Chapter Text
Unlike your typical Western mother, the Chinese mother believes that-
A family photograph: Brains and Brawn. And… Beautiful Boy. Black hair and square glasses. Plain grey sweater-vest. Plain grey tie. He wears a Falun symbol on a chain around his neck. The yin, the yang, the central swastika. He stands between his parents. Anxious and odd.
Schoolwork always comes first
Instead of a spotlight, a movie fragment; Brawn is redheaded, hot blooded and vivacious. One of Shlomit and Izebel’s huge brood. Brains, though, hails from Dragon Springs and - before that - Jilin. He never speaks of that. The necklace is his.
An A- grade is a bad grade
Practically speaking, Beautiful is their child. Brawn is the caretaker. The one who bakes cookies and reads bedtime stories. Who picks him up early and treats him to ice cream and the occasional spontaneous brash trip. Laughing, they run into the ocean, with all their clothes on.
Your children must be two years ahead of their classmates in maths
Legally, biologically, Beautiful belongs to Brains. He’s the one who drives him to and from school. Who helps with homework. Who pays for cram school and Chinese school and violin. Who peers over his shoulder as Beautiful Boy works through a math problem.
Not good enough. Your penmanship. Do it again.
Beautiful does.
You must never compliment your children in public
Brawn does. Often. Loudly. To anyone who will listen.
Paul is two years ahead of his classmates! He plays violin and piano! He’s a real chip off the old block, eh? Kidding! Kidding!
Brains does not. Never. He doesn’t compliment Beautiful in private either… except for very late, creeping into his room at night. Watching over him in bed. Never touching him, of course, he would never dream of it. Just watching. Humming an old John Lennon song… The monster’s gone… he’s on the run and your daddy’s here…
If your child ever disagrees with a teacher or a coach, you must always take the side of the teacher or the coach
Professor Ratigan’s been generous enough to offer you a summer internship. You want to turn it down? For what?! Your silly little girlfriend?! Some job selling sunglasses on the beach?!
I don’t want… Beautiful mumbles. Baba, you don’t understand-
I don’t understand! I don’t understand how I could raise such an… an idiot son! So stupid! So ungrateful! Waste of money, you know that?! In China, they would shoot you and sell you for organs!
Rewind; Brains in Jilin. Brains in prison. Head shaved. Necklace torn. They call him poison. CCP soldiers. One of them points his gun to Brains’ head.
Not this one. He’s still good for something.
Fast forward; You! You’re good for nothing!
Beautiful flees the house in tears.
The only activities your children should be permitted to do are those in which they can eventually win a medal, and…
Another photograph; Beautiful Boy. And a redheaded woman. They look happy. Two small children. A boy and a girl. They look happy. Brawn stands there, smiling beside them. He looks happy.
Brains looks down at the photograph. He looks anything but.
That medal must be gold.