Carry On Courage - Vivian Siu

This January, Rabeanco speaks to Hong Kong female Racer Vivian Siu on resilience, racing, and redefining strength

Interview conducted via phone as part of the Carry On Courage series.

Vivian’s story does not move in straight lines. It loops through cities and silences, through loss and velocity, through ambition that demanded everything — and reckoning that demanded restraint. It is not a triumph polished for display. It is quieter, more enduring.

 

Raised in New York by an immigrant single mother, Vivian learned early what it meant to shoulder weight — emotional, financial, generational — and how grace can exist even under pressure. Her father, though no longer part of their household, passed away not long after her mother did, leaving her without either parent at a young age. Today, known for her presence at the intersection of racing, finance, and storytelling, she speaks of resilience as something lived slowly and deliberately.

 

In this conversation, Vivian reflects on the moments that shaped her — the mother who carried her future before she could, the losses that displaced her too soon, the speed that steadied her, and the courage she continues to carry forward.

Q: You grew up in New York as the child of an immigrant single parent. What do you remember most about those early years?

What I remember most is how much my mother carried — emotionally and physically. We lived in a small studio apartment, and she worked long hours at a nail salon just to keep us afloat. Money was always tight. The pressure was constant.

But she held one belief with complete conviction: she wanted me to have choices she never had. Education was her dream for me. Even when resources were scarce, that hope was something she carried every single day — and eventually passed on to me.

Q: You lost your mother at sixteen. How did that moment change the direction of your life?

When my mother passed away, I dropped out of high school and returned to Hong Kong to live with my estranged father. I felt unrooted — emotionally and geographically. And then, not long after, my father passed away too. Losing both parents at such a young age left me with a kind of loneliness that’s hard to describe.

It was a period of grief, responsibility, and uncertainty all at once. And yet, that time taught me something I still believe today: sometimes courage is simply continuing — even when the path isn’t visible.

Q: During that time, you found comfort in racing arcade games. Why racing?

Racing gave me focus when everything else felt chaotic. In that virtual world, there were rules, structure, momentum. If you made a mistake, you adjusted and kept going. It sounds small, but those games carried me through a very dark period. They gave me a sense of movement when I felt completely stuck.

In hindsight, that was the beginning of my relationship with speed — not as adrenaline, but as a way of coping.

Q: You eventually pursued racing professionally while working full-time in finance. What was that period like?

Exhausting — but meaningful. Racing is demanding in every way, especially financially. I worked full-time in finance while training and funding my own racing career, constantly bouncing between two intense worlds.

I was fortunate to compete in Formula races, including the Macau Grand Prix. Those moments meant so much to me. But sustaining a professional racing career without full backing wasn’t realistic long-term.

Letting go of that dream was painful. But it wasn’t defeat. It was understanding that strength sometimes means knowing what you can carry — and what you can’t — at different stages of life.

Q: Today, you’ve shifted from competition to storytelling. Why is sharing your journey important to you now?

For a long time, I thought my story was too fragmented to matter. But coming as someone who was a high school dropout, who lost both parents at a young age, and who was at one point homeless — I’ve realized that many people feel lost, hopeless, and unseen.

I want to share my journey for them.

Strength doesn’t always look fast or glamorous. Sometimes it looks like endurance. Sometimes it looks like simply holding on.

If my story helps even one hopeless or lost person feel less alone — or believe that anything can happen — then it’s worth sharing.

And it’s been especially meaningful this week, because my movie just became available on Cathay Pacific. Having my work reach people in unexpected places reminds me that stories can travel further than we imagine.

Q: “Carry On Courage” centres on what we choose to carry. What does courage mean to you today?

Courage has evolved for me.

It used to mean pushing harder, going faster, proving myself. Now it means carrying your past without letting it define you. It’s the quiet decision to keep going — from grid to glamour, or anywhere in between — without losing who you are along the way.

We all carry something. What matters is how we carry it.

Closing Thoughts — From Grid to Glamour

Vivian’s story is not about racing alone. It is about movement — through grief and geography, through ambition and restraint. It is about learning when speed heals, and when slowing down sustains.

“In the end, my story isn’t about choosing one dream over another. It’s about carrying them all. Fulfilling my mother’s wishes — completing my education and building a career in banking — gave me independence and grounding. Racing gave me freedom. Together, they formed the trilogy that shaped my life: education, finance, and the courage to keep moving forward.”

 

Carry On Courage is not a celebration of spectacle, but of survival — the kind shaped quietly, carried patiently, and lived with intention. In Vivian’s telling, courage is not the absence of weight, but the grace with which we continue to bear it.