Last summer if it hadn’t been for work, I would have volunteered at the 2008 Olympic Games. While watching the opening ceremony on TV, I was awe struck at the drummers, fireworks, and dancers, pure meticulous preparation for the glory of a country and a people. At the same time, I couldn’t help but think about the sacrifices made: “urban redevelopment,” wasted marketing, and self-aggrandizement (very atypical for Chinese traditions) among many other criticisms. On a more personal level, I was reminded of a dance once performed in the third grade.
To celebrate the 10th anniversary of an elementary school’s opening, my classmates and I were asked to perform a “walking dance.” Imagine a very large track and soccer fields and hundreds of girls forming seemingly impossible shapes en mass. We had no idea what we were doing, but was told we would look beautiful as one, when watched from the stands. My mom couldn’t even spot me during the entire performance, but I remember being told, again, by her how wonderful we/I looked.
With the People’s Republic of China’s 60th anniversary around the corner, my heart reach out to little girls, lost and oblivious, but putting a smile on her face because she has been told how wonderful she would look as part of something undefinable. Part of me wants to go back to China for a couple years, but I think I would feel more lost there than here.
