"A Day In the Life" Journal

“A Day In the Life” Journal

By Rachel Quinlivan

    I awoke to the sounds of banging in the house next to my host family’s. Another house search, another day, another person taken away for re-education. After two weeks, I am no longer fazed by it. It is part of everyday life. Everyone is being accused of being counter-revolutionary, of being a capitalist. I had to lie and say I supported Communists and the Cultural Revolution. If they found out who I really was, I could be arrested and beaten, even killed. I walked into the kitchen of my host family’s house. It was very plain, nothing fancy. Practical. My host mother, Chen-Lifen, was chopping vegetables for dinner tonight. Her clothes were plain as well. In fact, the whole family’s clothes were simple. It was considered “four olds” to wear makeup and fancy clothes. It was considered four olds to have a fancy house too.

  
       My host family was very supportive of the Cultural Revolution. Chen-Lifen was the neighborhood's party director. She knew every one's social status, and of course hers was the best. The whole family was at home sitting on simple wooden chairs. The youngest child was playing with handmade toys and the older one was writing da zi bao about their teachers and counter revolutionary people in the neighborhood. Two other children were in the countryside, working on the farms. The oldest son was a Red Guard and he was very proud of what he did. All day he walked around, looking for four olds. All of the schools were closed so the kids were home every day. Gang-Jiang, my host father was also out of work because the factory that he worked in closed. I heard that many factories had closed because they did not have enough workers.

        The neighborhood bell rang outside. It was time to go outside and sing about Chairman Mao Zedong. The way everyone worshipped Mao you would think he was God. Everyone had their own red book filled with quotes from Chairman Mao. It was crazy! Everyone crowded in the small alleyway. I noticed that there was a new painting on the wall at the end of the alley. It showed a man who was smiling, holding one of the Little Red Books. There were people behind him, smiling and holding red books as well. All around China were these posters, signs, paintings, supporting Mao and the Cultural Revolution. Every song and poem was written about Mao. Everything was Mao, Mao, Mao. I wonder if they dream about Mao Zedong too. I’m going home in three days and honestly, I can’t wait. I think I am being brainwashed. I can’t wait to go back home to America where everything is normal.