The time was the mid-1950s and the place was San Francisco. Sinclair Yee was a teenager, recently arrived with his family from China, trying to fit in at his new home.
The young Yee struggled intensely with a new culture. His father, a teacher and businessman in China, worked as a menial laborer to provide for his family. In high school, language barriers led teachers and counselors to conclude that Yee wasn't bright enough to pursue an advanced education. When he wasn't in school, he worked as a shoeshine boy to help support the family. In the midst of the difficulties, he entered a speech contest sponsored by the Japanese-American Alliance Society in San Francisco. His topic: "My Responsibilities as a Young Chinese-American."
He won second place.
Yee, now approaching retirement as a professor in the UW's Department of Electrical Engineering, still has that original speech. It has been a sort of moral touchstone over the years. He occasionally takes it out and peruses it.
"I read it and I ask myself, ‘Am I doing what I said I would do?'"
The answer, according to peers, colleagues and friends, is a resounding "yes."
The most visible evidence, they say, is the Chinese Information Service Center, a nonprofit organization founded by Yee and his wife, Genevieve, that helps immigrants make the often-difficult transition to life in America.
In recognition of that work, Yee has been selected to receive the UW's Outstanding Public Service Award.
Alex Bien, executive director of the center, said Yee's initial effort provided the impetus that allowed the center to become a major supporting pillar in the regional Chinese-American community.
"Because of Dr. Yee's inspiration and involvement, his students carried on his work to help CISC grow from a grass roots, volunteer effort to an established agency with a budget of $2.4 million," Bien said. The center now serves more than 5,000 individuals each year.
Yee came to the UW in the late 1960s, after graduating with a doctoral degree in electrical engineering from the University of California-Berkeley. His work centers on optical sensors.
But, despite the rigors of the academic world, Yee paid attention to the needs of the community, according to Gus Kravas, UW vice provost and assistant to the president for student relations.
"Dr. Yee has also found time to distinguish himself as one of the Seattle Asian community's most outstanding and important volunteers," Kravas said.
Yee said the roots of his volunteerism lie in his own experiences adapting to American culture. When he and his wife found similar problems among Seattle Chinese Americans, Genevieve, an ESL teacher, wrote a curriculum. Yee approached the Chinese Baptist Church in the International District, which agreed to provide a small classroom a couple of times a week for English classes.
Small at first, the class sizes quickly grew as word spread. Yee enlisted Chinese-speaking students at the UW to help carry the load. In conversing with the immigrants, they quickly realized that the new arrivals' day-to-day needs went far beyond language fluency. So Yee and the students conducted door-to-door surveys of dilapidated hotels where the immigrants lived, observing problems. They then approached agencies that might help.
"The idea was to somehow connect those people who have needs to the organizations," Yee said.
The Yees' involvement with the center has waxed and waned according to their own circumstances. Today, Genevieve serves on the board of directors, and Yee is leading a fundraising drive to establish an endowment for the center.
While the public service award is gratifying, Yee said, he and his wife aren't seeking recognition. Their efforts stem from a deep commitment to family and community, and a desire to help those around them take advantage of available opportunities and thrive through hard work and persistence — as did Yee and his family so many years ago.
To that end, Yee knows exactly what he will do with the $5,000 prize attached to the award.
"We will match it with another $5,000 and donate that $10,000 to the center," he said. "If I kept it, I feel that would violate our dedication. What I did, I did out of my heart — I wasn't thinking in terms of recognition."