I was in first grade when the teacher asked us one day to tell the class the names of people we knew who had visited Tiananmen Square during a counterrevolutionary gathering. It was a spontaneous people’s movement to commemorate the death of Premier Chou En-lai and considered a precursor to the 1989 pro-democracy protests that led to the bloody crackdown. I was only 8 and I had no idea that my teachers were trying to trick me. So I raised my hand and volunteered my mother’s name.

When I told my parents, they panicked. My mother went into hiding, and I had to live with the guilt of betraying her.

As these stories come back to me, I realise what a great thing it is that China has changed as much as it has.