There are certain geopolitical conflicts you can debate casually from the comfort of your recliner while angrily wolfing down popcorn. China versus Taiwan is not one of them. At least not for me.

My late father was born in China in 1927. He lived through war, revolution, displacement, uncertainty, and eventually escaped to Taiwan before Communist rule took over mainland China. Years later, he immigrated alone to America with little more than faith, grit, and enough courage to make the rest of us look soft by comparison. So when politicians casually toss around phrases like “strategic ambiguity,” “reunification,” or “regional tensions,” I don’t hear abstract foreign policy jargon. I hear family history. I hear the echoes of people who lost homes, identities, and connections with loved ones overnight.

That’s why President Donald Trump’s visit to China matters. And depending on what is said — or not said — about Taiwan, it could matter enormously.

Before everybody on social media loses their collective minds, let me say this clearly: I understand the “One China” position emotionally. My father probably believed some version of it himself. Many older Chinese who fled to Taiwan never stopped viewing themselves as culturally Chinese. I refer to myself as Chinese—not Taiwanese. Taiwan was not originally envisioned as a separate civilization to those like my dad who fled. It was refuge. Survival. A temporary sanctuary during a civil war that never technically ended. That nuance gets lost today.

The truth is that history is complicated. Identity is complicated. Family loyalty is complicated. And yet, despite understanding all of that emotionally, I still arrive at a different conclusion politically. Democracy must be defended. Especially when Chinese people freely choose it.

Taiwan today is not merely a historical leftover from the Chinese Civil War. It has evolved into a thriving democracy with free elections, free speech, economic innovation, religious liberty, and the right to criticize its own leaders without fearing a knock on the door in the middle of the night. Those freedoms matter. America — regardless of whether the president is named Trump, Biden, Obama, or Reagan — should not casually negotiate away the future of 23 million people simply because a superpower demands it loudly enough.

At the same time, this is where the conversation becomes uncomfortable. Democracy is worth defending, but how exactly do you defend it without stumbling into catastrophic war? That’s the question nobody seems willing to wrestle with honestly anymore. On one side are those who sound eager for confrontation despite never experiencing conflict themselves. On the other are those who believe peace can always be purchased through accommodation and appeasement. History suggests both extremes are dangerous.

My father’s generation understood something we often forget: war is not a movie script. It destroys families, scatters generations, and leaves emotional wreckage that lasts for decades. The answer cannot be reckless provocation or chest-thumping social media bravado. But neither can the answer be quietly pressuring Taiwan into surrender under the banner of “stability.” Real leadership requires strength without arrogance, and diplomacy that doesn’t abandon core principles. That balancing act is extraordinarily difficult for any leader navigating a conflict with stakes this high.

President Trump should know that many immigrants who escaped authoritarian systems often appreciate freedom more deeply than Americans born into it. My father certainly did. He loved America fiercely — not because it was perfect, but because it gave him opportunity, dignity, and the ability to build a future his children never could have imagined. That perspective shaped me more than I realized growing up.

Even now, however, I still wrestle with the tension. Part of me understands the ancient pull of Chinese unity and heritage. After all, I cheered proudly for Yao Ming, Jeremy Lin, and Michael Chang. But another part of me looks at Taiwan and sees something profoundly worth protecting: freedom, self-determination, democracy, and the right of people to determine their own future without coercion. I suspect many older immigrants who publicly embraced “One China” quietly admired Taiwan’s freedoms more than they ever admitted out loud.

President Trump’s visit to China will generate endless hot takes from cable news warriors who couldn’t find Taiwan on a map if you circled it with a Sharpie. But beneath the politics lies something deeply human: families divided by history, people carrying multiple identities at once, and descendants like me trying to reconcile respect for our parents’ worldview with the realities of the modern world.

My father taught me many things — work hard, stay humble, keep your word, value faith and family. But perhaps the greatest lesson came indirectly through his journey itself: never take freedom for granted once you’ve seen what life looks like without it.

Dr. John Huang is a retired orthodontist, military veteran, and award-winning author. He currently serves as a columnist for Nolan Group Media and invites readers to follow him on social media @KYHuangs. His latest book is Whining for Posterity, available on Amazon.