Cross-generational Conversation:
An Observation of a Mainlander’s Memory on the 228 Event

Jacky Avocado Tao
5 min readJun 7, 2019

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前言:

本來說好一個月更新一篇,無奈這學期因為忙著構思碩論,進度就耽擱下來了。但這期間也並非沒有思考和寫作,今天分享的這篇便是所上課程「後殖民專題:『再現』轉型」(Postcolonial Studies: "Representing" Transition)的參訪報告:我在二二八紀念日當天和家人去南海路的二二八國家紀念館,並且記錄下兩代間的對話和觀察。作業的內容本來是看展,但我納入了對話,並把它當成主軸,對展覽的反思反而是最後一段。最近又獲得不少追蹤數,覺得不寫點東西實在不太好意思,但又懶得把文章翻成中文,因此請大家多擔待了。

The entrance of the National 228 Memorial Museum

On Feb. 27, I texted my mom asking if she would like to accompany me to the National 228 Memorial Museum on the national holiday. She replied that she did not want to attend any political event or anything that would make her uncomfortable. I assured that it would only be a museum visit, and she could leave anytime. Finally, she was on board.

For those who are unfamiliar with the 228 event in Taiwan, here is the Wikipedia page: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/February_28_incident

Though I have endorsed the idea of transitional justice since college (my own transition would be another story), it was my first time being at a 228-related event, and the reason I invited her, was attempting to start a cross-generational conversation based on a repairing mother-son relationship. I wanted to see if a well-functioning relationship would facilitate such difficult conversations, and what better place to start the dialogue than a museum curating such difficult knowledge? Because those museum exhibits were only catalysts for our talk, it’s difficult for me to distinguish my description and response towards the museum visit. However, I also paid a second visit in order to provide a more detailed description of the museum space and exhibits. In what follows, I want to first provide a brief account of my mom’s memory regarding my grandparents’ involvement in the 228 event, and some doubts she has towards the exhibition as well as the mainstream opinion about the event. Then I will move on to my response to the exhibition.

It was quite awkward to talk at the beginning of our visit, but when we reached the third section of the exhibit, where the details of the event were showcased, she started to talk about my grandparents. They moved to Taiwan with the China Merchants Group in 1947, the exact year when the 228 event took place[1]. My mom recalled that they hid in a ship at Keelung Port for ten days for fear of being killed by Taiwanese, and it was till the 1990s (I presumed it was when President Lee apologized for the event), that my mom first heard my grandmother recount their experience. According to my mom, when Grandma was telling the story, she still seemed scared, as if she has never recovered from the shock. Hearing this, I replied, “So in some way, they are also victims of the event, right? They just left their country, but was forced to stay on the boat, because the supposed ‘home’ did not welcome them. They have done nothing wrong, and are just chess pieces controlled by some invisible yet dominant power.” My mom agreed with my conclusion, and during the rest of the visit, her reluctance towards the visit softened.

[1] Interestingly, according to Wikipedia, the China Merchants Group did not set up the Taiwan branch until Apr. 30, 1949. Did they move some staff beforehand? Or did my grandma misremember the date? This requires some further investigation. I already registered an account at the Academia Historica, and when access was granted, I may have some further information on the historical background.

However, she still had some doubts about how the exhibit was designed, and how the event was remembered. For example, she questioned why the government would keep the execution files if the 228 event was such a mistake. They must have known that these files would be used against them in the future. Also, when we were under the victims’ wall in the last section, she studied every picture, and asked me why there weren’t any mainlanders recorded. These questions were not difficult to answer[2], but I think they provided an insight into how reconciliation and coexistence could be possible.

[2] For the first one, the reason why the KMT government kept all the files, was because they thought of their action in the 228 event as legal governance rather than massacre. As for the second, because most of the victims after Chiang sent the troops to Taiwan were Taiwanese.

In some way, my mom was distrustful towards the island as my grandma was: If people’s common impression or simplified recollection about the 228 event was still “mainlanders killed tons of Taiwanese,” descendants of innocent mainlanders like my mom will still think they are carrying a burden that should not have been theirs. I know some scholars are trying to provide a more nuanced definition of the event, and the exhibit also avoids any simple definition of the event. Therefore, the question here should be: How could we make the information more accessible to the public? This is especially important if we want to break the gap in cross-generational conversations. What I experimented this time, was to avoid any direct rejection of her opinions, and talked about this delicate issue based on a repairing family relationship. The result? When we left the museum, I asked her if the visit made her uncomfortable. She said experience was not bad, and she was glad to have this conversation with me. I would count this as a success.

Compared with the rewarding conversation, I would not call my second visit a success. I tried to study the exhibits carefully, but most of them actually reaffirmed what I already knew. This experience is similar to Lehrer and Milton’s rendition of Britzman’s “lovely knowledge” (8), but I did not reject the information that contradicts my understanding. In fact, I think my response is quite the opposite: I am deeply sorry for what happened, and I believe that justice is served with every redress; yet, with the overwhelming names on the victims’ wall and the victims’ archive tower, I became numb, as if my sadness and empathy had reach a limit, and all the names became meaningless. When I left the museum, all that was left was the “too bad, so sad” we discussed in class. I do not think this is the intended effect that the curators hoped, and also I feel bad about my response, but I just cannot help it.

Works Cited

Lehrer, Erica and Cynthia E. Milton. “Introduction: Witness to Witnessing.” Introduction. Curating Difficult Knowledge: Violent Pasts in Public Places. Ed. by Erica, Milton and Monica Eileen Patterson. Basingstoke, UK: Palgrave, 2011. Print.

輪船招商局 “lún chuánzhāo shāng jú” [China Merchants Steam Navigation Company]. Wikipedia: The Free Encyclopedia. Wikimedia Foundation, Inc. 13 Mar. 2019. Web. 16 Mar. 2019.

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