Time capsule (n.): a container storing a selection of objects chosen as being typical of the present time, buried for discovery in the future.

I have always been fascinated encountering those Hollywood movies, with scenes of young pupils carefully draft letters for themselves in the future, sometimes simply as an assignment, sometimes more profound, as a memorial act for their school’s anniversary. According to the definition above from the Oxford Dictionary of English, such narratives produced through lettering, are aimed for a (re)discovery.

Indeed, the final stage of the process gives the narratives a chance to be told again, to be reinterpreted one more time by their own authors. In popular media, the hype around this uncovering stage is prevalent in cases such as Bruce Farrer—a teacher who has been tracking down his students, all over the world, to send them letters they wrote 20 years before. In the linked video, delivered letters are recited aloud, usually accompanied with an unexpected “emotional roller coaster.” These (re)discoveries of narrative create a platform for audience, in which they self-reflect on their own former lives, and then reinterpret them through the eyes of the present.

The act of (re)discovery, however, does not just include school assignment as student letters from years ago. Time capsule also has included landmark memorial acts in human history. On July 11, 1969, Apollo 11 took flight to the moon. “That’s one small step for man, one giant leap for mankind.” But Armstrong’s very first step was not the only thing left behind on the moon, a small silicone disc, containing goodwill messages of leaders from 73 countries around the world, is also there. My inner archivist takes over when I find out Prime Minister Trudeau’s words in NASA document of the disc:

Even though the messages were disclosed immediately, the process of (re)discovery still had an important role of self-reflection, as it expressed “hope for peace to all nations of the world.” Narratives in this case, are collected as official voices from countries to celebrate a milestone achievement of mankind. “The Silicon disc represents a historic time when many nations looked beyond their differences to come together to achieve this historic first.” Charlie Duke, Apollo 16 moonwalker commented.

Narratives in the above instances are fragmented through temporal space (20 years or so) or geographical boundaries (73 countries, planet Earth and the moon). But at end through different approaches, the stories united to be (re)discovered.

I just wish that Sarah, as marginalized as she was, when being re-membered (from the dismembered state) would receive the same compassion as if she were sitting there, reading out loud her dust-covered letters to Maggie, giggling.

“Out of your smiles will bloom a flower

 and those who love you 

will behold you across 

ten thousand worlds of birth and dying.”

Thich Nhat Hanh

Engraved in a Catholic cemetery located in Pattaya, Thailand, there are words in memory of a tragic accident occurred during the Operation Babylift. At the end of the Vietnam War in 1975, the operation was employed by the US government in order to evacuate orphanage children from South Vietnam to the States and its allies (Canada, Australia, etc.). Even though the act was considered as “an heroic humanitarian effort” (Bergquist 622) that brought 2500-3000 children out of the war-torn country in 23 days, many criticisms arose due to the fact that not all of the rescued children are orphans, or abandoned by their parents. Not totally for the sake of the children’s, rather the evacuation was the States’ last political move to “give Americans a positive spin on its role in the war”, or as Gloria Emerson characterized it as a “successful propaganda effort”. A Yale psychologist, Edward Zigler (1976), investigated even further, ‘We’ve been ripping [the children] right out of their culture, their community.’

While reading about the operation, my mind immediately drew a connection between the “lifted babies” and Sarah from “Missing Sarah” (Maggie de Vries). Both were displaced children, somehow “ripped out” of their culture roots. In the case of Sarah, she grew up surrounded with an aching awareness that she is different, at the same time facing racism in the outside world. Nevertheless, at home she encountered a vague but yet haunting feeling of not “fitting in” right in her own adoptee family, among her loving brothers and sister. At least Sarah’s childhood experience was well documented through journals, letters and drawings. Such narratives were produced not only to exchange information as it was meant to originally, they now also provide readers with a whole new perspective into those lives on the margins. Sarah had her chance to speak with us, even though late, still it has an impactful meaning to transcend the untold.

How about the lifted babies and their untold stories? How were they then and how are they now? Were their narratives even recorded not to mention published? Do they have a chance to speak at all? Many questions and controversies emerged from Operation Babylift still echo up to now. While the 40th anniversary of the end of the Vietnam War is coming soon (1975-2015), I observe that the (mostly state-controlled) press has not been mentioning Operation Babylift with the same attention and direction as they should. They frame (Couser) the babies, as silent, not grieveable even? (Jiwani & Young).

But put all the negativity discussed aside, I still believe that those who love them will behold them across ten thousand worlds of birth and dying.

On April 4th 1975, “A major U.S. airlift of South Vietnamese orphans begins with disaster when an Air Force cargo jet crashes shortly after departing from Tan Son Nhut airbase in Saigon. More than 138 passengers, mostly children, were killed.”