Aijia by Aijia Zhang (Massachusetts, 17)

Seventeen years ago,
my father named me Aijia.
Ai for love, Jia for family.
If you put it together, mhea said,
it means “loving,” or “family loving.”
Eight years later,
Didi—younger brother came.
His name is Qijia and I yelped in joy
when I saw how it matched mine.
But when I asked father about it,
he responded with a Chinese proverb:
Qijia, Zhiguo, Pingtianxia:
Order your family,
Rule your country,
Bring peace to the world.

And even though both of our names conclude with
family, sometimes I can’t help
but wonder if
my character resolves
with me scrubbing wooden tables,
me making soup for my husband,
me doing the laundry, the
letters and numbers in my mind useful
only for teaching my children.
If my story ends only with me loving,
loving my parents and my husband and my children
and their children and their children’s children
until my life runs out.
While family is only the start for my brother because
we are waiting, waiting
for him to save the universe.





Aijia Zhang is a seventeen-year-old aspiring creative nonfiction writer currently living in Byfield, Massachusetts. Her work has been recognized by the Scholastic Art and Writing Awards.