We Are All In the Business Of Becoming

In the summer of 2022, my wife and I took our nine-month-old for a stroll along Fukuhama Beach in Fukuoka City, Japan.

It was a Tuesday morning, I remember. The sun was rising. The breeze, cool and comfortable. There were a bunch of things lined up for the day, so I thought we could start off with some family time before we got busy.

We lived in a two-storey beach house off Hakata Bay. Busan, South Korea, was a mere three-hour ferry ride to the north. From our doorstep, the pathway was lined with sakura trees — not with cherry blossoms, but with vibrant shades of green. It was summer, after all. The grass was clean and dry, and people would take this opportunity to lie down on their backs. If we were lucky, we’d get to see the city’s signature birds — hawks — circling above us, which we did aplenty. You wouldn’t find much trash other than the occasional soda can or food wrapper nestled in the bushes. The air was salty, but fresh. The neighbourhood was quiet and peaceful. Everything felt… untainted. And the best part was that I got to enjoy all of this with my family.

Where we lived was not perfect, but the way I saw it? It neared perfection.

On the social front, things were going well, too. We made friends with many Japanese families on the basis that we could engage in what I’d call a “Singapore-Japan Cultural Exchange.” Being foreigners, we brought a fresh perspective. Yes, they had heard only good things about Singapore, but they had never met a Singaporean, let alone been to Singapore. I guess you could say we were in a unique position to bring something new to the table — which we happily did. That said, not only did our Japanese improve, we also learned and witnessed firsthand the family culture, the art, the history, and the secrets of the city, all through the eyes of the Japanese. Needless to say, our son enjoyed it all.

And that’s when it hit me.

You know those moments when you’re in the middle of a shower or doing the chores, then boom — you get hit with an idea?

As I’m writing this, my mind drifts back to the days when we were living in Japan. What if we could turn these experiences into something accessible for the families back home, I thought. This was 2022. The world was recovering from the pandemic. Many of us had lost something — money, a loved one, an old lifestyle — and our perception of life had been transformed by the events of the past two years. If there’s one thing I learned from those strange times, it was that I should worry less about the future and focus my attention on what’s truly important — my family. “Why not curate an experience for families to enjoy the culture of a foreign land and reconnect with each other?” popped into my head.

I shared this idea with my wife, which was funny because just a couple of days earlier, she had been thinking about the exact same thing — as if some higher power was speaking to us!

And just like that, boom! This big idea was waiting for us back in Singapore.

I’ve been thinking about this story lately because here I am, three years later, having wrapped up 2025 with a bunch of successful camps and, just a month ago, having released the dates for all six camps happening in 2026.

When we relocated back to Singapore at the start of 2023, there was a period when we didn’t think this idea for a family camp would work. Ideating a programme is always exciting. Executing it, however, is excruciating. Coordinating with foreign partners required us to read between cultural nuances. There were many moving parts, many things to consider and reconsider, many things out of our control. It required — like any venture starting from scratch — patience and endurance without any promise of reward.

Just shy of nine months into 2023, we launched our first camp to Jeju, South Korea. It was held in the spring of 2024, and we had a couple of parents from our existing network who were kind enough to fly in and entrust their kids to us. Perfect, I thought. The idea actually works.

Then came a low, quiet period of: Why isn’t anyone signing up? Is this what we should be doing? Did we do something wrong?

Other things were happening simultaneously in our lives. We had just gotten the keys to our new home, which meant a mortgage to maintain. We had to put our growing toddler in preschool, which meant more money out the window. We were trying to fix our marriage, which had suffered a hit in the wake of our struggles as first-time parents. There were frequent emotional outbursts, which I suspect were the consequence of accumulated stress and frustrations swept under the carpet. From both a mental and physical standpoint, we weren’t doing great.

All this to say, it was as if the challenge of building an education venture wasn’t difficult enough — there were plenty of circumstances adding to our burden as business owners, as spouses, as a family.

And the weather sucked.

So we were exhausted.

I’m not the kind of person inclined to seek help, but I needed help. We needed help. And who do we look to? Friends? Extended family? God?

On a particular day in the second half of 2024, I had just sent my son to school. With some time to spare that morning, I thought I’d spend the next hour reading and writing. Since this was my usual routine, nothing felt abnormal. I then opened the box of notecards I had accumulated over the past eight months of writing.

What came next was something I can’t quite explain, because as someone who believes in a higher power, this didn’t feel like a random encounter.

I felt a nudge to pick out one particular card. My eyes trailed the stack as I ran my fingers three-quarters up the pile and pulled out a notecard.

It had roughly three dozen words scribbled in black Pilot marker. I can’t remember when I wrote it, but it was a quote by the great sci-fi novelist, Ursula Le Guin.

I believe in miracles, but I wouldn’t go as far as to call this a miracle.

But it felt as if two stars had aligned: the problem I was fighting had come face to face with an answer. Of course, there’s no such thing as perfection, but every once in a while “perfection” appears when served at the right place at the right time. And this was that moment in the form of a “why I’m doing what I’m doing” notecard.

Obviously, my problems didn’t disappear. Neither was I saved from the rut. But I was saved from abandoning the whole idea of an overseas family camp. I was saved from returning to old ways of doing things, for settling for less, for keeping my head down, for minding my own business.

I had saved myself…. from myself.

Raising a family with your spouse is not easy, let alone working together. Mistakes will be made. Outbursts will happen. I had spent all my energy trying to figure out the best way to navigate the tides of parenthood and family life, but I realised all I needed was not to strive, but to be present. All I needed to do was to remember why I'm was doing what I’m doing.

In his campaign for the presidency, Franklin D. Roosevelt, drawing from his own long encounter with paralysis, reminded the nation from his wheelchair that people needed to be bold — to persist in experimenting. “It is common sense to take a method and try it,” he said. “If it fails, admit it frankly and try another. But above all, try something!”

So we kept trying.

We never stopped looking for the right partners to execute the vision together. We never stopped talking to families to find out what they were struggling with most at home. We never stopped stepping out of our comfort zones. Over time, through persistent effort, our plans began to make sense. Through word of mouth and the power of social media, families began to catch wind of what we were doing, and our following grew.

I would love to tell you that after sticking through thick and thin, everything came together perfectly.

But that’s not how life works.

In reality, we took a couple of steps forward, only to stumble back. Setback after setback, we'd never hesitate to invest our savings into this dream, some of which I’m sure I’ll never see a return on. We also turned down numerous lucrative collaborations that offered “good” money but were never aligned with our philosophy.

We were burned along the way. Though painful, we had to let go of certain personal and professional relationships. We sacrificed the little money we had and expended all available time and energy for this very purpose.

But isn’t that what’s expected of us?

Isn’t that the price you have to pay when you truly believe in something and want it to succeed?

Because if it didn’t cost us anything, can I consider myself truly successful?

To push through self-doubt, the plausibility of risk, and the overwhelming tides of stress is a great burden to bear — as it was for my family. It pushes you to do things you never thought you would do. There were many times we wanted to give it all up and revert to our old lifestyle.

But I’m glad we didn’t.

Launching six destinations for 2026 is the result of hard, persistent work — the manifestation of something my wife and I believed in.

I was tired. Yet, I am charged up.

To date, this is one of the best things we’ve done as individuals, as a couple, as a family.

But what I’m proudest of is who I became while doing it.

Through my work at Gosh Kids, I discovered how much I don’t know about the world I inhabit. I reclaimed my Chinese heritage. I was able to expand my creativity into new, unfamiliar realms. I found that community — the pillar that holds families together — was what we needed most. I learned about business. I learned about relationships. I learned about trust and reliance.

The funny thing is, this whole process was shaping me — and I didn’t even realise it!

What you need is the conviction that what you are doing is of real importance, and really worth doing, and you have to do it; and that conviction creates the sacred space around you.

This conviction, as I’ve come to learn, is more important than the outcome itself.

And it’s who you become in the making that makes all the difference.

​Gosh! Kids Go!
Taipei, Taiwan 🇹🇼​

Recommended For: Families who are familiar with commuting in a foreign land, are experienced in planning their own itineraries, who want to experience Chinese culture, and to immerse their children into the Chinese language.

Format of Camp: Parent-child only

Package Type: Self-guided package. This gives you the ultimate flexibility and cost-effectiveness when you decide where you want to stay, how you want to get around, where to eat and where to explore. The price you pay is for the camp only. Need help in planning? We will provide families with a recommendation list to assist in the planning.

Camp Location: Our 3-day day camp will be based at "Happ. 小樹屋｜紅豆杉分館," a cozy, air-conditioned activity room located in the Dihua district of Taipei. Participants will gather at this location at the start of each day, and will mostly be based here throughout the duration of the camp.

Dates: 1 - 3 May 2026 (Please note you'll have to fly in at least a day earlier)

Destination Airport: Taipei Taoyuan International Airport (TPE).

Direct Flights (from Singapore) Into TPE Via: China Airline, SQ, Scoot, Eva Air

For Parents and Kids Aged: 3 - 6 years old.

For more information, please click here​

Got questions? WhatsApp Gladys @ +65 9112 8738

hello@goshkids.org / +65 9112 8738 (WhatsApp)
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