Fortress Besieged
* The title takes on the French metaphor: Le mariage est comme une forteresse assiégée; ceux qui sont dehors veulent y entrer, et ceux qui sont dedans veulent en sortir
Being an international student is underrated.
Our life is a besieged fortress.
From outside, people see only the glitz and glamor,
Yet only we know the blood and tears that accompany it.
Homesickness is a luxury; there’s no time to dwell on home. No time zone pauses for you to call home.
None of us dared to look back after our final wave to our parents at Beijing Airport T3.
We hold back tears, pretending to yawn as we turn to the airplane window framing the glowing city lights beneath.
There are times of unspeakable discomfort with nowhere to confide, such as pretending not to care when people mispronounce our last names without even trying, or mockingly asking if we are part of the communist party.
The hardest part arrives at midnight,
Where we suffocate under the weight of family expectations in our silent, hysterical cries; we mend our shattered selves to greet another dawn.
And before anyone notices, we become the sunny, carefree ones again.
Christina Zhang is a 17-year-old writer from China with a huge passion for social justice and international relations. Her work has been recognized by the Harvard International Review, Princeton Legal Journal, Blue Marble Review, among others.