My father never received any education. In China he belonged to the “poor peasants” class, so during the Cultural Revolution he wasn’t one of those persecuted—he was one of those who joined the mobs to persecute others. He told me he once had a dog as a child, and later, with his own hands, he beat it to death with a stick. He said, “The dog was mine, if I want to kill it, I kill it.”

He followed every single order and decree from the Party and the government, yet it brought him no improvement in life or in thought. For decades he remained nothing more than an ant in the system, and he gave birth to me, another ant. Still, he took pleasure in the lies spun by others, willingly becoming cannon fodder. He even hoped one day I would give birth to yet another ant, but I despise conventional marriage and chose not to “carry on the incense of the family,” which left him with endless complaints against me.

Recently, as the CCP keeps beating the drum of “reunifying Taiwan by force,” whenever he watches nationalistic videos online, it’s like he’s taken Viagra—his head flushes with blood, and he tells my mother over and over: “China is going to attack Taiwan! China will take Taiwan back! China will accomplish the great cause of reunification!” Once, I asked him: “If China takes Taiwan, what benefit does it bring you?” He had no answer. All he could say was: the government says it should be done, so it should be done. It reminded me of the Cultural Revolution—he must have thought the same way back then. I don’t argue with him, because I know it’s pointless. He no longer realizes that this is no longer a society where people devour each other, but one that should already be civilized.

My body remains trapped inside the Great Firewall, but in recent years I’ve learned how to climb over it. My eyes finally slipped out to glimpse the wider world. Only then did I realize how malicious some people can be—because to control the ignorant and naive is easy. But once your vision broadens and you see beyond, your ability to think critically grows exponentially, and then you are no longer so easily controlled. Their entire quasi-religious, feudal system will eventually crumble.

Ever since I’ve seen the outside world, I no longer feel alone or like an outcast. On the contrary, I feel Taiwan has become my spiritual homeland. I truly hope one day I can take my father to see it. He often says that if I do not continue the family bloodline for him, he will die with regret. But I believe, if he could step outside and see the wider world—understand it even a little—that would be a true rebirth for him.