This English version may have been machine-generated from the Chinese original and may not convey the original meaning accurately.
This week, the weather put on a different face again. Just a few days ago, we were bundled up against the cold wind; today, when we returned to Times Square, the air had already turned mild again. That familiar springtime feeling, with a hint of warmth, had returned, as if reminding us that last week’s cold was neither an ending nor a beginning, but simply part of the process.
So are we.
This time, there were four of us.
Compared with the two of us last week, there were a few more people, and standing together felt somewhat different. Not because our “scale had grown,” but because we felt stronger.
Before we began, I gave each person an apple. This was not a symbolic ritual, but a very simple expression. We are all far from our homeland, and some of us are also far from our families. We each live along different tracks, yet on Monday evening, we came together in the same place. This is not an easy thing. We hope for one another’s safety, and we also hope that through this persistence, no one feels like an isolated individual. Much of the time, the hardest part of persevering with something is not the environment, but the way people gradually become isolated along the way. But when you know that the people around you are thinking about similar things and carrying similar burdens, that sense of isolation is weakened a little.
At today’s gathering, a warm breeze rose, and our footsteps slowed.
When we raised the banner, some people stopped to look, some held up their phones to take pictures, and others applauded us and gave us a thumbs-up. The flow of people was still heavy, but they were no longer merely a hurriedly passing backdrop. Some brief connections were taking place.
These reactions may not bring about any immediate result, but they made this evening different. At least in this moment, we were not completely drowned out.
But I also know very clearly that these responses themselves cannot be confirmed.
I do not know whether the people who took pictures today will post them after they return; I do not know what was in the minds of those who gave us a thumbs-up; and I do not know whether this resonance will still be there next week. Perhaps next week we will return to a state where no one pays any attention; perhaps there will once again be only two of us.
So this instance of being “seen” does not constitute any kind of guarantee.
The weather changes, from cold to warm and then to the uncertainty of what comes next; the outside response changes too, sometimes indifferent, sometimes responsive. We still cannot say what these things will ultimately bring.
But at least today, the four of us persisted in standing here. Perhaps change is quietly taking place.
The 44th time, recorded here.
Next Monday, we continue.