In a Winter Olympics marked by dazzling athleticism and charged political undertones, two Chinese American superstars—Eileen Gu and Alysa Liu—have captured the world’s attention for more than just their medal counts. Their stories, intertwined by geography and heritage but split by national allegiance, have sparked heated debates that stretch far beyond the slopes and rinks of Milano Cortina 2026.
Born just two years apart in California, Eileen Gu and Alysa Liu share strikingly parallel beginnings. Gu, born in San Francisco in September 2003, and Liu, born in Clovis in 2005, both grew up in the Bay Area, raised by single parents who emigrated from China. Their early success was nothing short of prodigious: Liu became the youngest U.S. women’s senior figure skating champion at age 14 in 2019, while Gu claimed her first World Cup gold in slopestyle just two days later. Yet, from that moment, their paths diverged dramatically.
Gu’s journey led her to represent China, a decision that would make her both a national icon and a lightning rod for controversy. After splitting her childhood between California and Beijing, and becoming fluent in Mandarin, Gu officially changed her sporting nationality in June 2019. Her stated goal? “To help inspire millions of young people in China and to unite people, promote common understanding, create communication, and forge friendships between nations,” she announced on Instagram. The move coincided with China’s active campaign to recruit overseas athletes with Chinese heritage, particularly in the lead-up to the 2022 Beijing Winter Olympics.
Meanwhile, Liu’s connection to China was shaped by her father’s dramatic past. Arthur Liu, once president of the Guangzhou Autonomous Student Union, participated in the 1989 Tiananmen Square protests and fled to the U.S. after refusing to betray fellow activists. His harrowing escape through Hong Kong and eventual settlement in California became family legend. “His persistence, and he’s brave too,” Alysa told Fox News Digital. “We all knew about it, he had some stories for us, but we also found out from our other relatives.”
Both athletes soared on the Olympic stage, but their choices of flag have made them symbols in a larger cultural and political conversation. At Milano Cortina 2026, Gu became the most decorated Olympic freestyle skier, adding two silvers in slopestyle and big air to her two golds and a silver from 2022. Liu, after a brief retirement following the 2022 Games, returned triumphantly to win gold in the women’s individual figure skating event and contributed to Team USA’s gold in the team event.
Their sporting achievements are only half the story. Gu’s switch to Team China has drawn fierce criticism from some American commentators, who see her as having “betrayed” her country of birth. U.S. Vice President JD Vance summed up this sentiment: “Somebody who grew up in the USA, who benefited from our education system, from the freedoms and liberties that make this country a great place, I would hope that they want to compete with the United States.” Gu, however, has been quick to respond. “So many athletes compete for a different country,” she told USA Today. “People only have a problem with me because they lump China into this monolithic entity, and they just hate China.”
For Liu, the experience of representing the U.S. has been complicated by ongoing security concerns. Ahead of the 2022 Olympics, she and her father were targeted by a Chinese government spying operation. “They are probably just trying to intimidate us, to… in a way threaten us not to say anything, to cause trouble to them and say anything political or related to human rights violations in China… I had concerns about her safety. The U.S. government did a good job protecting her,” Arthur Liu told The Associated Press. Alysa herself described the experience as “a little bit freaky and exciting,” and recounted meetings with FBI agents who ensured her family’s safety throughout the Games.
Liu’s return to the ice in 2024 was on her own terms, following a period of trauma and avoidance of the rink after Beijing. “She became really unhappy,” Arthur Liu explained to USA Today. “She avoided the ice rink at all costs. She was traumatized. She was just traumatized. She was suffering from PTSD and she wouldn’t go near the ice rink.” Yet her comeback was nothing short of remarkable: by March 2025, she became the first American in 19 years to win the World Figure Skating Championships, culminating in her historic gold at Milano Cortina.
Gu, meanwhile, has leveraged her fame into unprecedented financial success. According to Forbes, she was the fourth highest-paid female athlete in the world in 2026, earning $23.1 million in 2025—mostly from endorsements with global brands like Louis Vuitton, Tiffany, and major Chinese companies. The Beijing Municipal Sports Bureau reportedly paid Gu and fellow American-born figure skater Zhu Yi nearly $14 million over three years for their Olympic qualifying efforts.
Yet, with this visibility comes scrutiny. Gu’s citizenship status remains a mystery—China does not allow dual citizenship, and she has not publicly renounced her U.S. citizenship. She’s also faced criticism for her silence on China’s human rights record, particularly regarding the Uyghurs. In an interview with TIME Magazine, Gu deflected: “I haven’t done the research. I don’t think it’s my business. I’m not going to make big claims on my social media… It’s irresponsible to ask me to be the mouthpiece for any agenda.”
Gu’s own words reflect the unique pressures she faces: “As someone who has got caught in the crossfire before, I feel sorry for the athletes. I hope that they can ski to their very best.” She has also revealed the toll that public backlash has taken: “I’ve had death threats. I’ve had my dorm robbed. I’ve gone through some things as a 22-year-old that I really think no one should ever have to endure, ever,” she told The Athletic.
Liu, for her part, has embraced her father’s legacy and her own role in a story that could one day hit the big screen. “They gotta make me look like super cool hero or something. And just, I can’t just be the kid that got spied on and did nothing about it,” she said. “But honestly, I would just have the main focus be like my dad’s story, because like his story is so cool and like also just like everything that only happened because of what he did.”
Their stories are a microcosm of the complexities facing young athletes in an increasingly globalized—and polarized—world. They are both more than symbols; they are fearless competitors, creative forces, and, above all, young women navigating the weight of global expectations. As Milano Cortina 2026 continues, all eyes remain on Gu and Liu—not just for their next moves on the ice and snow, but for what their journeys say about identity, loyalty, and the ever-shifting landscape of international sport.
With medals won and the world watching, Gu and Liu stand as testaments to the power—and the price—of chasing greatness across borders.