Part 1, who is my biological father?  

  I have not seen a doctor for almost eleven years. By the way, since I was born, I have not taken any prescription or over-the-counter drugs, except for allergy-related drugs or sometime, cold-flu and, very rare, toothache antibiotic drugs. For the first time, since January 2008, I went to see a doctor and undertook a full physical examination. When physician assistants asked my parents’ medical history, I didn’t know how to answer them as I am not entirely sure that both my father and mom are my biological parents. Is my mom really my mom or is she just like other protectors sent over here to protect me? Yes, I am still very healthy.  However, everything happens in my life, just like the science fiction and fantasy, it causes my brain bemusement and general confusion. Perhaps, someday I can figure it out who I am and where I am from. However, you should read the complete「Jennies story」 and make your own judgment.

    I was born and raised in a very rural area in Taiwan where life was simple and most people were poor. I remember that neighbor got together to help each other with harvest chores and the construction of their homes. However, I had lived everyday under the tyranny of an extremely brutal and violent father for as far as I could remember. Every his strikes were a deadly blow and intended to kill me during my childhood years of age three to six years old. I did not know as to when I would be either killed by his atrocious behavior toward me or be sold as he fancied whichever came first to satisfy his extreme hatred of me. The following paragraphs are an accurate excerpt from Jennie’s Story. The example of how brutal and cruel my father was.  First in my memory, he tried to kill me when I was 3 years old. The contents below may not be suitable for children under 13. He desperately wanted to kill me. He tried at least three times between my ages of three and six. I still did not understand why he had to kill me. He died when I was between late seven to early eight years old.

    I sat on the dirt floor playing alone in the main hall. My grandparents had built one story row houses from mud brick for their four children. My mom was lying sick in the bed. Looking malevolent and vicious, my father walked hurriedly towards me from outside holding a large bamboo carrying pole in his two hands. He tried to hit me with the heavy bamboo carrying pole. The bamboo carrying pole brushed against my left arm and hit the ground instead, the pole splintered in half. The bamboo carrying pole was roughly 5”D X 8’L. A bamboo carrying pole of that size would normally be considered to be for heavy duty use and yet it broken in half. One can imagine that the force of impact could have not only easily killed a 3 years old child but an adult as well.

    I scampered and crawled underneath the table on left; there was a bench in front of the table. My father made several abrupt and forceful thrusts with the sharp end of the broken half of the pole. Fortunately the pole could not reach me as I had already crawled to the far end of table against wall on the left. He hurled the bench away and made another thrust. My hand and belly was bleeding and blood dripped on the mud floor. The sharp pain jolted through my hand and belly.

    My mom must have heard my tremblingly crying voice and the commotion made by my father with the pole. She ran over and tried to grab the half of a broken carrying pole from my father hands. He forcibly pushed her away and she fell on the floor. My mom got up and stood face to face with my father in front of the table and screamed “I will fight you to the death, we are all dying together”. She persisted and successfully grabbed broken pole from my father’s right hand. He stopped and abruptly left the hall in a huff. My mom looked so frail. She collapsed to the floor. I crawled out and sat beside her on the floor. She was crying. But I did not, perhaps because of the terrible throbbing pain from the stabbing wounds and also of the state of terror and shock that gripped me. There and then, I lost consciousness.

    I did not know when I regained my consciousness. I could only remember my mom carried me and gently placed me on our long burgundy red wood bench which was similar with one in the communal main hall. It was already afternoon and a whole day must have gone by. The bleeding had stopped and the pain was gone. But I was still weak. My mom tried to cheer me up and gave me a cake from the June festival. I looked down in despair when a half of my precious dropped cake on the floor and I cannot dispel the image of helpless how a tiny three years old kid I was, sitting on a 18” high bench with my shoeless feet still hanging 6 inches above ground.

 Part II, Politics should not play any role in combating global warming.

 I left the place in the yonder above as a small child. I can vaguely remember that there was a very beautifully water soaked tropical forest on my right side and a huge dark blue lake with ripple waves on my left. I didn’t know whether the water on the forest ground is due to the flood or it is on its perennial natural state. I am very worried about global warming and President Trump denies lasting impact. He claimed that climate scientists are politically motivated. President Trump has ever considered the welfare of the next generations who may be affected by extreme weather events. I am glad that China, EU and Russia have taken the lead in combating global warming.

Jennie PC Chiang/江佩珍, 美國   

CC.: President Trump, leader of China and Taiwan and leaders of the countries indicated in this article as well as Chinese media.