Another day, another dollar not earned at the store.  Lately, I have been feeling so much pressure from upper management to drive sales and I just feel like I can’t keep up.  We keep having sales and promotions, but we’re not hitting our targets and I know I’m pushing my employees to the brink of quitting by demanding more and more of them.  I can hear them talking about me from the basement when they are supposed to be folding clothes.

 

Well, at least my employees talk. That’s more than I can say for my family.  You would think that after coming home from a long day of being the boss everyone hates, I could feel some love from my family? Dinner tonight was so quiet I almost felt like I was even more alone than if I was actually by myself.  How did it get this way? We used to be a family.  When Melinda was young, and my husband and I were in love, we would laugh and talk at the table like a real family, like one of the families on TV.  

 

Over the years it’s like our family has drifted apart.  My husband hears nagging every time I talk even though I’m just trying to communicate my needs and what I see needs to be done around the house.  My daughter doesn’t even talk to me.  

 

I’m worried about her.  Ever since she started 9^th grade its like someone sucked the soul out of her body.  My lively girl with this big group of friends is suddenly wearing black nail polish and coming home alone every day.  I try to ask her about her day, about what she’s thinking, about what’s going on but all she gives me is one word answers, or just stares at me as if she’s trying to say something but the words won’t come out.  I wish she would just talk to me.  I was a teenager once, even though it seems like forever ago.  I understand that high school can be cruel and filled with bullies and mean teachers.  Maybe I should take her shopping? Have a girls day? 

She thinks I don't notice her, but I do.  I notice that her grades are dropping, she sticks to herself more, and that she's drawing a lot.  Maybe if I get her a drawing pad and art supplies for Christmas it will show her that I notice her and she will open up to me.  Maybe.  I hope so. 
 
Until tomorrow,
Mom

            Most viscerally, especially at the beginning of the book until Lakshmi arrives in the city, I felt anger.  I felt anger towards Lakshmi’s stepfather for being so unapologetically callus, selfish, and apathetic towards his family.  I grew angry every time Ama had to endure hard labor, embarrassment, and the unequal burden of raising children and supporting a whole household despite deep poverty because her husband felt entitled to gamble away all their money.  I became increasingly angry at the pervasive systemic sexism and misogyny that even the victims, most notably Ama, not only accepted, but passed on to their daughters.  One of the moments most illustrated this was when Lakshmi started her period and her mother secluded her away from the rest of the family.  Ama shared her insight on life as a woman and menstruation.  It was utterly depressing and maddening as she gave her daughter stigma filled misinformation such as, “do not look at growing cucumbers, or they will die” framing menstruating women as some kind of cursed second-class citizen. After explaining to her daughter that her life will now be dominated by submitting and serving her future husband, she stated that for a woman, “to simply endure is to triumph”.  This quote affected me deeply because it brought to light the recognition that had been growing inside me from when I first started reading, that this book was not fictional.  The character of Lakshmi is real in the 12,000 girls who are trafficked from Nepal each year (unicef.org). 

            My anger continued throughout the rest of the book, and intertwined with disgust.  Disgust at the fellow women, the “auntie’s” that profited off selling young girls into sexual slavery and especially at Mumtaz, who was so horrifically cruel and heartless.  I felt disgust towards the men who were customers at the brothels and were providing the demand that kept traffickers in business. I still cannot fathom why an adult would harm a child in such a vile way, and my skin crawls at the thought of men who get pleasure from violating children and women who are being held against their will. 

            I also must admit that at times, especially when I put my bookmark in a paused my reading to get off the subway, or resume working, or continuing on with my regular day, that I felt grateful.  I remember thinking that I felt so grateful to be born in this country, born into a middle-class family where my family would never encounter a situation where I would need to be sold or sent away to work as a child to help my family survive.  I was grateful that I was raised to be ambitious and independent not obedient or subservient.  I was so very grateful that I was lucky enough to have education be an expectation for my life, rather than a rare privilege.  It resonated with me that I had the option of putting this book down, and leaving the world of deep, rural and urban poverty.  It scared me to know that right then, while I was cozied up on my couch on a leisurely Saturday afternoon, a girl like Laskhmi were in India being beaten, starved, or being exploited in the most abhorrent ways. 

            When I finished reading the book, these feelings were still swirling in my head.  I started researching about real-life Laskhmi’s and learned more about the reality of human trafficking in Asia and even in the United States.  I hope my students will read this book in their English class so they can become informed and look outside of their realities to put themselves in the shoes of someone who may be so far away, but still very real.

This was my first impression because the author wrote negatively about her looks and position in society, noting that her neighbors called her “Flea”, and the children at school teased her for her worn clothing.  Despite her poverty, however, Jade of Pearl was a proud Mao scholar.  She often described how she was consistently at the top of her class and how she was so proud every time the Communist Party recognized her for her pro-Mao essays or recitations of Mao’s Little Red Book.  One moment in particular that made me realize the danger of Communist China and the affects that living under propagandized regime was when Jade of Pearl mentioned that she considered turning her father in when he expressed doubt in the regime.  Additionally, as a teacher, the scene in which Jade of Pearl is made to testify against her teacher is heartbreaking.  However, I feel that this is pivotal action in the story because it is when the author first starts to show breaks in her blind faithfulness to Mao and the Communist regime. 

During Part Two, when Jade of Pearl is sent to work as a laborer on the collective farm, Red Fire Farm she further begins to open her eyes to the oppressive and brutal reality of her government.  Although she arrives at the camp as a steadfast Mao supporter, her experiences there change her perspective.  Most notably, a break in her loyalty occurred when her friend, Little Green, was caught having a sexual relationship with a fellow male laborer.  He was sentenced to death and Little Green suffered an emotional breakdown, later drowning in a river.  The harsh and violent treatment of two young people expressing their love for one another started to crack Jade of Pearls faith in the Party.  Futhermore, the reader can see the deterioration of her blind faith to the regime in her dislike of Lu, a zealous commander who is trying to sabotage her and her friend Yan’s future in the Party.  Jade of Pearl begins a love affair with Yan and through her love affair, she begins to question the teachings of Mao, especially those that forbid sexual or emotional relationships.  

By the end of the book, in Part Three, Jade of Pearl is little like her childhood self.  Now a young woman of 20 years old, she has been hurt, demoralized, and used by the Communist Party and simply stays loyal to the party out of fear for her life and her family’s life. She makes her distrust and disenchantment of Chairman Mao and the Party clear to the Supervisor, who directs the propaganda opera is forced to work for, and eventually star in.  We can see the change when the author describes her inner monologue versus the dialogue she has with other characters.  While internally Jade of Pearl no longer understands or sees value in Communist teachings, she still speaks and behaves like a loyal Party member to avoid punishment or retribution.

By the end of the book, Jade of Pearl is still intelligent, ambitious, and even insecure about her looks, but she at least gained the ability to think for herself.