Jennie M. Xue

Fighting crimes against humanity

by Jennie S. Bev

Wednesday was the 60th anniversary of the United Nations Universal Declaration of Human Rights. We have come a long way from the first legal system, which was Hammurabi’s Code; to the universal concept of jus gentium; to the Magna Carta; to the first war crimes trial of a head of state, Charles I, in 1649; to the Declaration of Rights by H.G. Wells; to the adoption of the Convention on the Prevention and Punishment of the Crime of Genocide on Dec. 9, 1948, as proposed by Raphael Lemkin; and eventually to the 1948 Universal Declaration of Human Rights.

As the result of ongoing human rights activism that has elevated its status to idealism and eventually to a worldwide ideology today, the International Criminal Court, established by the 1998 Rome Statute, serves as the only permanent court jurisdiction over four offenses: genocide, crimes against humanity, war crimes and the crime of aggression. The latter is yet to be defined by the states involved.

Writing for an imaginary homeland

by Jennie S. Bev

Everything starts with words. Throughout history, every individual of any degree of importance in society has had at least one book and multiple short pieces written by, inspired by, or dedicated to him or her. Every major event and phenomenon is likely to have had some sort of written record.

After all, written words are a repository of histories, thoughts, feelings and efforts. They are testimonies to humans’ ever-changing nature and search for ultimate understanding.

Words are both edifices and crystal balls. According to Mary Pipher, in Writing to Change the World, good writing facilitates the making of connections in a way that inspires open-heartedness, thinking, talking and action. It widens readers’ understanding of the world, and empowers and inspires them. And writers who write away from their homelands might be those who are guilty of the crime of being distant and receiving accolades for seeing things in a magnified manner, as if looking through a powerful telescope.

Life’s impermanence and momentary motherhood

by Jennie S. Bev

Life is a series of impermanence. People and things come and go. There are hellos and goodbyes throughout our lifetime. But the most painful goodbye for a woman is the death of her child, either born or unborn. I did not realize how painful it was until I experienced it recently.

Unknowingly already pregnant for seven weeks, suddenly I was pronounced expecting only to find out a few hours later that the baby had died. The surreal elated feeling of joy was suddenly overridden by deep profound sadness, the rare kind of grief experienced only by mothers who have lost their children. Every mother who has lost a child remembers him or her in every breath she takes for as long as she lives.