I’M not an expat. I’m an immigrant,” declares 22-year-old NYU Shanghai graduate Charlie Howes, who has decided to forge a future in this city instead of returning to the United States for higher-paying opportunities.

Howes, from South Dakota, majored in interactive media business and did his minors in global China studies and Mandarin. He calls himself a “China-US cultural bridge” and takes a critical look at both on Xiaohongshu (RedNote) and Instagram.

His connection to China goes beyond social media: He moved here alone at 16 and now runs a consultancy in Shanghai’s Lingang Special Area, helping American brands enter China.

What keeps him in Shanghai? His network that “gets things done.”

Chasing a dream in Shanghai

Howes’ advantage is being a Gen-Z American who speaks both languages and understands both cultures, plus the connections he has built over the years. Despite his young entrepreneur confidence, he wants to be seen as more than “a white guy in Shanghai,” and more as a member of society.

“We’re all starting from scratch, trying to make it big together,” he says, referring to his Chinese peers. “That’s nothing like the foreigners who came to China before 2020.”

In late May, two months before his graduation, Howes got his business license.

He teamed up with a friend from his hometown to incorporate their company in Lingang, where they launched Mydian, an online platform for foreign brands to match Chinese distributors. They bootstrapped the company with two key projects: First, help “Fresh Now,” a laundry detergent brand hailing from their home state, distribute in China; second, facilitate the export of seafood from Qingdao and Liaoning to Costa Rica, a connection made through a classmate.

Howes’ family business is no small thing: It’s an fuel logistics and retail company that’s been operating for almost 90 years, delivering fuel to gas stations, hospitals and farms, plus running a chain of gas stations and convenience stores in the US Midwest.

Entrepreneurship was ingrained in Howes’ upbringing.

“I’ve always thought like a businessperson,” he says. “Believe it or not, I started paying taxes at 12 — I worked as a part-time soccer referee and made real income.”

He worked at a yoga studio, a warehouse and a coffee shop to hone his problem-solving skills.

“That’s the mindset you need as an entrepreneur,” he says. “Watching my dad run his business gave me the confidence to think, ‘I can do this too’.”

That confidence led him to his core business strategy in China: Spot gaps, then deliver unexpected value.

In his sophomore year, he sold mopeds.

“If someone bought one, I’d throw in extra — maybe a US contact or an event ticket. I figured out what they secretly wanted, then gave it to them. They paid for an e-bike but walked away with something that mattered more.”

He calls it a “win-win game,” the heart of how he does business.

Lingang’s policies on foreign talent gave him a boost early on: free company registration, cheap office space, and housing subsidies.

But challenges hit fast — the fluctuating US-China tariffs sent logistics costs soaring. Then, on May 12, news broke that the two countries would roll back reciprocal tariffs.

“That made me so happy,” he says. “It means I can ship sooner, lock in more funding, and finally get operations moving. If this momentum keeps up, I want to invite my South Dakota’s global trade promotion organization over for a mission.”

‘There’s no going back’

Many wonder why he left his family’s steady business to start over in China.

“It was always written in stone that I’d go abroad. Then the stone made it clear: Maybe I’ll spend the rest of my life in China.

“I saw China’s scale, its opportunities — that’s why I came.”

A little bit of teen rebellion, fate and an entrepreneurial spirit ultimately led to Howes packing his bags in 2019 to attend a Chinese high school at 16 years old.

Moving from rural South Dakota to Beijing was a shock.

“First off, it’s a big city.”

He enrolled in Beijing No. 80 High School’s international department, one of the capital’s best public schools. He followed the same schedule as his Chinese classmates: 7:45am to 5:30pm, then evening study sessions after dinner. In a year, his Chinese jumped from HSK1 to HSK5.

During COVID-19, he went back to South Dakota, where he spent a year working as a barista’s assistant at a family friend’s coffee shop. But he couldn’t stay away.

“Once you’ve been deep in the Chinese education system, you can’t go back,” he says. “Waking up at 7am to study 10 hours a day. After that, ‘normal’ life feels boring. You need to keep challenging yourself.”

So in winter 2022, 18-year-old Howes said goodbye to his family again. This time, he headed to Shanghai.

Classroom lessons

Howes enrolled in NYU Shanghai — a pivotal step in shaping the entrepreneur he is today.

At first, Howes majored in global China studies, thinking it would help him stay in China. But after a year, he switched to interactive media business.

“I wanted to stay, but I couldn’t get a job with just China studies,” he says matter-of-factly. “I’m not a grad school guy. I’m a business guy.”

His university days reflected that. “My friends joke about it,” he says. “They wake up, go to class, then hit the library all day. Me? I never miss a class ­— perfect attendance — but as soon as it’s over, I’m out, meeting people or working on business stuff.”

NYU Shanghai gave him invaluable experiences, especially for his entrepreneurial path. The most impactful class? Professor Gabrielle Chou’s course, where students had to start a company in 12 weeks and make real money.

Howes launched a moped rental business and sold 40 units — but for him, it was never just about sales.

“E-bikes come with risks, so I had every buyer sign a contract: Ride safely, get a license plate, wear a helmet,” he says.

He credits Professor Chou’s “tough, French-style teaching” for encouraging him to think like a real founder: “I learned everything: logistics, tracking revenue, convincing people to buy.”

A junior-year internship at William E. Connor, a US-owned sourcing firm in Hong Kong, also opened his eyes.

“All my coworkers were Chinese, living and working in Shanghai,” he says. “It was my first time in a cubicle, answering phones, calling HR, talking to factories in Dongguan, all in Chinese.”

It didn’t change his worldview, he says, “but it showed me what I’m capable of … and how big the world really is.”

Finding a home in the neighborhood

On May 25 this year, witnessed by his family, Howes walked up to the podium, gave a thumbs-up, and proudly accepted his diploma from the university president.

Two weeks after graduation, Howes packed up his apartment in Shangnan No. 2 Village in Pudong and moved to Changping Road in Jing’an District.

The two-bedroom ground-floor Pudong apartment with a backyard is where he felt at home in Shanghai.

“Before that, I lived in the university dormitory. Here, it’s mostly retired Shanghainese. I was one of the only foreigners,” he says.

“People would walk up and say, ‘What are you doing here?’ I’d say, ‘I live here,’ and they’d go, ‘That’s weird’!”

“But I get it — this isn’t where foreigners usually live.”

Yet what surprised him more was how quickly the neighborhood made him feel welcome.

Aunties would chat, give him life tips, and even play matchmaker.

“One old lady keeps telling me I need to get married because I’m 22!” he laughs. “She suggested I go to Nanjing Road E. and hold a ‘Kiss Me’ sign to find a wife.”

Under the jokes, though, was warmth.

“They treat me like a grandson, not a foreigner, not an outsider. That’s special.”

His new Changping Road apartment is in a younger, more central area, a choice he made on purpose.

“There are cool spots nearby, and I want to make friends who only speak Mandarin. It’s good for business,” he says.

This focus on language runs deeper: He knows fluency bridges cultures and creates chances.

“It’s rare to find someone who can really navigate both Chinese and American cultures,” he says, joking with tones: “If you’re a ‘中国通’ (China expert) and ‘美国通’ (US expert), then you’re ‘都通’ (all-expert), so you can ‘沟通’ (communicate).”

Staying to belong

Howes had several options: chasing a job at AmCham China in Beijing, taking over the family business, or moving to New York. However, he chose Shanghai.

“Guanxi (connection) is everything. After four years in Shanghai, my entire network is here. Why would I move anywhere else?” he says.

With age on his side, “I want to take a shot, start something, and make money.”

This isn’t solely about business; he wants to belong — not as a company-assigned expat, but as someone who has chosen China as home.

“I’ve been here since I was 16. I speak Mandarin. I pay average rent. I live with Chinese neighbors. I studied here. No company sent me. I’m here because I want to be — just like a lot of Gen-Zers,” he says.