Learning the Missing Part of History
One of the responsibilities that parents have, I believe, is to help educate their children. Some take it more seriously than others. Sometimes parents must first educate themselves before they can teach their children. I find myself in that position.
My daughter Cici comes from a country that has a rich, cultural heritage. It stretches beyond the beginning of recorded history. The schools in China teach history, but not some parts of history. I want Cici to know those missing parts of history, but a Western view would mean little to her, I suspect. I have therefore been reading first-hand accounts of the cultural revolution in China that were written by Chinese women who lived through it as children and teenagers. As I read, I discuss the stories in the books with Cici.
I have finished reading Snow Falling in Spring, by Moying Li. I have just started reading Red Scarf Girl, by Ji-Li Jiang. Have you ever heard of Red Guards or Red Scarf Girls? I asked Cici. Never, she shook her head. She looked at pictures in one of the books with wide-eyed fascination. She listened to some of the stories in the book, but I didn't push the thoughts on her. She already has a healthy dislike for Chairman Mao, so I will let her absorb these stories a little at a time and reach her own conclusions.
America also has things in its history about which we cannot be proud, I assured Cici. One of the good things about America, though, is that we can talk about these things. People can write about them. Books can be published about them without fear of repercussions from the government. She listens to me when I talk about these things, in part I think because I also talk about the many good things that I see and feel about China.
What must it be like, I wonder, to stand astraddle of these two wildly different cultures. To be able to live in either world. To claim either country as home. She is not yet 16, but she has lived a life that most people will never know, expanding her horizons and staking out a heritage for her children and grandchildren to read and talk about in wonder.
My daughter Cici comes from a country that has a rich, cultural heritage. It stretches beyond the beginning of recorded history. The schools in China teach history, but not some parts of history. I want Cici to know those missing parts of history, but a Western view would mean little to her, I suspect. I have therefore been reading first-hand accounts of the cultural revolution in China that were written by Chinese women who lived through it as children and teenagers. As I read, I discuss the stories in the books with Cici.
I have finished reading Snow Falling in Spring, by Moying Li. I have just started reading Red Scarf Girl, by Ji-Li Jiang. Have you ever heard of Red Guards or Red Scarf Girls? I asked Cici. Never, she shook her head. She looked at pictures in one of the books with wide-eyed fascination. She listened to some of the stories in the book, but I didn't push the thoughts on her. She already has a healthy dislike for Chairman Mao, so I will let her absorb these stories a little at a time and reach her own conclusions.
America also has things in its history about which we cannot be proud, I assured Cici. One of the good things about America, though, is that we can talk about these things. People can write about them. Books can be published about them without fear of repercussions from the government. She listens to me when I talk about these things, in part I think because I also talk about the many good things that I see and feel about China.
What must it be like, I wonder, to stand astraddle of these two wildly different cultures. To be able to live in either world. To claim either country as home. She is not yet 16, but she has lived a life that most people will never know, expanding her horizons and staking out a heritage for her children and grandchildren to read and talk about in wonder.
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