Revolution Is Not a Dinner Party

Each day, my list of questions grew. But I had no one to ask. Father no longer told me, "Smart children always ask questions." Instead, now he said, "Children don't have to know everything."

The air around the city was heavy with the smell of ink and molding paste. Everything was covered with layers of Mao's pictures and teachings. Loudspeakers blasted out the same songs day and night, like a thousand crows following me around.