enter the dragon

june fourth 2004 marked the 15th anniversary of the Tienemen Square Massacre in Beijing. in the spring 1989, democratic movement led by young intellectuals was stirring in the world's most populous country. as university students poured into Tienemen Square to demand democratic reform, armed with nothing but peace and a desire to change motherland, overseas Chinese like us scattered across the world watched attentively with sympathy and concern. how can anyone fault a young though naive generation of believers of China, who despite its size and geographical advantages, has been nothing more than a three-legged dog bowing reluctantly to foreign powers for the entire 20th century? even Beijing police sent to maintain order were moved to tears, abandoned their posts and jointed their cause. local store owners donated food and supplies to applaud the peaceful deomonstration. a spirit of unity was in the air.

pulling ourselves from the daily grind in toronto, we gathered with our extended family every evening to watch its progress on television. we secretly held hope clinched tightly in our fists, however irrational it may seem knowing the long suffering history of our motherland. as I sat on the cold cement floor in Nathan Philips Square during a candellight vigil, surrounded by a motley of Chinese from all walks of life but shared the unique experience of displacement from our origin, we remembered our roots and showed support for our brothers and sisters fighting for our collective future. We prayed. Most of all, we hoped. We hoped that tomorrow will see a better and stronger China, one that we can show the world we are more than a nation of expendable railways slave yellowmen living hand-to-mouth, more than a nation of mocked immigrants barely tolerated as eyesore and denied basic human rights. We hoped with raw and towering anticipation, as history unfolded.

then came the fateful morning when the tanks marched in to color yet another bloody page of Chinese history. One must remember that leadership was occupied by a harder older generation: one that long endured the opium-sickened Ching-dynasty, the lengthy and weary Chinese civil war, then the ruthless Japanese invasion that resulted in generations of hatred and unforgiveness. The Mao-led communism was born out of desperation and survival. the tragedy-hardened leadership was not about to amend its ways. the result was an entire Beijing generation of educated young men and women wiped out simply because they believed. as mothers weeped, street workers scrabbed blood stains off the grounds and walls and nations around the world nominally denounced the military action, stunned and speechless, we returned to our daily chores with a stiletto stabbed in our hearts.

15 years later, as China succumbs to economic greed while stagnant in immoveable politics, the story of Tienemen Square is not lost among a body of surviving witnesses. With our fists still tightly clinched, in silence we continue to hope for a better tomorrow. we hope a return to rudimental ethics famed in the vintage Chinese thoughts. we hope forgiveness and love can once again revive and gather a dispersed people. what is not possible with men is possible with God. the dragon has been undully dormant for much too long.