I just wanted to see my parents. They saw a threat.
I’m a U.S. citizen.
Born in China. Naturalized 20 years ago.
I pay taxes here, vote here, raised my kids here.
Last winter, I flew back to China for the first time in 7 years.
My mother had a stroke. My father can barely walk.
I just wanted to see them—before it was too late.
But at immigration in Shanghai, they pulled me aside.
No explanation. Just a man in uniform pointing to a secondary room.
There, they showed me screenshots of my old Facebook posts.
From years ago. Posts criticizing zero-COVID policies, sharing articles about censorship.
Posts I’d long forgotten.
One officer asked,
“Why are you spreading anti-China narratives?”
I explained I was just sharing news. That I love my parents, that I’m here only for family.
They took my phone. Asked about my job. My contacts. My visits to Taiwan.
They kept me there for four hours.
I wasn’t arrested. But I wasn’t free either.
I felt like I didn’t belong anywhere—not to China, not fully to America.
The worst part?
My mom never knew.
I didn’t want to worry her, so I smiled when I got home.
But something changed in me.
I used to think I could live in both worlds.
Now I know: in this new era, your passport doesn’t always protect you.
And your posts, even from years ago, can follow you across oceans.
