The Little Villain on My Shoulder

The train groaned one last time released another cloud of smoke and finally stopped at the Hangzhou station. I followed my mother off the train.

I was going to stay with my aunt in Hangzhou for two semesters until my parents packed everything up and moved to Suzhou, so we could be closer to my grandparents. Without understanding the difficulty of moving across a province with three kids and two full-time jobs in China during the early 80s, I, at the age of seven, did not like the idea that I had to be away from my family for almost a year. However, I did not protest because parents made decisions for the whole family. As my mother often told us, “We all have to do things, from time to time, that we might not like.”

On the way to the bus station, my mother held my hand. I was joyful because she usually did not have time to hold our hands. Her hands were always busy—holding my younger brother when he was crying, cleaning the house, sewing clothes for me and my sister, or writing notes for the classes she had to teach five days a week. I started to like this trip for the first time because I had my mother all to myself—she asked me what I wanted to have for lunch and told me many things about Suzhou—the city she had grown up in, and where we would soon be residing. I finally became excited about the moving as my hand curled in my mother’s soft and warm palm.

“Xiaolian,” my mother said, “I am glad that your aunt asked to let you stay with her. Eight months will not be very long and Daddy will come to get you after you finish school next spring. Will you be a good girl and study hard in this new school?”

“Yes, Mum. I will,” I answered.

“Show them you are the best little girl, so Mum and Dad can be proud of you,” my mother said to me with a beautiful and proud smile on her face.

“Yes, Mum.” I made my promise. A promise I tried to carry out all my life.

It was my first day in the new school. Everything was big in my new classroom—several oversized windows on the right and a huge Chinese map hung on the opposite wall. Ms. Dong introduced me to the class with some 30 students in that first-grade classroom.

“Smile, where is your beautiful smile?” A voice came from my shoulder and sounded like my mother. “This is your first day of class, so give your new friends a smile.”

I lifted the corners of my mouth and put on a “big” smile as my mother told me every time we met someone she knew on the street. Ms. Dong took me to one of the desks on the second row where a pretty little girl sat. I learned, after a few weeks in the class, that I was honored to sit with the smartest girl—Wang Aiping—in the class. The two semesters I was in Dong Fang Elementary School, I was always in competition with my best friend, Wang Aiping.

“Wang Aiping answered more questions in class today. Do you think you can spend more time tonight to prepare for tomorrow’s class?” The little voice on my shoulder told me when I was on the way back to my aunt’s house from school. I stayed late until ten o’clock that night doing my homework and reading for next day’s class.

“You did well in the mid-term, but the final is only two months away. You need to do as well on the final exam, so Mum and Dad can be proud of you.” That was what I heard from the little voice on my shoulder when I received two perfect scores on both my reading and math exams.

After finished my first grade in Hangzhou, I was happy to move back to Suzhou with my family; however, I was not able to get rid that little voice stood on my shoulder and criticized me constantly.

As appearances became more important in the 1980s’ China, I started my middle school. Teenage girls, including me, tried to imitate the cute looks from the fashion magazines. My little voice now became a little villain on my shoulder who added new materials in her criticism.

“You need to lose some weight. Chao Ping looks so pretty in her blue dress. If you don’t lose that weight, you will never fit into a dress like that.” My little villain was on my right shoulder.

“Why didn’t Li Weng talk to you? Instead, he was so into Lu Xiaohong. Lu Xiaohong looks cute and everyone likes her. I think you need to be more like her, Xiaolian.” My little villain was on my left shoulder this time.

Throughout the teenage years, my little villain was the one who criticized me the hardest. She wanted me to be number one in all the classes I took. She wanted me to be the best among all of my siblings, cousins, and other relatives, so my parents could be proud of me at the family reunions. She wanted me to be liked by everyone in school, even the ones I only saw in the hallway–“Why didn’t they smile at you? They must not like you.”

I tried to get rid of her, but never realized how hard that was. I even got on the bus that had the longest route in Suzhou and rode to the end of that route, just so I could leave that little villain there. But she was always on my shoulder every time when I turned around.

As I grew up, I learned that I was the one who created that little villain. I learned that I cannot be the best at everything – no one can. The best thing I can do is simply my best. The little villain on my shoulder still criticizes what I do and tries to tell me what I should do, but she cannot influence me that much anymore.