I grew up in New York City, one of four kids, in a house where both parents worked.
 

When I was seventeen, I was chosen to travel to China through a nonprofit that ran study-abroad programs at my high school. Most of it was subsidized. Not all of it.
 

So my mother baked cookies out of our kitchen and sold them — to family, friends, neighbors, coworkers, anyone who would buy a box. My father delivered them. I remember helping bake and package them, boxes covering the kitchen table.
 

It was my first time on a plane and my first time out of the country. The Great Wall, Tiananmen Square, Beijing — places I had only seen in textbooks became real and reachable. I went on to major in history with a focus on Asian Studies and studied the language and culture for four years. That trip put me in rooms I wouldn't have known existed.
 

My parents were the first entrepreneurs I ever saw. They just didn't call it that.