Growing up, my dad was 'get a real job, don't go pursuing your dreams, that's how you become homeless.' So, do I pick my family or do I pick my own happiness, and how much does my own happiness depend on my family?

When I was on the playground, people were calling me Jackie Chan.

My job is to go into that audition and be good enough of an Asian actor - or an actor in general - to land that role so they don't have to go out and hire a white guy. My job is to make sure I capitalize on these opportunities that other people created.

Maybe my job on this planet is to make the Asian accent sexy.

Examples one finds in the philosophical literature are somebody who's seen the trial of a child of theirs, where they're being proved guilty of some crime that would drive the parent into a depression, maybe a suicidal depression.

Actually, I had a lot of good people with me - my mother's sister did a lot of taking care of me, and I suppose I got more attention than my stepbrothers because at least I got to travel with my parents.

I didn't go to the right schools, didn't come from a well-known family, nor was I even remotely connected to a powerful publishing dynasty.

I think I've preserved most of my private life, and I think that's still important for me, and that's still important for my family.