Yin Mei

New York

Other/Almost

I was born in China, and grew up during the Chinese Great Proletarian Cultural Revolution (1966-1976)
The experiences therein did more than shape my childhood; the Revolution still influences my life to this day. I have used my professions, choreographer and professor (I was hand-picked as a child to study the Revolutionary Model Play in China) to tell my stories. These experiences are mostly alien to those around me, but important to know, in order to understand the spectrum of humanity. Below I include some of my memories in the form of a script that was used as part of my multimedia dance performance in 1998. The witnessing of the Revolution through my experiences is not a passive act, and as such, I continue to create performances such as “Empty Tradition/City of Peonies” because it is through the arts that memory remains/becomes interactive.

EMPTY TRADITION/CITY OF PEONIES

Copyright 1998 Peter L. Critchell and Yin Mei

PROLOGUE

ACCORDING TO LEGEND,
THE EMPRESS TOOK A WALK ONE WINTER DAY
IN HER SNOW-COVERED GARDEN
AND HAPPENED UPON
A LONE PLUM BLOSSOM BLOOMING IN THE SNOW.
DECIDING THAT THIS WAS THE MOST
BEAUTIFUL SIGHT SHE HAD EVER SEEN,
THE EMPRESS DECREED
THAT ALL OF THE FLOWERS IN HER GARDEN
WERE TO BLOOM BY DAWN THE NEXT DAY.
THE NEXT MORNING,
EVERY FLOWER IN HER GARDEN HAD
OBEYED HER EDICT – SAVE ONE.
ALONE AMONG ALL THE FLOWERS,
THE PEONY REFUSED TO BLOOM.
TO PUNISH THIS REBELLIOUSNESS,
THE EMPRESS DECREED
THAT EVERY PEONY IN THE LAND
WOULD HENCEFORTH BE BANISHED
TO A CITY DEEP IN THE COUNTRY’S INTERIOR,
THE “CITY OF PEONIES.”
[PAUSE]
A THOUSAND YEARS LATER,
THERE WAS A TIME WHEN
PEONIES WERE FORBIDDEN TO BE GROWN
EVEN IN THE “CITY OF PEONIES.”
AND IN THAT TIME,
I DREAMED THAT I COULD FLY AWAY
CARRYING ALL THE PEONIES WITH ME,
CARRYING ALL THE PEONIES IN MY ARMS.

I

Bedtime Stories
WHEN I WAS A CHILD,
THERE WERE NO BEDTIME STORIES.
I WANDERED THE DARK IN SEARCH OF DREAMS;
IN THE DAY
I DID NOT KNOW WHAT NOT TO BELIEVE.

II
The Red Book
WHEN I WAS A CHILD,
I LOVED THE SMELL OF BOOKS.
WHEN I GOT MY HANDS ON A BOOK,
I WOULD CRACK THE SPINE,
PUT MY NOSE INTO THE BINDING
AND INHALE FOREVER.
WHEN I WAS NINE,
EVERY BOOK SUDDENLY TURNED RED.
A HUNDRED MILLION RED BOOKS
WITH EXACTLY THE SAME WORDS
ON EACH WHITE PAGE.
A HUNDRED MILLION HANDS HELD
THOSE RED BOOKS HIGH,
LIKE A HUNDRED MILLION PEONIES
ON FIRE.
THAT IS WHEN I FIRST WANTED TO DANCE:
I WANTED TO DANCE
ON THOSE BOOKS.

III
A Broken Voice
WHEN I WAS A CHILD,
I WAS TERRIFIED TO SPEAK
BECAUSE OF THIS BROKEN VOICE OF MINE.
“IT’S A BAD OMEN,’ THEY SAID.
DO YOU HEAR WHAT I MEAN?
I BELIEVED THEM.
I BELIEVED SO MUCH I WANTED TO DIE
BECAUSE OF THIS VOICE.

IV
My Brother
WHEN I WAS A CHILD,
MY BROTHER WAS MY SHADOW,
AND I HIS.
[PAUSE]
I WANTED MY BROTHER TO DIE.
I WANTED MY BROTHER TO DIE
A GLORIOUS, HEROIC DEATH –
A DEATH SO SPLENDID
IT COULD EXONERATE HIM
OF THE CRIME OF
BEING BORN WHITE AS THE WHITEST FLOWER,
AND REPLACE THE SHAME WE SHARED
WITH THE PLEASURE OF REVENGE.
WHEREVER WE WENT,
THEY STARED, AND POINTED, AND LAUGHED,
“THERE GOES THE WHITE BOY,” THEY SAID.
“HE’S LOST HIS WAY IN THE SNOW,” THEY SAID.
“HEAVEN HAS EYES,” THEY SAID.
“IT’S A PUNISHMENT ON HIS FAMILY,” THEY SAID.
IN THE “CITY OF PEONIES,”
IT WAS ONLY IN THE DARK
THAT WE COULD PASS UNNOTICED.
I WAS NOT AFRAID OF THE DARK;
THE DARK WAS MY LOVER.
I WAS AFRAID OF THE DAY.

V
The Wall
WHEN I WAS A CHILD,
WE LIVED OUR LIVES ENTIRELY INSIDE
THE FOUR WALLS OF OUR INSTITUTE’S COMPOUND.
THERE WERE GUARDS AT THE GATE
TO STOP PEOPLE COMING IN
AND TO MAKE A LIST OF WHO WENT OUT.
EVERYONE I KNEW LIVED INSIDE WALLS.
IF YOU LIVED OUTSIDE WALLS,
YOUR EXISTENCE COULD NOT BE IMAGINED.
YET BECAUSE OF MY BROTHER,
A PART OF ME LIVED OUTSIDE THE WALLS,
KIN WITH EVERYTHING
THAT THE PEOPLE INSIDE THE WALLS
WANTED TO KEEP OUT.
[PAUSE]
I CARRY A WALL INSIDE ME, NOW,
AND I STOP PEOPLE COMING IN,
AND I KEEP A LIST OF WHO GOES OUT.
[PAUSE]
IT IS GETTING HARDER
TO TELL THE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN
THE EMPTINESS THAT IS WITHIN
AND THE EMPTINESS WITHOUT.

VI
Soldier
WHEN I WAS A CHILD,
I DREAMED I WOULD LOVE A SOLDIER.
I WOULD LOVE A SOLDIER
BECAUSE SOLDIERS ARE NEVER WRONG,
BECAUSE SOLDIERS NEVER LEAVE,
BECAUSE SOLDIERS HAVE NO GRIEF.
I WOULD LOVE A SOLDIER
BECAUSE SOLDIERS ARE OUR ONLY HEROES.

VII
Hero Of The Revolution
WHEN I WAS A CHILD,
THEY CLOSED OUR SCHOOL AND
SENT OUR TEACHERS AWAY.
OUR NEW SCHOOL WAS A FACTORY,
OUR NEW TEACHERS WERE FACTORY WORKERS.
WE DID NOT HAVE TO READ BOOKS
AS OUR FINAL EXAM,
WE HAD TO START A GENERATOR.
ANYONE WHO STARTED THE GENERATOR
GOT AN “A.”
I GOT AN “A,”
NOT BECAUSE I STARTED THE GENERATOR,
BUT BECAUSE I YANKED THE
STARTER ROPE SO HARD
I LOST MY BALANCE
AND SLAMMED, LIP-FIRST,
ONTO THE ENGINE HOUSING.
I GOT AN “A” FOR EFFORT.
MY LIPS WERE SWOLLEN FOR DAYS,
AND I DROOLED WHEN I SPOKE.
BUT NOT ONE CHILD LAUGHED.
I WAS A HERO OF THE REVOLUTION.

VIII
The Surgeon
WHEN I WAS A CHILD,
I BECAME AN EXPERT AT KILLING
THE CHICKENS AND FROGS AND OTHER ANIMALS WE ATE.
SO TALENTED WAS I THAT MY PARENTS SAID
I WOULD GROW UP TO BE A SURGEON.
ONE DAY, A NEIGHBOR BOY,
A RED GUARD,
WAS ACCOSTED BY A RIVAL GROUP,
WHO TOOK HIM DOWN INTO A BASEMENT,
TIED HIM UP ON AN IRON BED,
AND BEAT HIM TO DEATH WITH STICKS.
BY THE TIME THEY FINISHED,
HIS KNEECAPS HAD DISAPPEARED.
IN THE DREAMS THAT COME BEFORE I SLEEP,
I SEE HIM,
COVERED WITH BLOOD –
MUTILATED IN HIS PRIVATES.
I NEVER DID BECOME A SURGEON.

IX
The Kite
WHEN I WAS A CHILD,
I DREAMED THAT I COULD FLY.
ONE DAY,
I TOOK MY KITE TO THE ROOF OF OUR BUILDING
AND RAN ALONG THE EDGES,
CIRCLING AND CIRCLING
TO CATCH THE WIND THAT RISES ABOVE THE WALLS.
BEFORE I KNEW IT,
I HAD TAKEN A STEP TOO FAR
AND FLOWN MYSELF RIGHT OFF
INTO THE EMPTY AIR,
FIVE STORIES TO THE GROUND.
I BROKE A LEG, BUT I SURVIVED.
I WAS FAMOUS AFTER THAT.
THEY CALLED ME “THE PILOT.”

Uncertainty and insecurity go hand in hand with revolution. Never knowing what tomorrow may bring, and whether your choice will be the right one- these are often life and death decisions with reasons or answers often too big or too complex to comprehend, at least at the time. Revolution is not one man’s intention- it is a creature with its own momentum, its own forces well beyond one’s control. Take care of yourself and your family each day, follow the dictates of basic fundamental human kindness, beyond religion, and beyond politics and cultural divides. Especially, take care of your children. A child needs to grow up in a world with answers, not a world where no one knows what tomorrow will bring.