Y. K. Pao: My Father

1: Eldest Daughter Sets the Standard

7 1 Eldest Daughter Sets the Standard After the war,1 Father and Mother returned to Shanghai and moved into a large and attractive house in the French Concession. We lived in this home for four years. My second sister Bessie was born there. The three-storey, European-style house featured a red, pitched roof and a small apron garden. The house had a lacquered parquet-floored ballroom on the second floor where a grand piano stood, and I have memories of sitting on my Aunt Rita Lee’s lap, banging away on it. Perhaps it was that large, shimmering dance floor that inspired my recent interest in ballroom dancing. Father and Mother in Shanghai in 1948. Y. K. Pao, My Father 8 When we arrived in Hong Kong, our living environment was not exactly luxurious; it was a flat on the third floor of an apartment building on Seymour Road. We had four bedrooms. Grandfather and Grandmother had one room, Father and Mother another. At first Bessie and I shared a room and then, after our second year in Hong Kong, we were joined by Cissy. The fourth bedroom was for our unmarried aunts. I do not have Bessie’s beauty, Cissy’s smartness or Doreen’s wit, but my being the eldest enabled me to catch Father’s eye before he became completely absorbed by the shipping business. Mother told me that she and Father did not have me until seven years after their marriage, so they must have been thrilled when I came. After the younger sisters arrived, I was constantly reminded by Father’s saying to me, “You are the eldest. Whatever you do, you must set an example for your sisters.” Had I known that almost all Chinese parents issue this injunction to their first-born, I would not have taken it so seriously—and I would have said it to my first-born, too—but back then the seriousness of the first-born was cast in steel. The author on her third birthday, date with the occasion carefully inscribed by Father in Shanghai. Note the pinafore dress which was made by Mother. Eldest Daughter Sets the Standard 9 Father was a visionary. Although he was brought up in a traditional world, he was never held back by traditions and superstitions. In the 1940s and 1950s, Chinese men carried on the family line and established a career, while society deemed a woman “virtuous” only when she was without “talents” and without higher education. Her role was to marry a man and spend her life breeding and being supportive and submissive to her husband. Father’s views differed considerably. I will never forget his words, “Anna, it does not matter whether you are a man or woman, you must learn to stand on your own two feet. Do not rely on your parents or family or your husband. Study hard, make good grades at school and go to university. With a good education, you hold the key to success in life.” Father also told me not to be like Mother. What he meant was that Mother was a typical traditional Chinese woman. She was submissive, never received any formal education beyond middle school and was dependent on her husband for all major decisions in her life. Mother’s circle of friends did not go beyond those who came with her from Shanghai and Ningbo, where she originated. She never read the newspaper; nor was she interested in the world outside her immediate circle. She lived for her husband and children, loved them more than herself and did everything just for the family. Aside from going to friends’ homes for mahjong or occasional overseas trips with Father, she limited her life to just the few rooms in her home. We could almost always find Mother in the same chair in her house. At that time, Father was running a small trading company which he and a few of his friends from Shanghai had started. He had more time then and came home earlier than in his later life. The first thing he did as he entered the house was to check my school work. He would listen patiently to my memorized lessons, be it in history or Tang poetry, making sure that I made no mistake. If I forgot a word or made a mistake, he would say, “Lao Da (老大 Number One, referring to my...