Frightened, 2015.5.12 | 《害怕》
“Little shit, useless! Little shit, useless!”
My father would shout this when he beat me with a dustpan – my earliest memory. He hated me being born as a dwarf, particularly a female one. He didn’t stop beating me until one day he almost beat my mother to death.
Patriarchy, 2015.5.20 | 《父权社会》
Influenced by such violence in a patriarchal family, where all parents favored a boy over a girl, my brother also liked bullying me. He learned to beat me till one day he was scared when he cut my forearm deep with a scar.
Scar, 2015.7.9 | 《伤痕》
The Scar, 2019.10.19 | 《那道疤痕》
Years of my mother staying unwell in bed gave me more chance to do farm work, housework and take care of two young sisters. And that somehow made me useful in my father’s eye.
Family, 2015.5.13 | 《家庭》
When mother got better, I started school at ten. Things were fine till Grade Five when my Chinese teacher doubted my writing, “Have you copied this from an Essay Book?” I said no. He then left a striking red mark: Whether or not you have cribbed your article off a book, you know the best!
Vulnerability, 2015.5.12 | 《脆弱》
My private Shenzhen library built from a dormitory window that liked receiving wind and rain uninvited, 2013.9 | 《我的深圳私人藏书屋》
The irony was that I didn’t even have a book. To prove myself, I insisted on joining a writing competition, which no one believed I should. In the end I won First Prize in the whole district. I thought that would make people look at me differently, but it didn’t. Their silence was confusing.
Confusion, 2015.4.17 | 《困惑》
Nonetheless, I kept studying hard and being a good student. This didn’t change until a kidney stone that almost needed surgery in high school made me start wondering: What was the point of being good? What had good writing done for me? Why should I meet an expectation that was not mine? Why not just listen to myself?
Be Wild, 2015.3.18 | 《自然野》
Therefore I half listened to my father about becoming a teacher. But behind his back I chose Hainan Island for my college life. This was strongly against his wishes because it was too far away. For days, he didn’t sleep or eat much. At last, he gave me a thick roll of thirty-eight hundred cash and told me with red wet eyes, “This is all I have. Don’t come home until you can afford it.”
Father, 2015.4.25 | 《父亲》
I assured him, “Don’t worry. The school offers a five-thousand loan every year.”
But I could never tell him that the loan was a lie. How could I?
My grandfather’s Medal Awarded From the Korea War, 1954 | 《爷爷的抗美援朝纪念章》
Owing half my tuition fees, I had to constantly take different part-time jobs. Yet my salary was never enough to pay off my debt. When the time came to register for the second year, the administrator refused me unless I paid off everything. Accordingly I showed him these two things: “Look, this is my grandfather’s medal awarded from the Korea War and his Military Certificate authorized by the renowned General Chen Yi. It clearly says, His family get preferential treatment.”
My grandfather’s Military Certificate, 1951 | 《爷爷的革命军人证明书：司令员 陈毅》
“Is he still alive?” He sneered.
“No… please!” I suddenly knelt down. “My grandfather had fought many wars and sacrificed a lot. He had become crippled and deaf, and almost been killed on the battlefield. His greatest wish was to see me graduate from college.”
“Your grandpa is dead. What’s the use of all this?”
Sob, 2015.7.7 | 《哭诉》
I got up slowly, pulling myself together. I began to make phone calls and borrow money. This made me sick. When I asked for a raise after three years of working for my first company, the boss killed me as a chicken to scare the monkey. And later in the second company, I found my basic salary had been underpaid for six months. What the hell made people do that to me?
Mankind, 2015.5.6 | 《人》
Unhesitatingly I quit my full-time job to chase my writing dream. Had I not been framed by a world where the colors are drawn by child abuse, sexist bullies, social suspicions and human unkindness, would I struggle even now to tell the bumps of my life stories?
A Framed Life, 2015.7.11 | 《一个被设限的生命》
I’m not going to ask ‘Why me?’. Because it is not just me. It is a bunch of mes. But what bumps do you have and what impacts do they have on you?
Hope, 2015.7.5 | 《希望》
—Shanghai Leadership Toastmasters Club Still Drives Me Crazy, 2019.10.19 | 《上海头马依旧让我痴狂》
Related article：Transformations
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热文
Heather Cai is the daughter of a subsistence rice farmer from Fujian Province, China. She tells stories from her experience as one of the poorest. She writes her dream to share with the world, a very personal place. She has now written two English literary novels and is looking to being published in the UK. Her passion is a splendid cocktail or milkshake of word, image, music and art. She likes collecting books, DVDs, papers, stones, shells and leaves. She desires for all forms of natural beauty. She is currently working for Shanghai Taichi Center.
希瑟·蔡太莲是福建一个自给自足稻农的女儿。她作为穷人的穷人之一，讲述的故事来自最底层的仰望。她写就她的梦想与世界分享一些个人独特的亲身经历。她完成了两本英文文学小说，喜欢收集树叶、书本、影碟、贝壳和剪报，向往各种自然美。目前在上海从事太极文化行业，也在努力打造“阿太的密室”，集文学、艺术、文化、哲学和世界女性于一体的个人公共服务平台。
Copyright © 2019-2020 Heather Cai. All Rights Reserved. 所有版权归作者蔡太莲所有
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