What it was like to grow up under Chinas onechild policy Nanfu Wang

My name is Nanfu.

In Chinese, “nan” means “man.”

And “fu” means “pillar.”

My family had hoped for a boy,

who would grow up
to be the pillar of the family.

And when I turned out to be a girl,

they named me Nanfu anyway.

(Laughter)

I was born in 1985,

six years before China announced
its one-child policy.

Right after I was born,

the local officials came
and ordered my mom to be sterilized.

My grandpa stood up to the officials,

because he wanted a grandson
to carry on the family name.

Eventually, my parents were allowed
to have a second child,

but they had to wait for five years

and pay a substantial fine.

Growing up, my brother and I

were surrounded by children
from one-child families.

I remember feeling a sense of shame

because I had a younger brother.

I felt like our family did something wrong
for having two children.

At the time, I didn’t question

where this sense of shame
and guilt came from.

A year and a half ago,
I had my own first child.

It was the best thing
that ever happened in my life.

Becoming a mother

gave me a totally new perspective
on my own childhood,

and it brought back
my memories of early life in China.

For the past three decades,

everyone in my family had to apply
for a permission from the government

to have a child.

And I wondered

what it was like for people
who lived under the one-child policy.

So I decided to make
a documentary about it.

One of the people I interviewed

was the midwife who delivered
all of the babies born in my village,

including myself.

She was 84 years old
when I interviewed her.

I asked her,

“Do you remember how many babies
you delivered throughout your career?”

She didn’t have a number for deliveries.

She said she had performed

60,000 forced abortions
and sterilizations.

Sometimes, she said,

a late-term fetus
would survive an abortion,

and she would kill the baby
after delivering it.

She remembered how her hands would tremble

as she did the work.

Her story shocked me.

When I set out to make the film,

I expected it would be a simple story
of perpetrators and victims.

People who carried out the policy

and people who are living
with the consequences.

But that wasn’t what I saw.

As I was finishing
my interview with the midwife,

I noticed an area in her house

that was decorated
with elaborate homemade flags.

And each flag has a picture
of a baby on it.

These were flags
that were sent by families

whom she helped treat
their infertility problems.

She explained that she had had enough

of performing abortions
and sterilizations –

that the only work she did now
was to help families have babies.

She said she was full of guilt

for carrying out the one-child policy,

and she hoped that by helping
families have babies,

she could counteract
what she did in the past.

It became clear to me
she, too, was a victim of the policy.

Every voice was telling her

that what she did was right
and necessary for China’s survival.

And she did what she thought
was right for her country.

I know how strong that message was.

It was everywhere
around myself when I grew up.

It was printed on matches,

playing cards,

textbooks, posters.

The propaganda praising
the one-child policy

was everywhere around us.

[Anyone who refuses to sterilize
will be arrested.]

And so were the threats
against disobeying it.

The message seeped into our minds

so much so that I grew up
feeling embarrassed

for having a younger brother.

With each person I filmed,

I saw how their minds and hearts
can be influenced by the propaganda,

and how their willingness
to make sacrifices for the greater good

can be twisted into something
very dark and tragic.

China is not the only place
where this happens.

There is no country on earth
where propaganda isn’t present.

And in societies that are supposed to be
more open and free than China,

it can be even harder to recognize
what propaganda looks like.

It hides in plain sight as news reports,

TV commercials, political campaigning

and in our social media feeds.

It works to change our minds
without our knowledge.

Every society is vulnerable
to accepting propaganda as truth,

and no society where propaganda
replaces the truth

can be truly free.

Thank you.

(Applause)

我叫南福。

在汉语中,“nan”的意思是“人”。

而“福”的意思是“柱子”。

我的家人一直希望有一个男孩,

他会长
大成为家庭的支柱。

当我原来是个女孩时,

他们还是给我取名为南孚。

(笑声)

我出生于 1985

年,比中国宣布独生子女政策早了六年

我刚出生

,当地官员就
来命令我妈妈绝育。

我的祖父对官员挺身而出,

因为他想要一个孙子
来继承这个姓氏。

最终,我的父母被
允许生第二个孩子,

但他们不得不等待五年

并支付巨额罚款。

长大后,我和哥哥


独生子女家庭的孩子包围。

我记得

因为我有一个弟弟而感到羞耻。

我觉得我们家因为生
了两个孩子而做错了什么。

当时,我并没有

质疑这种羞耻感
和内疚感从何而来。

一年半前,
我有了自己的第一个孩子。

这是
我一生中发生过的最好的事情。

成为母亲

让我对自己的童年有了全新的认识

,让
我想起了早年在中国的生活。

在过去的三十年里,

我家每个人都必须
向政府申请许可

才能生孩子。

我想知道

生活在独生子女政策下的人是什么样的。

所以我决定制作
一部关于它的纪录片。

我采访的其中一个人

是接生婆,她接生
了村里所有出生的婴儿,

包括我自己。

当我采访她时,她已经 84 岁了。

我问她:

“你还记得
你在整个职业生涯中生了多少个孩子吗?”

她没有送货号码。

她说她已经进行了

60,000 次强制堕胎
和绝育手术。

她说,有时,

晚期胎儿
会在流产后幸存下来,

而她会在分娩后杀死婴儿

她记得工作时她的手会颤抖

她的故事让我震惊。

当我开始制作这部电影时,

我预计这将是一个简单
的肇事者和受害者的故事。

执行政策的人和承担

后果的人。

但那不是我看到的。

当我完成
对助产士的采访时,

我注意到她家

中的一个区域装饰
着精美的自制旗帜。

每面旗帜上都有
一张婴儿的照片。

这些是

她帮助
治疗不孕症的家庭寄来的旗帜。

她解释说,她已经受够

了堕胎
和绝育手术——

她现在所做的唯一工作
就是帮助家庭生孩子。

她说,她

对实施独生子女政策充满愧疚,

希望通过帮助
家庭生孩子,

可以抵消
过去的所作所为。

我很清楚
,她也是该政策的受害者。

每个声音都在告诉她

,她的所作所为
对中国的生存是正确和必要的。

她做了她
认为适合她的国家的事情。

我知道这个信息有多强烈。

当我长大的时候,它无处不在。

它印在火柴、

扑克牌、

教科书、海报上。

赞美独生子女政策

的宣传无处不在。

[任何拒绝绝育的人都
将被逮捕。]

不服从它的威胁也是如此。

这个信息深深地渗入了我们的脑海

,以至于我从小就

为有一个弟弟而感到尴尬。

在我拍摄的每个人身上,

我看到了他们的思想和心灵
如何受到宣传的影响,

以及他们
为更大利益做出牺牲的意愿

如何被扭曲成
非常黑暗和悲惨的事情。

中国并不是唯一
发生这种情况的地方。

地球上没有一个国家没有
宣传。

而在本应
比中国更开放和自由的社会中

,可能更难
识别宣传的样子。

它以新闻报道、

电视广告、政治竞选活动

和我们的社交媒体供稿的形式隐藏在众目睽睽之下。

它可以在
我们不知情的情况下改变我们的想法。

每个社会都
容易接受宣传为真理

,没有一个以宣传
取代真理

的社会是真正自由的。

谢谢你。

(掌声)