Boys and Girls of China

One evening sitting by the piano, my seven-year-old son said “I am a boy of China.”  Then he started play a song in his piano book, called “Boy of China” and sang along.  It goes like this:  “Little boy of China/Oh so far away/You play games like other boys/But what do you say.”  The melody is simple and kind of sober.

I was struck by him saying that he was a boy of China.  I have heard him saying “I am American, not French,” when we lived in Paris. Yes, I am from China.  He is half Chinese by blood, but he is not really from China since he was born here in Salem, Massachusetts.  However, I felt the warmth from his claim because I know he is connected with his mother and connected with his Chinese grandparents, so he is connected to China.

I have two boys, smart and handsome, but no girls. I use to worry that something was missing from my life.

Now I teach Chinese to girls from China adopted by American families.  They are sweet and smart, confident and competitive.  Today I had a class with little girls ages 5 to 7.  Their cute, smiling faces stole my heart.  When they looked at me with their beautiful eyes and repeated after me in Chinese with their tender voices, I felt so happy.  In addition to these little girls in my Tuesday class, I have older girls from China in my Saturday class.  I just adore them and love teaching them.  I know I am very lucky to be able to teach these girls and help them connect to China.

With these girls of China, I have a fuller life.

“Beijing Meets Salem”

Among the Peabody Essex Museum’s current exhibitions is Mahjong: Contemporary Chinese Art from the Sigg Collection, which features many artworks from Beijing. It covers the periods from Mao’s Cultural Revolution to the latest Consumer Revolution. I have seen the show and attended two panel discussions on Chinese Contemporary Art. I feel personally connected to these events since I am originally from Beijing and now live in Salem. I grew up in Beijing during the Cultural Revolution from 1966 to 1976. The exhibition reminds me somewhat of those fearful moments but makes me laugh at the same time. I enjoyed the painting "Chanel No 5”, which reminds me of my years as a Little Red Guard holding the Little Red Book. It also makes me think of the Chanel poster with Nicole Kidman that I saw at the bus stops in Paris when I was living there during 2007 and 2008. They look quite different, but I guess the fragrance is the same.