Ellie Rao

Hi, my name is Ellie Rao and I’ve been dancing with Shen Yun for 9 years. 

I heard once that dance is like a sunset: beautiful, short and poignant. Dancing is not an easy career, so unless you are absolutely in love with it, it’s hard to continue day in and day out. 

Yet what got me into dance and what kept me going all these years isn’t passion. It’s faith. 

I was born into a spiritual family in China. My whole family believed in Falun Dafa, a meditation practice in the Buddhist tradition. It teaches us to be truthful, compassionate and tolerant. 

Unfortunately, due to its rising popularity, the Chinese Communist party launched a massive crackdown on Falun Dafa. Those who practiced it were arrested, lost their jobs, separated from their families; their lives completely changed overnight. 

My dad was a food inspector official and my mom was a nurse at a government-run hospital. Both were well-paid jobs, so there wasn't any reason why we should leave China. He had to make a choice: renounce his belief, or face persecution. My dad wouldn't give up.

I remember clearly that summer morning when I was eating turnip cakes with my dad for breakfast. Someone started knocking on the door. My grandma didn’t want to open it, but my dad said “it’s alright.” When she did, two men came in and told us they were here to check on the water-meter, but something didn’t feel right. The room became tense, and then the two men became three, then four, then five, till there was seven of them, and they started dragging my dad away.

I ran to the window and saw them force my dad into a police car. I wanted to cry aloud, to scream, to call out to him. But all I could do was watch, watch while grasping the window frame, watch while my grandma was saying: don’t go, don’t go.  Then I saw the police car turn smaller and smaller. 

That was 20 years ago, and that was the last time I saw my dad — being dragged away.

Two weeks later, we learned he had been persecuted to death in the labor camp.

There was not much we could do in China anymore; my mom lost her job and she faced a lot of pressure every day. In the end, we left our home and fled to America. 

Growing up in the US, I realized a lot of kids take things for granted. I know it’s hard to understand how much freedom is worth; sometimes you don’t realize its value until you’ve lost it. 

Because of what happened, I became really shy, and would often get tongue-tied when asked about my family. But in dancing, I found a voice, a way to tell my family’s story, and a way to cherish the memory of my dad and millions of other Chinese people who sacrificed their lives for their belief.  

I think he wanted to tell the Chinese government that you can take away someone's job, someone's home, or even someone's life, but you can never take away their faith. 

Even though I wished my dad could’ve been there to watch me grow up, I know he would be proud to see me dance onstage with the hope that one day, the Chinese people could enjoy this same freedom.

When I think of my dad, I imagine him saying to me:  When did you get so big... Don't worry so much about how you look, what's important is what you have inside… Don't forget to always smile…

I would want to say to him in return, Dad, don’t worry. Mom and I are doing well. The first time I watched Shen Yun, it touched me and made me think of you. Every year in our company, we dedicate one special piece to the ongoing brutality towards Falun Gong. Every time I dance this piece, I feel your courage in me, and it is the reason why I continue to dance today.