By: Agape Deng (M.Phil in Speech and Language Processing)
I started pondering whether my soul was dead when I was fourteen years old after reading a patriotic poem by Sir Walter Scott titled, “My Native Land.” In it, the narrator asks if there exists a man who is so soul-dead that he has never loved or longed for his homeland. He warns readers that “if such there breathe, go, mark him well,” for he is, in short, a proud, vile wretch doomed to die alone in shame. So there I was, a little Chinese girl living in Russia learning this English poem about what it is to love your country and feeling, on one hand, guilty that I possessed no such loyalty, and on the other hand, forlorn that I had no country to call my own.
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