In 1989, I was on Tiananmen Square with the students, living in their makeshift tents and joining their jubilant singing of the Internationale. In the two decades since, each time that I have gone back, visions from those days seem to return with increasing persistence.
“What greater aspiration and challenge are there for a mother than the hope of raising a great son or daughter?”
“Of a very religious linebacker: He knocks the hell out of people, but in a Christian way.”