To Thine Own Self Be True
By Tammy Lai-Ming Ho
A typical night when extended family congregate to feast, except this is nothing typical. It is a repeat of 2014 when yellow umbrellas bloomed across the city. Now someone says all protesters are rioters, disrupting Hong Kong’s daily routine with bricks and kitchen implements. Now another says check your source of information. I bit my tongue so as not to cause an explosion. The ones who raised me see only one-sided news. Are we separated just by a TV channel? The streets that I walk past to get to my Sham Shui Po home are covered in smoke. It is surreally beautiful, like a music video, but incongruous to the humble shuttered shops. Sleepless nights beckon conscience. Do we turn a blind eye, or do we fight? A city of people reevaluating life, calculating what is worthwhile. I look at myself in the mirror: why the hell can’t you do more?
