A brave little Red Guard

To a child of six, it was a very exciting time. I remember there were papers everywhere, beautifully colored papers of red, green and yellow... It was only later that I realized what they stood for.

I lived with my parents in a small apartment in a Beijing campus, we only had two bedrooms, a toilet and a kitchen. My parents' bedroom doubled as a living room at that time. I have quite vivid memories that in the spring of 1966, when I was six years old, we suddenly had a lot of visitors.

My parents' friends would come to the house, and the adults would go into my parents' room and shut the door. I couldn't hear the words, but I could hear in their tones that they were discussing something important. Sometimes, the voices sounded excited or worried or raised in argument. Sometimes, the only sound that came through the door were deep sighs.

Even my elder sister who was in primary school was talking about different ideas, repeating things she learned in school. Things I couldn't quite understand.

I didn't really know what was happening, but I was old enough to sense that something big, something important, was about to take place.

And then one night, it happened.

To the beat of big drums

The announcement was preceded by the beating of big drums, like the ones that mark festivals, a joyous sound that called people to gather and celebrate. There were people delivering Chairman Mao's highest instructions.

It was May 28, 1966, the Wúchǎn Jiējí Wénhuà Dà Gémìng (无产阶级文化大革命; Great Proletarian Cultural Revolution) had begun.

Mao Zedong was Chairman of the Communist Party of China during the Cultural Revolution. (Image: Wikipedia)It was only when I was older that I would know what it meant. The Central Committee of the Chinese Communist Party had announced that a temporary body, the Culture Revolution Leadership Group, was responsible for carrying out the Great Cultural Revolution. In the leadership's view, communist power has been undermined by capitalist and bourgeois representatives within the Party. The Cultural Revolution was going to give the power back to the working people and their true representatives.

China has a long tradition of dividing people into social classes. People were categorized into four classes of shì, nóng, gōng, shāng in the old time. Shì referred to the scholars and students of Confucius; nóng referred to farmers; gōng meant handcraft workers; and shāng meant businesspeople. Businesspeople were considered the lowest class because business was thought not to generate added value and to be ultimately, a way of cheating people.

The Cultural Revolution sought to give the ruling power back to the gong nong ping, the representatives of the working class. Power was to reside within factory workers, peasants and soldiers because they were the majority. All other people --- artists, teachers, doctors --- were considered "little" bourgeois.

Both my parents were teachers, but I wouldn't know how this would affect us until later. All I could see were the Great Character Posters suddenly appearing everywhere. All I could hear was the sound of the big drums and the loudspeakers in the campus calling everyone to gather.

It was rather like those times when we would watch movies or listen to performances... we would bring our small benches and sit on the yard, except that we were listening to the latest pronouncements from Chairman Mao.

Even normal life was put on hold. People stopped going to work and schools were closed. To my six-year old mind, it seemed like one big party.

Spurned and scarred

In China, a child goes to primary school when he turns 7. But because the school year starts in July and I didn't turn 7 until October, I had to stay another year in kindergarten. I didn't mind going to kindergarten. The teachers were nice and the playground, with its swings and slides, was a place I really enjoyed.

One day, Auntie Zhang, one of the kindergarten teachers came to our house. She was not really a relative. It's just that in China, we call people who are older than us "Uncle" or "Auntie." Auntie Zhang and my parents went to the bedroom to talk. A few minutes later, they came out.

"Little Fat," Auntie Zhang called me by my nickname while she was tapping my head slightly, "you will not come to the kindergarten anymore. We will miss you." I still remember the sad look on her face when she left. The teachings of Mao Zedong were printed and distributed to the people.

My parents were obviously upset, but I didn't understand why. I thought it was cool that I didn't have to go to kindergarten. I didn't like having to keep quiet and sitting up straight with my hands behind my back. I was free of that!

On the other hand, I knew I couldn't play on the kindergarten grounds anymore, no more swings and slides. That made me sad.

Later I found out that I had to stop going to kindergarten because the "revolutionary group" of the teachers had decided not to serve the bourgeois families. The situation would only change months later after a lot of compromise and mediation had taken place.

For my part though, it didn't matter since I was about to begin primary school anyway. My sister, who was 3 years older, was given the grand task of taking care of me. Oh, she must have hated me then. She couldn't do what she wanted. She couldn't have fun. I became her tail, following her and her friends everywhere.

On the other hand, it did bring us closer. I have a very close relationship with my sister and I think it was born of those days we spent together.

One particular incident I remember was when we were playing hide-and-seek. I was running and fell down. Blood was oozing from a wound I got on my chin. My sister used a piece of dirty newspaper to stick it on the wound, we didn't have tissue paper then, to stop the bleeding.

When my parents came home that night, they took me to the hospital where I had to have 4-5 stitches to close the wound. But I didn't get an infection from the dirty newspaper that my sister used as a band-aid. I still think that was amazing.

So, now on my chin, I have a scar to remind me of the early days of the Cultural Revolution.

Red armbands

Towards the autumn of 1966, Hóng Wèi Bīng (红卫兵; Red Guards) began to appear. At that time a Red Guards group was founded in the school where my mother was working. She was the homeroom teacher for a class and her students would often come to our house. My mother had a very good relationship with her students; they never once came to criticize her, only to tell her they were proud of her.

My sister and I would see these students with their Red Guard bands at our house. Their excitement was passed on to us. It became the fashion to dress up in those Red Guard uniforms. Lots of young people on the streets were wearing one.

In the primary schools, the Little Red Guard Organization replaced the Red Pioneers. I can still see that one strange day when my sister came home from school crying. She didn't even want to eat! Later, we learned that they chose the first batch of Little Red Guards and my sister wasn't asked to join them.

It must have been so hard for my sister, because she has always been so determined to excel and be the best in everything she did. Seeing how much she wanted to be a Little Red Guard made such an impression on me. I thought that if it was that important to her, I would like to be a Little Red Guard, too.

I couldn't wait to go to primary school.