Hi! My name is Audrey Yu.

I was born Maria Audrey Lukito in Surabaya, Indonesia, on May 1, 1988.

The government at that time severely discouraged the use of Chinese names, and so I was not given a Chinese name at birth. The use of Chinese language in any public venue including schools, media broadcasts, radios etc. was also banned, and so I learned English, French and Indonesian long before learning Mandarin Chinese.

I had the misfortune to be born as a child prodigy in a country that severely discouraged critical thinking, and where citizens in general do not like to think very deeply. I started questioning the transient nature of happiness and the meaning of life before I entered kindergarten, and soon realised that the “real” me scared everybody out. So I had to pretend that I was thoughtless, just as people expected me to, while secretly harbouring all the burning questions in my heart.

At the age of 6 (Primary 1), I first learned about my country’s national propaganda and political ideology, just like all my other classmates. By that time I had been secretly trying to understand the meaning of life and happiness for more than two years, and so I instantly fell in love with my country’s national ideology (the Pancasila), while all my other friends didn’t have a clue what they’re really learning. So began my life of secret torment and suffering.

People in my country only understand suffering if it is visible (e.g. if someone is severely emaciated, or wasted, or lives in the slums). Doubly unfortunately, I happen to be born in a financially well-off family, and so my secret suffering (of never knowing genuine human relationships due to the “curse” of my prodigious brain) was never acknowledged or understood. After all, most people see genius as a gift to be envied, not as a condition which comes with its own set of challenges. Triply unfortunately, I happen to fall in love with patriotism in a country where patriotism is often seen as fake, as mere pretence. The problem is compounded by the fact that my countrymen couldn’t actually “tell” the differences between an Indonesian of Chinese descent, Chinese culture itself, the people born and raised in the PRC, as well as the evolution of Marxist ideology (e.g. the difference between North Korean and contemporary Chinese Marxism). So I was always an outsider, never being understood, always having to pretend for the sake of my family’s honour.

Outwardly, I channeled all my discontent towards my studies. I graduated Summa cum Laude and Phi Beta Kappa at the age of 16 from one of the best and oldest universities in the States, The College of William and Mary in Virginia. What’s more, I never struggled in my studies. In a life devoid of genuine human relationships (not for my lack of trying; my fellow countrymen simply can’t understand my ideas), studying is my only joy. After graduation, I wanted to enlist in the Indonesian military (the ABRI), which no Chinese girl had ever done before. To my shock, I became the brunt of ridicule and threats from all sides (even from my own family), as well as endless racial abuse. When I got depressed, no one even bothered to understand the complex factors that brought about my depression; the blame was always on “my pushy parents” (despite their never pushing me to do anything; if anything, they pushed me to play Nintendo and eat ice cream, without success).

That’s when I started to write. I’ve written 8 published books so far, 3 of which (the ones dealing with Indonesia’s national identity) have been archived by various institutions worldwide, including Harvard University Library, the National Library of Congress, the National Library of Australia, Leiden University, Melbourne University, Yale University, Cornell University, UC-Berkeley and many others. Despite all of this, I was still seen as the “girl driven to craziness by her pushy parents” by my fellow countrymen (99.9% of which hate to think deeply and love to stereotype). I got abused by various religious leaders (in my quest for meaning, naturally I turned to religion early in life, only to be abused by these people). In a country where nationalism is only skin-deep, religious leaders hold much power, and many of them (unfortunately) can’t handle that power well. 🙁

Three years ago, I started working in China, where for the first time in my life, no one bullied me for my patriotism, or for my views, or for being Chinese (naturally). I worked formally (on a full time basis) at Shanghai New Channel school, teaching English literature and preparing my students to take the SAT tests. SAT tests cannot be taken in any location in the Mainland, and so my students had to go to Hongkong or Macau simply to take these tests. I have also worked informally/on a part time basis at various educational institutions such as Shanghai Jiaotong University, DS Education and U-Elite Shanghai. Before coming to Shanghai, I worked (interned) as a translator and English teacher at Buhlergroup Changzhou (Jiangsu province).

Four years ago (Easter 2014) also marked the beginning of my Catholic journey. Catholicism has a beautiful concept called Redemptive Suffering, which means that our sufferings, no matter how invisible or banal, are precious and have redemptive value if we offer them to the Lord. It was this doctrine that first attracted me to the Church, for I have suffered my whole life without ever getting anyone’s sympathy or understanding. (Standard reaction: You ungrateful jerk! At least you have 3 meals a day and a roof over your head! What are you whining about?) Well, my friends, genuine human relationships are much more important to our lives than rich platter. If any of you have ever watched the film “Passengers” (starring Jennifer Lawrence), you’d understand. In that movie, a passenger called Jim woke up from hibernation 90 years early, and in spite of the spaceship’s luxuries and daily conversations with the bartender android robot, it’s just not enough for him. We, as human beings, need genuine relationships more than anything else in the world. To be deprived of that due to nature and nurture is simply the most painful torture imaginable. To know that these sufferings have meaning and that “God” isn’t merely a merry spectator in Heaven, but a fellow partaker of my sufferings, has saved my life countless times. Now whenever I’m in despair, I turn to the Eucharist. The good thing about living in Shanghai is that it has an adoration chamber (where the Eucharist is always on display) that is open all day every day. As far as I know, no other place in China has this luxury. So whenever I’m in need of love or companionship, I go to Mass and Adoration.

Happy reading and have a blessed day!

(Maria Thérèse) Audrey YU Jia Hui