A Heart for Freedom Read Online Free
Author: Chai Ling
Tags: Religión, History, Biography, Non-Fiction, Politics
eight people—would arrive. It was the greatest honor a son could possibly bring to his family.”
Grandma went on and on, as if she had just returned from a voyage to another century—the century before 1911, when the last emperor in a series of dynasties was abolished. In Grandma’s generation, those stories had been kept alive through folk music and plays, but my parents’ generation and mine—those who grew up in the “new society”—never saw such a thing.
“That’s why we named your father ‘Going to Beijing,’” Grandma said. “It’s too bad that when your father was growing up, China was in a different time. They didn’t have those exams anymore, or that kind of fun. But now my granddaughter is going to Beijing!” She clapped her aged, weatherworn hands. “At last, somehow, that Chai family wish has come true. How wonderful is that?”
Usually when Grandma got going on all the good things she missed about the “old society,” as the Communists called it, my dad would tell her to stop talking. He worried someone would overhear what she said and report that our family didn’t like the “new society”—a crime that could lead to death or a life sentence in a forced labor camp. This time, though, I guess she touched a soft spot in Dad’s heart. Instead of stopping her, he joined in with his own rhapsody.
“Today’s exam is no less competitive than in the old days,” he said. “It may even be harder. Only fifty spots for this university are permitted for our province, with millions of bright kids competing.”
Dad and Grandma were grinning, and my mother beamed with joy as well. She could clearly recall the day she passed the exams and entered medical school. She remembered what joy she’d brought to her mother and what pride she’d given her family. I couldn’t tell whether Grandma heard what my father had said, but this much was clear: The whole family was overjoyed that a family dream had finally come true after three generations. As it sank in, the realization that I was going to Beijing had a different meaning for everyone, but the whole family agreed that a bright future awaited me, and they acknowledged the luster and glory I had brought to the family. I loved the idea that I had done something to give my mother and grandmother such joy. What made me even happier was the thought that, by leaving, I would get out from beneath my father’s thumb.
I love my father, but I was intimidated by him when I was growing up. Our relationship became better when I started doing well in school, but less than a year before my acceptance at Beida, he and I got into a major conflict when I told him I didn’t plan to join the Communist Youth League. I felt so hurt by his reaction that I did not speak to him for some time. I decided to skip a class in order to test for university. Surprisingly, he later went to talk to the school principal, who agreed to establish an accelerated program for a few students, and some of us went on to college.
My dad saw college as the next step on a set pathway to success within Chinese society. I saw it as the gateway to freedom and happiness. Though focused on different destinies, we agreed on one thing: Beida was the culmination of the fairy-tale dreams of three generations of Chais.
2
Child of the Tiger Dad
My father was born in 1935, the third child among seven siblings. My grandfather, whom I knew only through a faded photograph, was a hardworking and remarkably capable man. He farmed a few acres and occasionally hired some help during harvesttime. During the less busy times, he took fresh peanuts and home-raised pigs and chickens to the farmers’ market in the nearby city of Qingdao. Grandpa also knew how to turn animal skins into leather using a unique softening process that today he might be able to patent or use to open a factory. But this was 1930s China, and he was busy supporting his large family.
In 1937, Japan invaded China, and their
Grandma went on and on, as if she had just returned from a voyage to another century—the century before 1911, when the last emperor in a series of dynasties was abolished. In Grandma’s generation, those stories had been kept alive through folk music and plays, but my parents’ generation and mine—those who grew up in the “new society”—never saw such a thing.
“That’s why we named your father ‘Going to Beijing,’” Grandma said. “It’s too bad that when your father was growing up, China was in a different time. They didn’t have those exams anymore, or that kind of fun. But now my granddaughter is going to Beijing!” She clapped her aged, weatherworn hands. “At last, somehow, that Chai family wish has come true. How wonderful is that?”
Usually when Grandma got going on all the good things she missed about the “old society,” as the Communists called it, my dad would tell her to stop talking. He worried someone would overhear what she said and report that our family didn’t like the “new society”—a crime that could lead to death or a life sentence in a forced labor camp. This time, though, I guess she touched a soft spot in Dad’s heart. Instead of stopping her, he joined in with his own rhapsody.
“Today’s exam is no less competitive than in the old days,” he said. “It may even be harder. Only fifty spots for this university are permitted for our province, with millions of bright kids competing.”
Dad and Grandma were grinning, and my mother beamed with joy as well. She could clearly recall the day she passed the exams and entered medical school. She remembered what joy she’d brought to her mother and what pride she’d given her family. I couldn’t tell whether Grandma heard what my father had said, but this much was clear: The whole family was overjoyed that a family dream had finally come true after three generations. As it sank in, the realization that I was going to Beijing had a different meaning for everyone, but the whole family agreed that a bright future awaited me, and they acknowledged the luster and glory I had brought to the family. I loved the idea that I had done something to give my mother and grandmother such joy. What made me even happier was the thought that, by leaving, I would get out from beneath my father’s thumb.
I love my father, but I was intimidated by him when I was growing up. Our relationship became better when I started doing well in school, but less than a year before my acceptance at Beida, he and I got into a major conflict when I told him I didn’t plan to join the Communist Youth League. I felt so hurt by his reaction that I did not speak to him for some time. I decided to skip a class in order to test for university. Surprisingly, he later went to talk to the school principal, who agreed to establish an accelerated program for a few students, and some of us went on to college.
My dad saw college as the next step on a set pathway to success within Chinese society. I saw it as the gateway to freedom and happiness. Though focused on different destinies, we agreed on one thing: Beida was the culmination of the fairy-tale dreams of three generations of Chais.
2
Child of the Tiger Dad
My father was born in 1935, the third child among seven siblings. My grandfather, whom I knew only through a faded photograph, was a hardworking and remarkably capable man. He farmed a few acres and occasionally hired some help during harvesttime. During the less busy times, he took fresh peanuts and home-raised pigs and chickens to the farmers’ market in the nearby city of Qingdao. Grandpa also knew how to turn animal skins into leather using a unique softening process that today he might be able to patent or use to open a factory. But this was 1930s China, and he was busy supporting his large family.
In 1937, Japan invaded China, and their
Readers choose
Gillian Larkin
Keith Graves
C. J. Carmichael
Amity Hope
Adam Palmer
Dean Koontz
Patricia Rice
Daniel Buckman
John L. Monk