During the mid-1900s, China was a very chaotic country; Mao Zedong’s intricate plans for the future had ended in catastrophe. He killed millions with his Great Leap Forward plan. However, despite his massacres, Chairman Mao was still revered by citizens through implementing strict pedagogies and propaganda.
Inspired by many of my mother’s stories from her childhood in that time, The Other World tells the story of a teenaged girl, Yan Jiayi, a full-hearted supporter of Chairman Mao. I first became interested in this story when my mom explained to me how she was taught to respect and love Chairman Mao. When people are taught to believe in false ideals and idols, “right” and “wrong” decisions regarding those concepts are no longer “black and white” choices anymore. Set in the time period of the 1970s, The Other World explores the concept of “right” beliefs.
Although Jiayi was fictionalized, many aspects of her personality are based on people I know. Her unwavering attitude is very much like my sister’s, her acuity is similar to my friend’s, and her incessant curiosity comes from me. These parts to our personalities all were formative to Jiayi’s very complex personality.
Research was very important to my poetry writing process as it enabled me to keep historical events authentic and accurate. I came across many sources, but my most helpful ones definitely include the Classroom Video on Demand website. This source gave me really good primary videos that showed me what life was like in that time period. In addition, the BBC article on Mao Zedong was extremely helpful as it covered many important aspects of Mao’s life, which contributed to the foundation knowledge I needed.
Other sources for further reading:
" Classroom Video On Demand - China's Cultural Revolution Part II, 1967 ". Cvod.infobase.com. N. p., 2017. Web. 16 Mar. 2017.
“BBC - History - Mao Zedong". Bbc.co.uk. N. p., 2017. Web. 16 Mar. 2017.
Arts Correspondent, Arifa Akbar. "Mao's Great Leap Forward 'Killed 45 Million In Four Years'". The Independent. N. p., 2010. Web. 16 Mar. 2017.
"Mao Tse-Tung". Biography. N. p., 2017. Web. 16 Mar. 2017.
"Mao Tse-Tung Killer File @ Moreorless.Net.Au". Moreorless.net.au. N. p., 1976. Web. 16 Mar. 2017.
Source, Primary. "Background Essay - Women's Roles In China: Changes Over Time - Resources At Primary Source, Inc.". Resources.primarysource.org. N. p., 2017. Web. 16 Mar. 2017.
"Old Chengdu, Western China, In 1940 成都". YouTube. N. p., 2017. Web. 16 Mar. 2017.
Historical Fiction In Verse Poem Collection:
September
Death of a Great Leader
Chairman Mao, the
great,
powerful,
Inspiring leader
died today.
I cry my eyes out.
My tears gushing
as fast and rapidly
as the Hukou Waterfall
near my house,
as if the waves can bring back my
beloved leader.
But they don’t.
……
My eyes are almost as red
as the rare dyed red rope I receive
on celebrations.
……
I keep crying.
====================
Weak Choices
Slowly ––
precariously ––
I fish out the secret
stash of books I cram underneath
my bed
in my small, littered bedroom.
I gaze at the covers –
neatly wrapped
in scrap paper
to prevent any wrinkles
or dust
on my cherished
possessions.
I’m probably the
worst
follower of Chairman Mao.
I shouldn’t do this.
Shouldn’t consume
knowledge,
greedily,
inconsiderately,
self-centeredly.
But I still do.
And now that he’s gone,
I’m still insulting his beliefs
by owning books
of literature,
and learning,
and endless worlds.
I shouldn’t have
succumbed to my selfish
wants. The great leader
is gone now.
I’m the weakest
child
in the weakest
gender
making the weakest
choices.
====================
Colors From Five
When I was five,
the world was just splashes of color.
Olive green leaves,
vermillion petals.
Even the dirt
was a pretty shade of
umber and brown.
The colors were of laughter
and joy.
I didn’t really understand anything.
Guess I just liked the
freedom to explore
the different shades of color.
But later, other colors
started to appear.
Muddled,
undefined mixtures scattered around:
weeping puddles,
furious thunder.
All menacing threats
to my beloved colors.
Gradually,
my colors faded.
Today, at
fourteen years old,
I do not like colors.
====================
Dunce Caps
School has always
been an ambiguous topic for me.
Chairman Mao
opposed education.
I,
a follower,
naturally opposed it, too.
I jeered at educators
who walked around in
shameful dunce caps. Somehow with dignity.
When I look at them,
ambling down the streets
with those ridiculous hats –
pointy as a needle –
I half-wonder, half-scoff
about how they manage
to walk proudly.
And then I shiver
and cower behind my mother,
just at the mere thought
of my being singled out
with those stigmas.
That is why I follow.
====================
October
Chaos
A month after his death,
chaos is still rampant.
I worry for the future.
What it holds.
What it’ll bring.
I’m scared.
So scared I’d rather
endure the gelid winds that freezes my cheeks red
in the wary winter weather than
think about this.
So scared that I’d rather
scurry to the outdoor bathroom behind our complex
in the middle of the night.
At least that darkness
will inevitably
disappear
with a new dawn.
I don’t know if the darkness
of the future will
ever
disappear.
====================
Disappearing Beliefs
The Sirenbang are arrested.
The former Chairman’s
most trusted cadre
are torn apart.
Why are people abolishing
Chairman Mao’s
previous behests and beliefs?
====================
Guilt
I hold my
precious copies
of textbooks
in my hands,
once again.
They talk of ancient wonders –
some of which were destroyed.
Artifacts that were thrown away,
eradicated to hide secrets.
But it’s okay, because the great
Chairman says so.
I run my fingers across the covers,
smooth and cool.
Should I really be doing this?
I stare at the covers again,
a wanting feeling of knowledge stirring inside.
It feels forbidden.
I shouldn’t be doing this.
I think back to my sea of tears
from a month ago.
How I cried.
How I mourned.
How unfair.
My fingers slip under the cover.
I recall the stories from the books,
the same sentences repeated,
yet different and interesting
each time they
are read.
I turn the page.
I give in to guilt.
I read.
I’m worthless at making choices.
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