friction of raising Westernized kids in a traditional household, but we haven't experienced significant clashes. My children are direct and speak their minds, which doesn't bother me. Although I have a traditional Chinese background, our home has always been fluidly bilingual, making communication seamless. As they grew older, they developed emotional maturity. For example, when I take my daughter back to my hometown to visit relatives, I remind her to stick to Chinese. She makes a genuine effort to do so out of respect for her grandmother, which means a lot to me.

I remember a small but revealing moment in Beijing when my son was about six years old. I had taken him swimming, and we were chatting in the locker room. A gentleman nearby turned to me and said, "I hope you don't mind me saying, but your dynamic is fascinating." I asked him what he meant. He replied, "You talk to each other like peer-to-peer friends. It’s rare to see a parent communicate with such absolute equality."

It was only then that I realized this was our default setting. Even when the kids were toddlers, we avoided using exaggerated baby talk; we always spoke to them directly and respectfully as equals. While a direct communication style is often associated with Western culture, it has always been our family norm. Some parents might struggle with children who are highly direct, fearing a lack of traditional respect. We haven't encountered that issue because mutual respect was built on a foundation of equality from day one.

In Conclusion

Ultimately, whether it is choosing schools, playing sports, mastering languages, or navigating cultures, very little can be perfectly engineered. When you let go of rigid expectations, adopt a flexible mindset, and treat your children as individuals, you give them the space to build a fulfilling life on their own terms.