Power kills, and absolute power kills absolutely… Iris Chang Xiu Xiu (1998), by Joan Chen
My name is Quen, and I was born on October 1, 1975. I live in Chengdu and my father sews clothes, and he works at the factory with Mr. Yue Lu. My mother also knows Mr. Lu because she often speaks about her time when she like Xiu Xiu, Mr. Lu’s daughter, was sent down to grow rice. My mother received her permits to return to our village, but she tells me of the unfortunate story of Xiu Xiu who did not. It is May 29, 1989. And my uncle who is a student talks to me about democracy. He also tells me that the government will hurt me, and that I should fight them. That night I go to bed, but I cannot sleep. I believe I am valuable. And I believe that it is okay that I am a girl who is valuable. It is not right for me to have to worry about unemployment, domestic violence, sex-selective abortions, having to abandon my girl child because may chosen husband my not value girl children, or be forced into prostitution and trafficking if my family could not provide for me. I would rather commit suicide. But I have decided that if I must die, the quiet way will not make a statement. But if I joined the protest On June 4, 1989 at Tiananmen Square, I could die with others who must have democracy now. My death would make a statement to the world. I am a peaceful person, and I do not believe in publically misbehaving. However, the death and victimization of Xiu Xiu must and will not go unrecognized
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