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.