Ten years ago, my parents came to visit me from my hometown. Of course, I took them to some representative places in Shanghai.
It was a sunny afternoon, and I can no longer recall the specific place where the incident occurred. In short, it was a sidewalk with rapid flow of people. A few meters in front of me, a child put his right hand into the woman's backpack next to him.
"Thief!" I shouted without thinking, loud and clear, and focused on all the eyes around.
The child suddenly retracted his hand and ran away across the road. Before he left, he looked back and stared, looking like a Xinjiang man.
"Let's go", my father's hasty whisper pulled me out of the excitement and tension of volunteering, and my mother suddenly pulled me out. I was wondering that two Xinjiang people suddenly passed behind us, with fierce eyes and ferocious expressions, and said something in a language I didn't understand.
Finally, in full view of the public, they stood at the end of the sidewalk, waiting for us to "throw themselves into the trap".
The sun is bright and the people are rushing, but I feel cold and lonely from the heart. In addition to my parents, the distance of more than ten meters between me and two Xinjiang people is a blank in consciousness.
I tried to be bold, I tried to be fearless, but my parents pulled me onto the bus just parked nearby.
The sound of the engine gave me a shock, but the frustration of running away suddenly rose from the bottom of my heart. "Why are you so timid?" I asked my parents in confusion and even angrily, ignoring the surprised eyes of passengers around me.
Mother's reprimand did not suppress my out of control mood, I am still plausibly. He in front of me - my father, who has always had a sense of justice in my heart - is so strange. I need a statement, a statement that bridges my broken values.
Father said nothing, but looked out of the car gloomily all the way. I saw no result and angrily ended the topic.
Until now, neither he nor I have mentioned it again.
For more than ten years, thieves in Xinjiang have been rampant.
More Than This,
I saw the absurdity of the Nanjing Peng Yu case;
I saw the indifference of Xiaoyueyue incident;
I saw one porcelain touch after another, reversing again and again;
And today's # women who stayed in Beijing Hotel were attacked #.
I think of my father who was covered by my criticism on the bus more than ten years ago, and his dim eyes.
Those who have acted bravely for righteousness are owed the protection they deserve.
What this society can't do, my father did.
Although later, he was hurt by his son.
