Defining You

"In haste nobody can come to know himself. It is a very very deep awaiting. Infinite patience is needed...When you move inwards you will come to the light without any source. In that light, for the first time you start understanding yourself, who you are..."

-Osho from "What is Meditation"

The self. No answer has ever satisfied anyone fully as to what is the self. I think that there is no answer that can truly be found. Only the ability to know oneself at a single moment is possible. You can know yourself completely for that one moment. You will grasp it and hold onto it with all your might but then it will fall from your grasp as you grow. Only when you halt yourself, arrest yourself from everything around you can you move towards yourself

Emptiness

"If you really want to know who I am,
you will have to be absolutely empty as I am.
Then two mirrors will be facing each other,
and only emptiness will be mirrored."

-Osho

What exactly is emptiness?

Is it that empty feeling that you get when your heart has been ripped out and you think you can't feel anything? You walk mindlessly around with mechanical motions only scraping by? Is it that emptiness that wraps around you when you're faced with something that is beyond you? Is it that feeling that people get when they see something they think they need and they want so badly but they know it's impossible to obtain? That one unachievable goal that goes beyond the "nothing is impossible" and you must reach deep into the depths of hell to even hope to catch a glimmer of your desires?

I don't know. Just as you all, I am confused. I am a confused soul trying to find a mirror. What am I? Who am I? I hope to find a mirror so I can see myself, hoping deep inside that I might find something that is worth something. But then, do I really want to know what I am? I don't think it's ever that answer that we are really looking for: who am I? It's our scapegoat. What the rich is to the poor, what the poor is to the rich. What the lazy are to the driven, what the driven are to the lazy. We ask the question of who am I so we can stop thinking about what we can do.

I think that, right now, this is my emptiness. I find my purpose to be a scapegoat, something wrong because I sought an answer to something; this seeking only sought to make me stop seeking. So this emptiness is what is. Kind of my way, so to speak. Emptiness.

Like the man who does not seek to fill himself by driving forward with a purpose, but knows that he is in the present and that's all there really needs to be. Seeking no achievement, but only living.

Because the man who lives can be seen to be empty, empty of that drive, that greed, that which can be full of sin. And with living there is no need to be filled with emotion, but there is only the ability to be.

Can you imagine that 5 years ago we were such great friends? You and I were connected we read each other's thoughts, ate together worked together ran together laughed together.

Five Years ago in one week and 4 days I hold my greatest memory. You were to me everything that went right after everything just really went wrong. And nothing will ever change that, even as we drift apart and we don't talk and I can't talk really can I but can you talk to me do you even remember what happened so long ago? We drifted apart and you were never as affected or ever knew really of what I had gone through and we've both moved on.

But on days like this when I see the snow and I remember the biting cold that we endured as we went through those 3 movies hopping through the theater for so many hours it was so fun. I'll take a stop a breather a break that day when I get home and remember and maybe I'll write a letter to you. But I know I'll never send it to you because I know I'll never let you read it because both of us have moved on and now I'm looking back and I smile but I don't think too long because that's one thing I might just maybe fear.

Snow

Yeah,

Tonight everything will maybe just disappear.

For a while I'll sleep in that twilight zone and maybe

just maybe an angel will come by and wisk me away.

Last night was perfect

so perfect until everything went wrong

and now i'm left a husk, no shell,

dreaming about what should have been.

One day

I'll wake up

forgetting your look

as I turned away

and maybe

I'll smile

I'm decided.

I will learn this winter:
Korean.
Finish a Programming Book and focus on the way of thinking.
Exercise 2-3 hrs everyday.

Notes on Coal lol

Labadie Environmental Organization

1. Coal Combustion Waste
2. 135 Million Tons produced; second largest waste stream;
3. Little accountability and communication between levels of government
4. Utilizing Public Waterways-->For Pollutive Use
5. How do you manage communication between local government and national government.
6. Why is Coal a problem?
7. Chemicals cause problems
8. Environmental Pathways of CCW Contamination
9. Ground Water
10. drinking Water
11. Fugitive Parciiul= matter
12. Not one country can promote without encentive'
13. LEO's Basic Demands
14. Informed Decision making process:
15. Protective Sitting Criteria
16. sitting on our discussions, government is going to bed
17. Need Engaged Communities, Responsible Governemtn Dark n
18. Engaged/informed community, responsive government willing to regulate based on teh best science and responsivev and innovative bui
19. Lack of adequate regulation and monitoring in CCW Analysis

Actions

1. Partipate in discussions-locally, regionally, and internationally
2. Work Collaboratively
3. demand solutiosn and push governemnts to invest in renewable and sustainable energy production
4. only consir solutions that reduce toxic load
5. demand standards monitoring,a nd reporting and accountability by the leaders
6. Provide incentive for dialogue between smaller communities to understand Landfills and what happens with it's

A dark man blurs against the shadows as he follows through the crowd. Nobody sees him and nobody reacts to him; he is nothing against the onrush of thoughts and visions and goals and ideas and dreams and wishes that fight against him. He moves forward, each step pulling himself away, pulling, pushing himself through. No resistance against him but so much on him, he can't move, he must go forward there isn't anything he can do what will happen?

Breath in Breath out.

The Image

An Image*

Captures me in its eternity.

Dark Hollow eyes burrow into my soul,

An unforgiving stare that pleads no forgiveness

But asks only to forget. Why

His ribs jab into his skin. Why

He is too weak to play outside his own home. Why

His sister has to wash him and feed him. Why

His phantom arm cries out in pain.

In anger he yells and screams

For all the loss that he only knows.

Why

But his voice is nothing against

The sirens of blaring propaganda

So he can only stare,

Dark hollow eyes that burrow into my soul,

Asking only to forget

*Inspired by an image of North Korean boy

The Man stares at a wall

The man stares at a wall in fear of everything around him. He fears what he will find if his curiosity bears down and breaks his will. But what is the wall? Is it nothing? The man finds himself alone against a wall with nothing but everything in his way. Choices and choices and nothing remains except him stacked against everything, a result of all the choices he had made. Is it the end of his ways?

He looks up and does Nothing

He looks up and does nothing, with awe he can only stare. He fears his own action so he gazes not at what he sees but beyond into what he thinks he believes. Close-minded and blinded by his own convictions he thinks he is right when in fact he is nothing. His beliefs cloud his judgment, his actions bring out nothing, and only his words may they help another realize what he lacks in substance. Maybe someday he'll look back and he should look back and realize how fucked up this game that he called life was. But right now he sits and thinks that him doing nothing is his calling, his mission, his pathway to whatever heaven.

He cries in his sleep

He cries in his sleep, only a shadow of his daily self. With all the masks that weigh him down, no sleep will truly give him the rest he deserves. His toil and trouble to hide his true person is shackled with weights. Did he think that their absent minds would not tear at his own heart? If only to protect all from what he is, he will step aside and let things be. And in this act, will their hearts also burst in tears?

He looks down at his hands

He looks down at his hands, this way nothing will stop him. So no one will see his rebellious eyes he looks down at his burning hands so that no angry other will burn hatred into him, so that the first time he looks up he will be untainted by his fellows and be able to spread his own self for all the world to see. So no one will crush him when he is down, so no one will cage him from what he is, he will act like him and her and all the other rests of them. He will cage himself with lock and key so that he can be strong for others when they are weak.

He tears at his own hands

He tears at his own hands, desperately trying to free himself from the lightning that had seized him, it's burning slash shocking his being down to his soul. He tears at his own hands to let himself go, to be free of the heat that burns his core. He feels for something, something to take hold of him so he can let go of all he has done wrong. Because he is weak and he knows before everyone else when he will fail. But he does it anyway for that something called belief that was forsaken so long ago as scapegoats blinded the soul and cut deeper than any blade could ever penetrate.

I am finding myself awake and asleep at the most inopportune moments

"...Few people wanted to read about the Holocaust. Such depressing subject matter.

But we cannot indefinitely avoid depressing subject matter, particularly if it is true, and in the subsequent quarter century the world has had to hear a story it would have preferred not to hear--the story of how a cultured people turned to genocide, and how the rest of the world, also composed of cultured people, remained silent in the face of genocide."

- Robert McAfee Brown in his Preface to Wiesel's "Night"

It is rare to read a book of such depth like Elie Wiesel's "Night" without spending many late nights pondering the implications that each word has had and will have on mankind. For those people who haven't read "Night," this nonfiction account of the Holocaust is a novel written with terrifying detail and power. Speaking in such chilling clarity to discuss such a dark topic about genocide, "Night" serves as a direct source that depicts the effects that attempted and often successful genocide has on those afflicted.

But Elie Wiesel's story is not the reason I was so affected by this book this summer. In fact, I never read past the preface! I picked this book up while sitting in my living room and, having read it before, I was only looking for a quick, light read. But after sitting down and reading it, I was forced to quite literally stop after reading Brown's preface. Why? Brown's words had such a force in them that I was forced to stop and consider them before turning to the first chapter of Wiesel's "Night."

Earlier this summer I wrote about an interesting book I read, "Complicity with Evil." This book is a tale of the United Nations. A most accurate summary of this book and it's topic is present in a quote that is found preceding the Table of Contents; "No failure did more to damage the standing and credibility of United Stations peacekeeping in the 1990s than its reluctance to distinguish victim from aggressor" (Executive summary of the United Nations 2000 report on its peacekeeping operations). Ironically, this book has increased my desire to see myself working at the UN 10 years from the current date.

But how does "Complicity with Evil" tie in with Robert McAfee Brown's preface to "Night?" Let us examine the given quote:

"...Few people wanted to read about the Holocaust. Such depressing subject matter.

But we cannot indefinitely avoid depressing subject matter, particularly if it is true, and in the subsequent quarter century the world has had to hear a story it would have preferred not to hear--the story of how a cultured people turned to genocide, and how the rest of the world, also composed of cultured people, remained silent in the face of genocide."

- Robert McAfee Brown in his Preface to Wiesel's "Night

During my reflections, it became quite clear that I was alarmed by the fact that Adam Lebor, the author of "Complicity with Evil," was able to demonstrate proof that the UN was unable to "confront the realities of genocide" due to actions taken by its own members, namely China. And it brought great fear knowing that the genocide that existed during the Holocaust, now only a "story of how a cultured people turned to genocide, and how the rest of the world, also composed of cultured people, remained silent in the face of genocide," was clearly able to penetrate into the populations of our planet.

It is curious that in our generation all the endearing truths of past generations still remain true to us. Only a blind man would assume that, as our world progresses, the disregard for events happening not in our direct gaze would diminish. It is a truth that our world is concerned only for those events occurring around us. Take for instance the events currently occurring in Pakistan. Right now Pakistan is seeing it's worst floods in 80 years. And when I arrive home I hear it mentioned on the radio once before the station goes back to it's music. This is a big difference from events like the Haiti Earthquake or Hurricane Katrina, events that occurred on our side of the hemisphere. In New Orleans, people still talk about Hurricane Katrina as if it happened yesterday while there is hardly any mention of the Pakistan disaster that is far worse in magnitude than Hurricane Katrina ever was.

But these are talks of natural disasters, events where aid can be sent but where the event itself cannot be prevented. In terms of large scale man made disasters, Darfur is an event comparable to the Holocaust. In Darfur, Adam LeBor claims that the UN delayed the declaration of Darfur as a genocide because it was not in the interests of the permanent powers of the UN, since the members of the UN would be required to step in with a military presence in the declaration of a genocide. Darfur exists today as the site of guerrilla warfare in Sudan. Although a ceasefire has recently been signed, there is currently no resolution to this civil war. After reflecting on this fact, it became clear to me that the warnings given in Wiesel's "Night" have largely been ignored by our generation.

It is depressing indeed to find that the generation before us has been unable to learn from the lessons given to them by the generation before them and I fear that this might also be the case with my generation as we look back 50 years into the future upon what we have accomplished. Only I hope that our collective conscious has grown so that we never come across such a sad day where regret stains our bodies and souls as I know love will on our days of happiness and joy.

"It is a sad day for all of us, and to none is it sadder than to me. Everything that I have worked for, everything that I have believed in during my public life, has crashed into ruins. There is only one thing left for me to do: That is, to devote what strength and powers I have to forwarding the victory of the cause for which we have to sacrifice so much..."

Neville Chamberlain - 3rd September 1939

Question to Myself

Why do we exist in our world except to further improve the lives of those surrounding us?

42

Shanghai, Beijing, Hong Kong

So you can't access blogspot in China apparently, too much free speech, so I'm writing from Hong Kong, so here is my story from the last I wrote until now.

Shanghai:



I went to the awesome Shanghai Expo with my cousin and we basically hung out. Ended up sleeping at a sketch hotel but it was pretty fun. Stayed at my relatives' place outside of Shanghai for most of the trip so nothing eventful happened.

Beijing:

So Every Night Out it was pretty fun I met up with Linda too at some place in Beijing day of Dragon Boat Festival.

I had some great hot dogs every night after going out lol they were delicious...

But when i got stuck at the Beijing Airport the highlight of my day were a group of old Korean Ladies loudly cheering on the South Korean v Argentina match. They were louder than the 100+ 200+ other people in the entire building. You gotta love them.

HK:

Not a lot, I got sick a week into coming here so that was a bummer. But I do have some pictures, work hasn't officially started yet though.

Bruce lee.
Dim Sum Photos!

All in all it's been pretty good be back later.

Orangina

So the past couple of days was a whirlwind of excitement as I drove 2 days from New Orleans to Pennsylvania. Along the way I ate 36 McNuggets (and swore off McDonalds in the process), got 2 fortunes, heard about a the Great Beaver which will forever be held as a symbol of hope in our dying world, and started reading Ender in Exile, part of the Ender's Game series, one of the deepest books I have ever read.



I stayed at an excellent motel called the Red Roof Inn. On the AAA advertisement, they advertised continental breakfast. There was no such thing. Also, in the middle of the night, I chanced upon a pool of water from the A/C. Great motel.





If you've ever been on a road trip with me, you'd know that my drink of choice is Arizona Green Tea. On the first day, I went through 3 of them, not because they're necessarily the best tasting tea out there, but because they're a tradition that I began starting with my first Hurrication way back before Katrina. I think it was in 1998? But anyways, I found these amusing new tea brands which are obviously modeled directly off of Arizona Green Tea. This Tea Brand, however, was called Peace Tea and advertised a peace sign along with a very green can- at least two of the people were also dressed in green. Foreshadow something? Yeah. But the signs on the can were curious in that "Question Authority" and "Be Your Own Master" were the only two signs available on this can that called for Peace. This is in fact interesting, cause I would think that these two ideas would lead to conflict, rather than peace. Well, in the simplest case I suppose.




After crossing into the great land of West Virginia, my parents decided to stop at the welcome center because my dad, equipped with a highly advanced GPS System, had decided that we were lost. GPS 1 Dad 0



So onto the first fortune I got, it's a blurry picture, but it reads "Beauty is its various forms appeals to you." In my Chinglish Autocorrection, the fortune became "Beauty in its various forms appeals to you." Small error. I was impressed. I really don't have much to say about this, however, because it's true. Beauty



Right after that this old lady in a red car started cursing her son out for a reason I don't really understand. And then, to make everything even more beautiful in the world, the son started cursing her out. Yay life.



"Your deeds speak so much louder than another's words"--I actually slightly disagree with this statement. While I do believe that what you do truly shows who you are, I would amend this statement to "Your deeds speak so much louder than your words." Consider this, some people's words are their greatest tool to creating change. In a previous post I talked about the UN. In the book i read, Kofi Annan had the capacity to generate considerable action in events that were defined unofficially as genocides. He regrets that he did not push harder in causing deeds to be done that might have prevented further genocide. In his case, his words had greater power than anything he could have done by himself. Although I guess one of his deeds could have been a speech where he gives words to enact change.



These last two pictures are my sister and her friends. More photos will follow.

I need to work.

So today when I got up to work, I woke up rather refreshed and satisfied, soemthign that I have not felt since the last day I spent with my friends at Washu. It's rather curious how I look forward to summer for the entire spring semester but when I do get to it (if living at WashU and working is called summer) I want school to start up again.

But truthfully, I think what I wish the most is to have a face to face conversation with my friends. I enjoy texting, I really do, sometimes, actually most times, texting just doesn't cut it. I don't really understand my high school friends' (those still in high school currently) obsession with texting. I was reading chris' blog the other day and he raised a really good point about how a couple years difference between me the college freshman and them the high school students completely defines a barrier in the whole 'texting phenomenon.'

It's funny how a year ago today (give or take a couple months), I had a texting plan of 200 and rarely went over 100. I intensely disliked texting because, frankly, it was my belief that unless you were with them, there really isn't much point in communicating. I mean, the occasional catch-up email is great and all, but my favorite joy is visiting people. Now, however, I have a 1000 text plan and I often go over, to my parents' great dismay. How did this happen?

Everyone knows that I visit people a lot. For some reason all my friends say I know everybody. I guess I do know a lot of people, but it's cause during the school year, if you're given the opportunity to visit people and you have time, why not? Having people to talk to is always great, and I always try and make time for people.

But hopefully my friends will learn that schoolwork takes priority. I know some people may or may not have realized that this year as the school year went on and I became more and more studious (I know right, strange for me at the beginning of the year...) Instead of not studying (like for the first two bio tests) so I could talk to people and hang out, I began concentrating on studying. And because of this I started texting people instead of visiting. And next year will only be even more intense. I know exactly how it'll be, even though i'll deny it if you talk to me. I'll spend the majority of my time studying in the library (which one I don't know) during the day and at Mudd (probably with Kathee cause she's a great study buddy) at night because that's how I am. I mean, you'll see me at KSA, CSA, AMC, and Lambda Sigma Events (lol) and you might catch me at lunch, but other than that, not likely.

I'm not wholy (is that right?) part of the texting community and I only respond to texts, I rarely initiate, so if you ever want to talk to me come to Mudd at night. Or call me to find out wher I am.

Of if you want to hang out weekends are preferable lol.

This was just a big rant about what to expect from me. No real meaning, probably wasted your time but I'm at work and don't really want to go to work yet.

Poem from a Friend

It's a poem from a friend about no one I know.


and were you aware

that your footsteps still echo in my head

beating a path i cannot go down again

sometimes the easiest way to cut you out is to manifest doubt

but messy spill it makes watching it become my biggest mistake

listen closely

put your ear to my heart hear the diminuendo from the start

the sounds are crashing flashing signs not to cross those lines


and all this change

who knew it would have such far-reaching range

i cant see the same

i cant feel the same

i cant work the same


waiting waiting waiting for the hope that never came

"there is no effort without error and shortcoming; but who does actually strive to do the deeds; who knows great enthusiasms, the great devotions; who spends himself in a worthy cause; who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement, and who at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly"

TR

I spent a really long time shopping in the past week looking for something to buy. I went to Urban and saw these dandly little inspirational books that don't really have any meaning except to make the reader feel better and then enable them to sit around feeling great while they do absolutely nothing. It was kind of ironic that I read this quote when I got back onto the internet when I came home from the Galleria, as here I was, unable to really do anything (exercise) because of my damn knee and not 'knowledgeable' enough of 'experienced' enough to achieve anything right now. But within me, and everyone really, is the greatest ability of them all, potential. we hear it all the time, and let it go to waste. Our untapped potential. We sit at home playing games, doing nothing, thinking in our classes as we fall asleep what we want to be, what we really want to do. Do we ever do it?

So this year was really a waste. Don't get me wrong, I thoroughly enjoyed it and I love everyone who took part in making this year as awesome as it was. But really, what do I get out of it? This summer, I'll get this great feeling of satisfaction as I help a kid learn english or physics or poetry or tai chi or soccer or something. It'll be awesome. But then I'll think about the Genocide that is happening in Darfur, the Serbian war that happened a few years ago, the failure of the world to do anything against the modern crimes of our time. And what have i really accomplished. I need to expend all my effort to achieving a higher goal. I need to find that goal.

We humans, we feel powerless against anything not within our control. But is really anything in our control? Look at the stock market plunge, a computer error which cost companies millions of dollars. Look at Greece. Look at the UN, a entity that aims to keep peace but cannot even prevent genocide. Everything that man has created are tools that have gone above us. Do we really understand our governments? Our people? Our businesses? Do we understand how it all works and is put together? Even if we do, can we control it?

Each day, as I was taught (without my control), I set a new goal for myself. This year, due to things not within my control and some things that are arguably in my control, I have failed myself. Time and time again.

What have we really learned from all this? Nothing. We still see ourselves for who we think we are. Our perceptions, those lies that our brain feeds us to keep itself satisfied, deceives us and causes conflict between people. And through this conflict, nations tense as they see war in the future. And the people who make up the nations our blinded, blinded by the very entities that they think protect them. The UN. The Media. The Governments of each Nation. They are all out for their own personal interest, created by mankind's unsuppressed greed and fueled by the ignorance of the masses.

I seek in life only to center myself. To isolate myself from this madness so that I may heal others and bring them away from this cycle of chaos. But only if I can control myself.

Studying Bio.

Need to order Plane Tickets.

Finish Bio Studying tomorrow during the day.
Start DiffEq Studying!! Review everything and tomorrow will be major work!

WORK WORK WORK

Final Paper!

Modernization

Where did we go wrong in this world?

Why was I born as who I am,

Why was I born into this family?

You ask me how much I can give

But you forget about all the other things you demand

I want to run away into the field,*

I’m hoping that all my tracks will be concealed *

So I can get away,

emerge into a new life without all the pressures

you weigh on me.
I have made all the mistakes,

All I have done has created you

And me.

There’s not really anywhere to go

And all I need is time,

Something forgotten as we drive

Towards McDonald’s

And drown our sorrows in their fat.
*Red Hot Chili Peppers Lyrics




Introduction by a cousin

This is not about my experiences with Chinese culture; neither is it about me. This is a set of stories about my cousin’s experiences and the pressures that she lives with everyday as a teenager growing up in China. To begin with, Yiyi (一依) is my only cousin, the daughter of my only aunt on my mom’s side. She and my aunt, her mother, live together in a small apartment in Wuxi, China, a two-hour train trip from Shanghai, China, half a world away from my home and over 1500 km from our grandparents. Her father, a migrant worker and a direct product of Chinese modernization, is the descendant of a line of farmers-turned-migrant-workers. He met Yiyi’s mother when he helped her move to Wuxi.

During the course of Yiyi’s life, her parents pressured her to study as hard as possible so that she could succeed. The stories below describe the turmoil that she and people around her felt as she grew up. While my upbringing in America makes me an outsider to many of the cultural differences, problems, and pressures with which she deals, my own experiences and correspondence with Yiyi have given me insight into her life, so I can effectively describe the effect of modernization on her family in a series of short vignettes here Some of the characters described here are fictional, but they are based on real events or people that I have encountered in China. Understanding modernization in China from an academic perspective is important in dealing with the ramifications of modernization, but knowing how individuals who must undergo the transition period in China directly deal with situations can prove just as enlightening. This fictional story will not provide an exact representation of the effects of modernization in China. Instead, these vignettes will serve as a different medium for the reader to understand the effects of modernization on a group of people.


1

My Normal Family

I am the only daughter of a regular Chinese family in the late 20th century. My life is normal. I have a dad and a mom. I go to school, play with friends, and study a lot, just like every other student in China. Because of the one-child policy, which pays for the majority of my education since I am the first child, my parents do not have to worry about money when it comes to raising me. As the only child, their future depends on my success. Thus I am always being told that hard work in class will lead to success and happiness. For them, success and happiness means getting high marks in the high school entrance exam. Getting into a high school will decide my life, they tell me. In my eyes, my mom and dad are the happiest people alive. Even though they do not think they are successful, they are my parents and I want to be like them-happy.

My mom showers me with love and tells all of her friends how successful I will be whenever I score in the top of the class. My mom works at Jiangnan Da Xue (Jiangnan University) as a Japanese Professor. Whenever a coworker of my mom asks after me, she always goes on about how I am such a hard worker and how she does not need to push me to do any work because I push myself to study. Whenever her colleagues talk about me, she is so happy that she pampers me with delicious food and refuses to let me do any chores.

My mom and dad push me a lot to study. Even more so than my teachers or classmates, my parents pressure me to do well in school. They always try to push me to study, giving me treats whenever I do well to encourage me to study more and punishing me when my grades drop. Their current incentive is McDonald’s. My parents first took me to McDonald’s after my relatives had told them that McDonald’s is really cheap and exists everywhere in America. A symbol of America, it is a symbol of modernization in China. As a result, my parents must have thought that bringing me to McDonald’s would encourage me to work harder by showing me what the possibilities are if you are successful. It did. Well, at least initially. After the first time I was introduced to the clean, welcoming atmosphere of McDonald’s, I always wanted to go back. To me, McDonald’s was a place where I could relax without being burdened by the pressures of school and my parents. Whenever I walked in, I could see people from all walks of life—families, teenagers hanging out, businessmen, and, most especially, waiguoren (foreigners). I enjoyed seeing the happiness of McDonald’s customers and I began to crave this happiness away from studying. Nowadays, I crave McDonald’s. I only want to eat the Beijing Kao Ya Wrap. I love lounging around; eating French fries and watching people shuffle in and out of McDonald’s.

I entered Junior High one year before my introduction to McDonald’s. In order to encourage me to do well in school, my parents told me that I could go to McDonald’s whenever I did well on a test. However, all I could think about was the happiness in the people at McDonald’s. Didn’t my parents want me to find happiness? Why can’t I just work at McDonald’s? I would be happy! The cleanliness, the success, and the happiness made it difficult for me to study. McDonald’s is making me more modern. Parental pressure, pressure from my mom’s colleagues, and pressure from my friends all bear down upon me as I slip from the top of the class. My parents always tell me that life is not worth it if you cannot get into high school. With my grades, is my life not worth living? How can I improve? What is happening to me?

2

The Memoir of the Mother

Yiyi, this is my story:

When I met your dad, he was living in a small apartment next to mine. Whenever I needed help, he helped me and familiarized me with the Wuxi traditions. It was a small town when I first moved there and he knew more than me about Wuxi, even though he was a migrant worker. I was young then, and he was the only one who was always there for me. I guess in the idealism of my youth, I was blinded by all the western stories of true love rather than the traditional Chinese arranged marriages. Even though he was a migrant worker and I was working at Jiangsu University, I loved him

We married without tradition, as your grandparents did not approve of the marriage. No marriage pictures were taken, even though many of his friends in the countryside had done so when they took their marriage trip to the city. We did not hold a traditional marriage celebration or even a Western ceremony as many of my friends had done— we were just too poor. My job as a teacher paid little, and his migrant worker job was unstable and his paycheck often arrived late.

When you were born, we shared the joy that was you in our life. I went in order to support you until you could support yourself. We were poor, but we were happy. As you grew older and emerged as the top of your class, we could not help but express our happiness. It was like all we wanted to do was praise our ancestors and keep on encouraging you. You were everything to us. You were our only joy. Even with the difficulties in our life, everything was okay because you would get into a good high school. Once, when you were in fourth grade, I was enjoying some tea at work with some coworkers during break when one of my colleagues, Professor Wang who taught English, approached me and begged me for advice in how his son could work as hard as you did. I was so surprised by this statement and I pondered for a moment.

My daughter? More successful than the English professor’s son? That cannot be, I thought, he must be joking. When I laughed, however, Professor Wang just looked at me curiously and asked me if I thought he was joking. That night when I came home, I was so happy that you were the best in class that I felt that I could splurge a little and spend some money on better food for our family. It was our daughter, the daughter of a migrant worker and a low-wage college employee that was most successful in class.

A couple years after you were born, your cousins in America came to see you. While they were here, your aunt and uncle told me all the wondrous stories of America. They told me of the wonderful food there, the great economy, and the culture. It was all so different from China, where everything was ‘opened’ up, but not as open as in America. In America, you could read the news without censorship. You could speak of your thoughts without fear of retribution. Another thing they talked about was the food. They especially talked about McDonald’s and how they were everywhere in America. With the car they owned, they went to McDonald’s every week. So when Wuxi opened their first McDonald’s, your dad and I felt that all the good fortune that had come to us in the past few years had accumulated for this moment, the moment when we would become more modernized. If we ate at McDonald’s, we would be like your relatives in America. Since they were going to college, you would also go to college. Walking into McDonald’s for the first time—you holding my hand, the red and yellow sign above us and the greeting servers all around us—I was immediately hit by the cleanliness. The toilets did not smell, the tabletops and the floor glistened in the summer heat. What could be better than this? The food tasted strange, but you seemed to like it. If this was how modernized people ate, then you should get to eat like this everyday. I guess this is why I pushed you so hard after I first took you to McDonald’s. I wanted to see you obtain a life where you could eat at McDonald’s whenever you wanted. I wanted you to have something that I never had—a modern life.

After your grades started dropping, our family began suffering. It was not your fault, it was our fault. Our marriage relied on you. Since you were born, you were the one thing that connected us. After being married for so long, I think we both knew that you were the only reason we were staying together. And when you stopped doing so well in school, we fell apart. We started getting into fights about you. We constantly argued about everything whenever you were not there. When you were there, we kept on pressuring you more and more to do well.

Our marriage was unconventional, and I guess so too our divorce. But by then, all I really had left was you.

3

I Left

Yiyi, this is my apology:

I come from a traditional family. I do not know much except for farming and construction work. It is hard for me to even write this. Because I have to spend so much time working to support my family, I always assumed that I would work until my family arranged a marriage for me and, after that, I would work at home. I thought that until I met your mom. She was hard-working, she could cook, and she was good-looking. Why shouldn’t I marry her? She always talked about love, but to me, a good marriage meant supporting the family and providing successful children.

Your mom and I were so close at the beginning of our marriage. We spent a lot of time together and you were so smart. You were all we had, so we always encouraged you to do your best because we knew you could. Although I had originally wanted a son, after I saw that you were so successful, you were everything that I wanted. Everything I wanted in a son was in you because you were the key to everything.

My apology starts from long before you can even imagine. I was born into a family where your grandfather truly thought that beating was the only way to control the family. I did not follow this tradition, but your grandparents kept on pushing me to discipline your mom. And when we started going to McDonald’s, everything came to a sudden crash. I had married your mom because it was beneficial for both of us. It was an appropriate marriage that aided both of us at the time. When you began struggling in school, worries that I had brushed off before in favor of keeping the marriage reemerged and all the pressure of being a migrant worker suddenly came down upon me.

To escape from my doubts, I worked harder at my job. Convinced that I was the cause of your drop in grades because I was so stressed with work, I avoided home so that I would not distract you from studying. After work, I began going out with friends so that I would not wander aimlessly. Whenever I was at home, all I did was argue with your mom. We were so distant when you were not there. Eventually, there was no point in trying to hold our marriage together because it was not benefitting either of us, so we split.
4

Taking Care

The teacher dismisses us fourteen minutes after our class officially ends, meaning that I will have to brave the night air and walk home by myself. As I leave the night school, my best friend Shuyi asks me if I wanted to go to her house and study, but my mom had said that I needed to clean the house today. I tell her I that I have chores to do. Ever since dad left, my mom has been reliant on me to help around the house. As I wave goodbye to Shuyi, I smile at her and remember how she has always been there, supporting me when I was down. All those other students, all they did was study. They only cared for themselves. They would never sacrifice time for that girl who fell, that girl who does not study. They do not know who I am. As I walk farther down the street, the smile leaves my face, the dimples from my smiling face only a fading scar from my childhood. My family sacrifices so much to see me succeed; I cannot deal with all the pressure. It is wearing me down and I am already broken. Each day I remember how much money my mom borrowed to send me to the best junior high school, a school the government would not pay for. Even though she has not pressured me to study since dad left, I still feel the pressure in her distant gaze. The pressure from her presence bears down on me more than any yelling that she could possibly use.

I pass a McDonald’s on the way home from night school. It is bright red and yellow sign, coupled with its clean interior, still calls to me with all of its “modernism.” But when I think about my mom and feel the weight of the books on my back, I force myself to turn away. I choose my family over myself. If only we could live in the cleanliness of McDonald’s. The rest of the walk back is boring, cluttered by Chinese fashion stores and the catcalling of dirty prostitutes hoping to snag their next customer. As I turn left into my street, the familiar bareness of my home cries to me as the stench of the trashcan fills my nostrils.

My house is unkempt from years of gradual decline. Since I am responsible for the chores, I have to balance my chores with school. Both suffer. If I could live in McDonald’s, I would not have to clean. My grades have never even caught a glimpse of the shadow they once were. My house is stained with years of neglect. And until my mom gets home from teaching, I will clean. I will clean like I do every day; I will clean so that maybe one day I will not need to clean.
5

To Love a Friend

I am Yiyi’s only remaining friend. I have seen her highest and lowest moments. I am the only daughter of a wealthy family. No matter whether I score really well or not for entering a vocational school, I will still be sent to a boarding school in America. I only need to score high enough in English to leave the country, and my parents have hired excellent tutors to train me since I first started speaking. With no drive to work, all I worry about is my friend, Yiyi. I guess I am a rich, low-achieving girl who has too much time on her hands to do anything else.

I tried to see if she wanted to study with me today, but she had to do chores again. . So, once again, I leave the night school alone and walk home by myself. As I turn from Yiyi, my ever-present smile drops and I run down the street, hoping to reach the safety of my room. I have always been able to see her mask, but she has always refused help. No matter how I try, she always tells me that she has to support her mother so she cannot study with me. If only she would allow me to lend her our maid, she would be able to study for school. But she is too stubborn for that, too unwilling to accept outside help. I hope she never finds out where her parents got the money to send her to school. Or finds out more about me.

Oh, I guess I should tell you, I have my own unique problems to deal with. I am a lesbian. In China, people would call me a lala. I sometimes feel so angry at the world for denying me my own identity. In China, being a lesbian means you have a mental problem and you will probably be sent to a mental institute. If I ‘come out,’ I will lose my sanity? I will not be natural? I do not want to be shunned by everyone. I do not want to be called a tongzhi. I guess that is why I have been trying so hard to support Yiyi. I have gotten into arguments with my parents about supporting her family behind her back. They have probably guessed by now or at least thought that maybe I am a lala. I wish I could speak to them about it, but they would not understand. At my home I always feel trapped. Safe, but I am trapped by the constraints of Chinese society.

I do not really know where my place in society is anymore. I know my family will shun me if I do not marry a guy and support the family when they grow up. I also know I cannot enter into a lala community when I am older, their culture of drinking and smoking is not who I am.

Who am I?

6

The Future

I knew I could not do it. I mean really? I should not have thought it was ever really possible really. There was no hope, only too much pressure, too much pressure from my mom. From my friends. From my cousin. Even from my cousin’s other cousins! I am not successful. I failed my entrance exam.

Dark clouds seem to follow me as I leave the test center on the last day of the exam and take the bus home. I could not really help it. Really. No really! There are a lot of things I could have done but none of it would have diminished the unbearable pressure that kept on pulling me down, deeper and deeper. Pressure from my American cousins because they were already in high school and college, pressure from my cousin’s other cousins because they have succeeded where I knew I would fail, and pressure from my family because they had invested so much into my success.

I need to stop thinking about this weight on my shoulders. Just get up, walk off the bus, and ignore the cloud of anguish and despair that follows me. Why couldn’t I just do what I loved to do? Why can’t I relax? Why can’t I just leave and travel to America and not be trapped by my mom? But I can’t. She needs me probably even more than she realizes. She needs me to be there for her because she is reliant on me. But, oh, how I wish to take a journey, escape from life and find something new! I wish to travel, to see the world for how it really is—not through learning the language that is forcibly stuffed down our throats in class, but by speaking the language to Americans.

Maybe I wanted it to be this way. Maybe I built this cloud of despair. Maybe everyday as I walked home, I added another little bit of darkness. Maybe I did not work as hard because I knew that if I succeeded I would still be trapped in the never ending spiral of drowning pressure and whirlwind pain and tears. But for now, I know I am free for a time. I can smile and sing like the waiters that I pass. I can greet and sell like those people working at the Baleno Store. Maybe I am being ignorant; I know it is hard for people if they go to technical school to get a job. A job, man I love my job. I wish I could do it every day for the rest of my life. Can I really help it? This is what I want to do! I want to work, to wake up every day and know I am getting somewhere in life, I do not want to just sit in a room hearing people talk to you about something I will never understand. I can’t do it! I need that environment of production, where I know I am getting something done on my own terms, on my own skills. I need something to escape from the pressure, even if it means cleaning for the rest of my life.

I guess this is my life. I am the only daughter of a normal family in modernized China. My life is full of pressure. I have a mom that relies on me to support her. I work at a clothing store on a crowded street fifteen minutes from the local McDonald’s and I go home to clean my house so my mom will not complain. Because of the one child policy, my parents invested everything in one child to support them when they grew older. I was treated like an empress as a child as my family tried to modernize me. And now, where am I?

great essay.

Modernization
Where did we go wrong in this world?
Why was I born as who I am,
Why was I born into this family?
You ask me how much I can give
But you forget about all the other things you demand
I want to run away into the field,*
I’m hoping that all my tracks will be concealed *
So I can get away,
emerge into a new life without all the pressures
you weigh on me.

I have made all the mistakes,
All I have done has created you
And me.
There’s not really anywhere to go
And all I need is time,
Something forgotten as we drive
Towards McDonald’s
And drown our sorrows in their fat.

*Red Hot Chili Peppers Lyrics
 
Introduction by a cousin
This isn’t about my experiences with Chinese culture; neither is it about me. These are stories about my cousin’s experiences and the pressure that she lives with everyday as a teenager growing up in China. To begin with, Yiyi (一依) my only cousin, daughter of my only aunt on my mom’s side. They live together in a small apartment in Wuxi, China, a two-hour train trip from Shanghai, China, half a world from my home and over 1500 km from our grandparents. Her father, a migrant worker, is the descendant of a line of farmers-turned-migrant-workers who helped my cousin’s mom when she first moved to Wuxi.
During the course of Yiyi’s life, her parents pressured her to study as hard as possible so she could succeed. The stories below describe the turmoil that she and people around her felt as they influenced her and she influenced them. While I am an outsider in this situation, having grown up in America, my experiences and correspondence with Yiyi have persuaded me to describe her experiences in a series of short vignettes that introduce the effect of modernization on her family. While some of these characters are fictional, they are based on real events or people that I have encountered in China. While they obviously aren’t an exact representation of the effects of modernization on China, this is an attempt to describe one situation where modernization drastically changed a group of people.


My Normal Family
1
I am the only daughter of a regular Chinese family in the late 21st century. My life is normal. I have a dad. I have a mom. I go to school, play with friends, and study just about as much as every other student in China, quite a lot. Because of the one-child policy, which pays for the majority of my education since I am the first child, my parents do not have to worry about money when it comes to raising me. . Also, since I am the only child, their future depends on my success Because of this I am always being told that hard work in class will lead to success and happiness. For them, success and happiness means getting high marks in the high school entrance exam. Getting into a high school will decide my life, they tell me. I truly believe this. In my eyes, my mom and dad are the happiest and happiest people alive. Even though they aren’t ‘successful’ in their own eyes, they are my parents and I want to be like them, happy. My mom showers me with love and tell all of her friends how successful I will be whenever I score in the top of the class. My mom works at Jiangnan Da Xue (Jiangnan Univeristy) as a Japanese Professor. Whenever a coworker of my mom, talks about me, she always goes on about how I am such a hard worker and how she doesn’t need to push me to do any work because I push myself to study. Whenever her colleagues talk about me, she’s always so happy that she pampers me with delicious food and refuses to let me do any chores.
My mom and dad push me a lot to study. Even more so than school or my classmates, my parents pressure me to do well in school. They always try to push me to study, giving me treats whenever I do well to encourage me to study more and punishing me when my grades drop. My parents are using McDonald’s now to push me to study. My parents first took me to McDonald’s after my relatives had told them that McDonalds is really cheap and exists everywhere in America. Since it is a symbol of America and thus a symbol of modernization in China my parents must have thought that bringing me to McDonald’s would encourage me to work harder and do even better in school because it would show me what is possible if you are successful. It did. Well, at least initially. After the first time I was introduced to the clean, welcoming atmosphere of McDonalds, I always wanted to go back. To me, McDonalds was a place where I could relax without being burdened by the pressures of school and my parents. Whenever I walked in, I could see people from all walks of life, families, teenagers hanging out, businessmen, and, most especially, waiguoren (foreigners). I enjoyed seeing the happiness on McDonald’s customers and I began to crave this happiness away from studying. Nowadays, I crave McDonald’s. I only want to eat the Beijing Cao Ya Wrap. I love lounging around while eating French fries and watching people shuffle in and out of McDonald’s.
I entered Junior High one year before being introduced to McDonald’s. In order to encourage me to do well in school, my parents told me that I could go to McDonald’s whenever I do well on a test. But all I can do is think about the happiness in the people at McDonald’s. Didn’t my parents want me to find happiness? Why can’t I just work at McDonald’s? I would be happy! The cleanliness, the success, and the happiness refuse to let me study. McDonald’s is making me more modern. Parental pressure, pressure from my mom’s colleagues, and pressure from my friends all bear down upon me as I slip from the top of the class. I My parents always tell me that life isn’t worth it if you can’t get into high school. With my grades, is my life not worth living? How can I improve? What is happening to me?




The Memoir of the Mother
2
Yiyi, this is my story:
When I met your dad, he was living in a small apartment next to mine. Whenever I needed help, he helped me out and got me familiar with the Wuxi traditions. It was a small town when I first moved there and he knew more than me about Wuxi, even though he was a migrant worker. I was young then, and he was the only one who was always there for me. I guess I was blinded by the idealism of my youth and all the western stories of true love and marriages of love rather than the traditional Chinese marriage. Even though he was a migrant worker and I was working at Jiangsu University, I loved him
We married rather untraditionally at the time, as your grandparents didn’t approve of the marriage. We didn’t take marriage pictures as many of his friends in the countryside had done when they took their marriage trip to the city. We didn’t hold a traditional marriage celebration or even a Western ceremony as most of my friends had done, we were just too poor. My job as a teacher did not pay that much, and his migrant worker job was unstable and his paycheck often arrived late.
When you were born, we shared the joy that was you in our life. I went to work all in the end goal of supporting you until you could support yourself. We were poor, but we were happy. As you grew older and emerged as the top of your class, we couldn’t help but express our happiness. It was like all we wanted to do was praise our ancestors and keep on encouraging you. You were everything to us. You were our only joy. Even with the difficulties in our life, everything was okay because you would get into a good high school. Once, when you were in fourth grade, I was enjoying some tea at work with some coworkers during break when one of my colleagues, Professor Wang who taught English, approached me and pleaded to me for advice in how his son could work as hard as you did. I was so surprised by this statement and I pondered for a moment.
My daughter? More successful than the English professor’s son? That can’t be, I thought, Professor Wang must be joking. When I laughed, however, Professor Wang just looked at me curiously and asked me if I thought he was jokingThat night when I came home, I was so happy that you were the best in class that I felt that I could splurge a little and spend some money on better food for our family. It was our daughter, the daughter of a migrant worker and a low-wage college employee that was most successful in class.
A couple years after you were born, your cousins in America came to see you. While they were here, your aunt and uncle told me all the wondrous stories of America. They told me of the wonderful food there, the great economy, and the culture. It was all so different from China, where everything was ‘opened’ up, but not as open as America. In America, you could read the news without censorship. You could speak out your thoughts without fear of retribution. Another thing they talked about was the food. They especially talked about McDonald’s and how they were everywhere in America. With the car they owned, they went to McDonald’s every week. . So when Wuxi opened their first McDonalds, your dad and I felt that all the good fortune that had come to us in the past few years had accumulated to this moment, the moment when we would become more modernized. If we ate at McDonald’s, we would be like your relatives in America. And just like they were going to college, you would to. Walking into McDonalds for the first time with you holding my hand, with the red and yellow sign above us and the greeting servers all around us, I was immediately hit by the cleanliness. The toilets didn’t smell, the tabletops and the floor glistened in the summer heat. What could be better than this? I mean, yeah the food tasted strange, but you seemed to like it. If this was how modernized people ate, then you should get to eat like this everyday. I guess you could say that this is why I pushed you so hard after I first took you to McDonalds. I wanted to see you obtain this life where you could eat at McDonald’s whenever you wanted. I wanted you to have something that I never hadAfter your grades started dropping, our family began suffering. This isn’t your fault, it was our fault. Our marriage relied on you. Since you were born, you were the one thing that connected us. After being married for so long, I think we both knew that you were the only reason we were staying together. And when you stopped doing so well in school, we fell apart. We started getting into fights about you. We constantly argued about everything whenever you weren’t there. When you were there, we kept on pressuring you more and more to do well.
Our marriage was unconventional, and I guess our divorce was also unconventional at the time. But by then, all I really had left was you.

I Left
3
Yiyi, this is my apology:
I come from a traditional family. I don’t know much except for farming and construction work. It is hard for me to even write this. Because I have to spend so much time working to support my family, I always assumed that I would work until my family got me an arranged marriage and then I would work at home. Well, that’s what I thought until I met your mom. She was hard-working, she could cook, and she was good-looking. Why shouldn’t I marry her? . She always told me about love, but to me, a good marriage meant supporting the family and providing successful children.
Your mom and I were so close at the beginning. We spent a lot of time together and you were so smart. You were all we had, so we always encouraged you to do your best because we knew you could. Although I had originally wanted a son, after I saw that you were so successful, you were everything that I wanted. Everything I wanted in a son was in you because you were the key to everything
My apology starts from long before you can even imagineI was born into a family where your grandfather truly thought that beating was the only way to control the family. I did not follow this tradition, but your grandparents kept on pushing me to discipline your mom. And when we started going to McDonalds, suddenly everything came to a crash. I married your mom because it was beneficial for both of us. It was an appropriate marriage that aided both of us at the time. When you began struggling in school, worries that I had brushed off before in favor of keeping the marriage reemerged and all the pressure of being a migrant worker suddenly came down upon me
To escape from my doubts, I worked harder at my job Convinced that I was the cause of your drop in grade because I was so stressed with work, I avoided home so that I wouldn’t distract you from studying. After work, I began going out with friends so that I wouldn’t wander aimlessly. Whenever I was at home, all I did was argue with your mom. We were so distant when you weren’t there. Eventually, there was no point in trying to hold our marriage together because it wasn’t benefitting either of us, so we split.

Taking Care
4
The teacher dismisses us 14 minutes after our class officially ends, meaning that I will have to brave the night air and walk home by myself. As I leavethe night school, my best friend Shuyi asks me if I wanted to go to her house and study, but my mom had told me that I needed to clean the house today, so I tell her I that I have chores to do. Ever since dad left, my mom has been reliant on me to help around the house. As I wave goodbye to Shuyi, I smile at her as I think about how she has always been there, supporting me when I was down. All those other students, all they did was study. They only cared for themselves. They would never sacrifice time for that girl who has fallen, that girl who doesn’t study. They don’t know who I am. As I walk further down the street, the smile leaves my face, the dimples from my smiling face only a fading scar from my childhood. My family sacrifices so much to see me succeed; I can’t deal with all the pressure. It’s wearing me down and I am already broken. Each day I remember how much my mom borrowed to send me to junior high school. Even though she hasn’t pressured me to study since dad left, I still feel the pressure in her distant gaze. The pressure from her presence bears down on me more than any yelling that she could possibly use.
I pass a McDonalds on the way home from night school. It’ss bright red and yellow sign, coupled with its clean interior, still calls to me with all of its “modernism.” But when I think about my mom and feel the weight of the books on my back, I force myself to turn away. I choose my family over myself. If only we could live in the cleanliness of McDonald’s. The rest of the walk back is boring, cluttered by Chinese fashion stores and the catcalling of dirty prostitutes hoping to snag their next customer. As I turn left into my street, the familiar bareness of my home cries to me as the stench of the trashcan fills my nostrils.
My house is unkempt from years of gradual decline. Since I have been responsible for the chores, I have to balance my chores with school. Both suffer. If I could live in McDonald’s, I wouldn’t have to clean. My grades have never even caught a glimpse of the shadow what they once were. My house is stained with years of neglect. And until my mom gets home from teaching, I’ll clean. I’ll clean like I do everyday, I’ll clean so that maybe one day my I won’t need to clean

To Love a Friend
5
I am Yiyi’s only remaining friend. I have seen her highest and lowest moments. I am the only daughter of a wealthy family. No matter whether I score really well or below the mark for even a vocational school, I will still be sent to a boarding school in America. I only need to score high enough in English to leave the country, and my parents have hired excellent tutors to train me since I started speaking. Without any drive to work, all I worry about is my friend, Yiyi. I guess I’m a rich low-achieving girl who has too much time on her hands to do anything else.
I tried to see if she wanted to study with me today, but she had to do chores again. . So, once again, I leave the night school alone and walk home by myself. As I turn from Yiyi, my ever-present smile drops and I run away down the street, hoping to reach the safety of my room, no, my cage, as soon as possibleI have always been able to see her mask, but she has always refused help. No matter how I try, she always tells me that she has to support her mother so she can’t study with me. If only she would allow me to lend her our maid, she would be able to study for school. But she’s too stubborn for that, to unwillingly to except outside help I hope she never finds out where her parents got the money to send her to school. Or finds out more about me.
Oh, I guess I should tell you, I have my own unique problems to deal with. I’m a lesbian. In China, people would call me a lala. Like my family and my friends if I ever told them. I sometimes feel so angry at the world for denying me my own identity. In China, being a lesbian means you have a mental problem and you will probably be sent to a mental institute. If I ‘come out,’ I’ll lose my sanity? I won’t be natural? I’ll be shunned by everyone. I don’t want to be called a tongzhi. I guess that’s why I’ve been trying so hard to support Yiyi. I have gotten into arguments with my parents about supporting her family behind her back. They’ve probably guessed by now or at least thought that maybe I’m a lala. I wish I could speak to them about it, but I really can’t, they wouldn’t understand. At my home I always feel trapped. Safe, but I am trapped by the constraints of Chinese society.
I don’t really know where my place in society is anymore. I know my family will at the very least shun me if I don’t marry a guy and support the family when they grow up. And I know I can’t enter into a lala community when I get older, I can’t stand their culture of drinking and smoking. It’s just not who I am.
Who am I?


The Future
6
I knew I couldn’t do it. I mean really? I shouldn’t have thought it was ever really possible really. There was no hope, only too much pressure, too much fucking pressure from my mom. From my friends. From my cousin. Even from my cousin’s other cousins! Rì 日! I am not successful. I failed my entrance exam.
Dark clouds seem to follow me as I leave the test center on the last day of the exam and take the bus home. I couldn’t really help it. Really. No really! There’s a lot of things I could’ve done but none if it would have diminished the unbearable pressure that kept on pulling me down, deeper and deeper. Pressure from my American cousins because they were already in high school and college, pressure from my cousin’s other cousins cause they had succeeded where I knew I would fail, and pressure from my family because they had invested so much into my success. .
Stop, I need to stop thinking about this weight on my shoulders. Just get up, walk off the bus, ignore the cloud of anguish and despair that’s following me. Why couldn’t I just do what I loved to do! Why can’t I relax! Why can’t I just go out and travel to America and not be trapped by my mom? But I can’t. She needs me probably even more than she realizes. She needs me to be there for her because she is reliant on me. But oh how I wish to take a journey, escape from life and find something new! How I wish to travel, to see the world for how it really is, not through learning the language that is forcibly stuffed down our throats In class, but by speaking the language to Americans.
Maybe I wanted it to be this way. Maybe I built this cloud of despair. Maybe everyday as I walked home like I do, I added another little bit of darkness. Maybe I didn’t work as hard because I knew that if I succeeded I’d still be trapped in the never-ending spiral of drowning pressure and whirlwind pain. And tears. But for now, I know I’m free. At least for a time. I’ll be able to smile and sing like the waiters that I pass. I’ll be able to greet and sell like those people working at the Baleno Store. Maybe I’m being ignorant, I know it’s hard for people if they go to technical school to get a job. A job, man I love my job. I wish I could do it everyday for the rest of my life. Can I really help it? This is what I want to do! I want to work, to wake up everyday and know I’m getting somewhere in life, I don’t want to just sit in a room hearing people talk to you about something I’ll never understand. I can’t do it! I need that environment of production, where I know I’m getting something done on my own terms, on my own skills. Anything to escape from the pressure, even if it means cleaning for the rest of my life.
I guess this is my life. I am the only daughter of a modern family in the early 22nd century. My life is full of pressure. I have a mom that relies on me to support her. I work at a clothing store on a crowded street 15 minutes from the local McDonald’s and everyday I go home to clean my house so my mom won’t complain. Because of the one-child policy, which forced my parents to invest their all in one child to support them when they grew older, I was treated like a child-empress as a child and now I am not successful.