Read Online Three Souls by Janie Chang - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Janie Chang
Tags: Historical
Ads: Link
dignity in front of her, but a few minutes later when I showed the letter to Nanmei, we both screamed in jubilation, dancing up and down the hallway while our teachers looked on tolerantly.
I had managed to wait until now—after supper, when the entire family was together—to make my triumphant announcement.
“Ah, Third Daughter. More good news?” Father sounded pleased already.
“Yes, Father. My grades were good enough to win a scholarship. Here’s the letter from Hangchow Women’s University. Four years of tuition, all provided for.”
Father read it and handed it back with a nod of satisfaction.
“A scholarship, Third Daughter. Well done, very well done. If you would like to invite some classmates for a celebration, you may do so. Or if you see something you like in a shop, put it on our account.”
“Thank you, Father.” I beamed. He was so pleased, as I had known he would be.
“But write to the university as soon as possible to decline so they can give this scholarship to another deserving student.”
Something rose in my throat. But I held my voice steady.
“Father, what do you mean? I applied for a scholarship because you said you couldn’t afford tuition. But with this scholarship, it won’t cost you anything.”
“Third Daughter, I’m very proud of your accomplishments, but you are not going because there is no need. You will not be working for a living. You have a comfortable future as a wife and mother.”
My mouth went dry. Under the dining table, Sueyin delivered a warning kick.
“But, Father, I want to work. I want to be a teacher. Madame Sun Yat-sen says China needs more teachers. It’s . . . it’s my patriotic duty.”
The dining room fell silent, an uneasy hush. Father chuckled, as though reasoning with a small child.
“Third Daughter, always so idealistic. But families such as ours do not need our women to go out and earn money. What would people think of you teaching peasants?”
“Then why did you bother sending me to school at all? Why did you bother caring about my grades?” My voice sounded strident, harsh. Father’s eyes narrowed at my angry tone. Sueyin kicked me harder.
“I sent you to school because you will marry an educated young man who will want an educated wife. High school is sufficient. As for grades, in any effort, one should always strive for the highest achievement.”
“And after such high achievement, all you want is for me to get married and . . . and breed? ”
Appalled at myself for shouting at Father, I ran out of the room sobbing—angry and frightened.
***
My yang soul regards me with disapproval. I bristle, but inside I am hurt.
You argued with him. Worse, you did it in front of the family. Could you not at least have disagreed with him in private? He shakes his grey head, exasperated. The taste of ginger bites at my tongue.
Father always took such pleasure in my achievements at school. He arrived early to every recital and awards ceremony. He always sat in the front row, where I could see him applaud. I can’t tell you how often I saw him turn to another parent and mouth the words “That’s my daughter.” But those achievements meant nothing to him, in the end.
He was proud of you, my hun soul says. We’re on the terrace outside the family shrine, and I pace back and forth, still seething at the memory.
It continues. But a career can be a difficult burden, daily drudgery. He wanted you to have a comfortable life.
It’s so unfair! My yin soul defends me. Look at Tongyin. For him, university was just another place to have a good time. But there was never any question that he would go. He was a son. You can’t blame Leiyin for being angry. What else was she to think, when Father always encouraged her to excel at school? This was the first time she realized education was only meant to increase her value in the marriage market. Her rosebud mouth purses a little, and a scent of orange blossom soothes the air.
My hun soul puts a
I had managed to wait until now—after supper, when the entire family was together—to make my triumphant announcement.
“Ah, Third Daughter. More good news?” Father sounded pleased already.
“Yes, Father. My grades were good enough to win a scholarship. Here’s the letter from Hangchow Women’s University. Four years of tuition, all provided for.”
Father read it and handed it back with a nod of satisfaction.
“A scholarship, Third Daughter. Well done, very well done. If you would like to invite some classmates for a celebration, you may do so. Or if you see something you like in a shop, put it on our account.”
“Thank you, Father.” I beamed. He was so pleased, as I had known he would be.
“But write to the university as soon as possible to decline so they can give this scholarship to another deserving student.”
Something rose in my throat. But I held my voice steady.
“Father, what do you mean? I applied for a scholarship because you said you couldn’t afford tuition. But with this scholarship, it won’t cost you anything.”
“Third Daughter, I’m very proud of your accomplishments, but you are not going because there is no need. You will not be working for a living. You have a comfortable future as a wife and mother.”
My mouth went dry. Under the dining table, Sueyin delivered a warning kick.
“But, Father, I want to work. I want to be a teacher. Madame Sun Yat-sen says China needs more teachers. It’s . . . it’s my patriotic duty.”
The dining room fell silent, an uneasy hush. Father chuckled, as though reasoning with a small child.
“Third Daughter, always so idealistic. But families such as ours do not need our women to go out and earn money. What would people think of you teaching peasants?”
“Then why did you bother sending me to school at all? Why did you bother caring about my grades?” My voice sounded strident, harsh. Father’s eyes narrowed at my angry tone. Sueyin kicked me harder.
“I sent you to school because you will marry an educated young man who will want an educated wife. High school is sufficient. As for grades, in any effort, one should always strive for the highest achievement.”
“And after such high achievement, all you want is for me to get married and . . . and breed? ”
Appalled at myself for shouting at Father, I ran out of the room sobbing—angry and frightened.
***
My yang soul regards me with disapproval. I bristle, but inside I am hurt.
You argued with him. Worse, you did it in front of the family. Could you not at least have disagreed with him in private? He shakes his grey head, exasperated. The taste of ginger bites at my tongue.
Father always took such pleasure in my achievements at school. He arrived early to every recital and awards ceremony. He always sat in the front row, where I could see him applaud. I can’t tell you how often I saw him turn to another parent and mouth the words “That’s my daughter.” But those achievements meant nothing to him, in the end.
He was proud of you, my hun soul says. We’re on the terrace outside the family shrine, and I pace back and forth, still seething at the memory.
It continues. But a career can be a difficult burden, daily drudgery. He wanted you to have a comfortable life.
It’s so unfair! My yin soul defends me. Look at Tongyin. For him, university was just another place to have a good time. But there was never any question that he would go. He was a son. You can’t blame Leiyin for being angry. What else was she to think, when Father always encouraged her to excel at school? This was the first time she realized education was only meant to increase her value in the marriage market. Her rosebud mouth purses a little, and a scent of orange blossom soothes the air.
My hun soul puts a
Similar Books
