By Yi Ling
From the moment he was born, Shaodian was extraordinary. On the last day of October 2008, tension gripped a hospital delivery room in Toronto. Doctors and nurses moved briskly in and out, their faces strained as they awaited the birth of a baby. Lying on the delivery bed was Wan Li, the head of a Canadian branch of an international media outlet. It was her second child, already a week past due. That morning, doctors had induced labor, but by 5 p.m., the baby had still not arrived.
Suddenly, the fetal heart rate plummeted from 150 beats per minute to below 50 — a clear sign of oxygen deprivation. The situation was critical; the baby had to be delivered immediately. After frantic efforts, a boy was finally born — blue, motionless, with his tiny hand clutching his own umbilical cord. He had no heartbeat, no breath.
Emergency resuscitation began at once. Moments later, a faint cry broke the tension as the room erupted in relief — the baby had survived a battle between life and death. Exhausted after a full day of labor, Wan Li looked at her newborn son — pink, delicate, with bright eyes darting around. Her heart swelled with gratitude and joy.
From then on, laughter filled their home. Shaodian grew quickly, his long lashes and sunny smile captivating everyone. He was a beautiful child, loved by his parents and older sister.
A letter that changed everything
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By the time Shaodian turned four, Wan Li began noticing differences. Other children his age chattered freely, but her son struggled to speak clearly. His words came slowly and often got stuck mid-sentence. She brushed it off, thinking he just needed more time.
When he entered elementary school, Shaodian remained a gentle and obedient child — but his language and learning challenges became more apparent. He couldn’t express himself smoothly or stay focused, and his grades lagged behind.
One day, the school principal and teacher called Wan Li in for a meeting. They suggested that her son might have mild autism and recommended transferring him to a special education school. Modern medicine attributes autism to congenital brain abnormalities that cause developmental disorders affecting communication, social interaction, and behavior.
Wan Li refused to accept the school’s recommendation. She believed every child bloomed in their own time. “He’s just a late bloomer,” she thought. “Like a seed that flowers later than others. As long as he’s good inside, his time will come.”
But reality struck hard in third grade when she received a letter from the school. It stated that students would be taking the provincial EQAO standardized test the next day — and that her son should stay home, as his scores might hurt the school’s ranking.
The letter felt like a thunderclap. Wan Li was stunned. “How can they do this? Isn’t this discrimination?” she thought. The next morning, as usual, Shaodian stood by the door with his backpack, waiting to go to school. His father gently told him, “You don’t have to go to school today.”
“Why, Dad?” the boy asked. “Because today there’s a special exam,” his father said softly. “Only the best, kindest, and most obedient students don’t need to take it. And you are that student.”
The boy’s face lit up. “Really, Dad? Really?” “Yes,” his father smiled. Overjoyed, the boy skipped away to play inside. Listening to this exchange, Wan Li couldn’t hold back her tears. She wept the entire day, haunted by her son’s innocent eyes and that bittersweet conversation. That moment shattered her denial, recalled the mother. She finally recognized the seriousness of her son’s condition and began to worry deeply about his future.
The weight of isolation
Soon after, Wan Li made a major decision — to move. In 2017, she sold their house in Toronto’s affluent area and relocated to the small town of Uxbridge, northeast of the city, hoping for a gentler environment.
But school life there wasn’t easy either. Kind and introverted, Shaodian often became a target for bullying. Sometimes his mother received calls from teachers asking her to bring fresh clothes because he had been pushed into puddles. Other times, he came home reeking of urine after classmates humiliated him.
A devoted Falun Gong practitioner since 1996, Wan Li found strength in her faith during these years of hardship. She taught her son Falun Gong’s teachings from “Zhuan Falun,” reading aloud with him line by line despite his difficulties.
While his father encouraged him to fight back, Wan Li taught him tolerance: “When others bully you, they give you virtue and take away your bad karma.” Though her son didn’t fully understand, he absorbed her kindness.
Teachers often told Wan Li, “Your son is a very good boy — so sweet and helpful. He’s always assisting classmates and teachers, but his grades aren’t good.” Each time, she was speechless. How could she force her child to be different? The worry over his future weighed constantly on her heart.
Applying to Fei Tian Academy of the Arts
When Shaodian graduated from eighth grade, he received the “Most Helpful Student” award, while others won academic honors. His family cheered just as proudly. Though he struggled academically, he excelled athletically — in taekwondo, swimming, and basketball — and his coaches saw great potential.
He also loved Shen Yun performances. “When I grow up, I want to join Shen Yun,” he told his mother. As high school approached, Wan Li asked him, “Do you want to go to Shen Yun?” “Yes, very much,” he replied. They soon applied to Fei Tian Academy of the Arts. At his 2022 interview, when asked why he wanted to attend, he answered, “To help Master in Fa-rectification.” The examiner smiled and said, “Remember what you said today.”
He was accepted. As he filled out his forms, he wept with emotion. That night, heavy rain fell as teachers welcomed him to campus. The boy who once clung to his mother walked off joyfully, forgetting even to say goodbye.
Transformation
Three months later, when Wan Li visited him, she barely recognized her son. He had lost 20 pounds, his skin glowed, his posture was tall and confident. He looked like a professional dancer. Back at the hotel, he said, “Mom, can we study ‘Zhuan Falun; before going out?” He then opened the traditional Chinese edition and read fluently — something he’d never been able to do before.
Wan Li was astonished. “Son, your Chinese has improved so much!” He smiled. “Mom, did you notice?” “Yes, I’m so proud of you,” she said tearfully. “This is a miracle.”
From then on, his progress accelerated. His language skills improved, and he began discussing cultivation concepts like “improving xinxing” and “letting go of attachments.” He learned to look inward instead of blaming others, to cultivate patience, humility, and compassion. Once a timid boy, he became a class leader and role model.
His mother’s worries melted away. Half a year ago, he called her and said, “Mom, I finally understand what Master says now. I just wish I had understood sooner.”
Today, Shaodian is a second-year student at Fei Tian Academy and an apprentice performer with Shen Yun, currently touring with the company. “My son’s transformation is nothing short of miraculous,” Wan Li said. “I am endlessly grateful to Shen Yun and Fei Tian.”
Recently, “The New York Times” published a series attacking Falun Gong, its founder, and Shen Yun. Wan Li was stunned. Sharing her story, she posed a question: “Who would ever use their own child as an experiment?”
She offered three points in response:
1. Environment
“Regardless of belief or background, every parent wants their child to grow up healthy and happy,” she said. “No mother would ever send her child into an unsafe or harmful environment. Before choosing any school, parents always research and ensure trust. This is common sense.”
Before Fei Tian, her son struggled socially and emotionally. After joining, he thrived in a kind, supportive, and positive atmosphere that nurtured both body and mind. “He’s happier, more confident, and learning faster. As a mother, that brings me immense peace,” she said.
Wan Li added that “The New York Times” distorted Shen Yun’s value. “In a time when art has declined, Shen Yun stands out for reviving traditional beauty and virtue. My son is living proof of its positive impact.”
2. Compensation
Responding to claims that Shen Yun underpays student performers, Wan Li explained that in any professional arts school, parents typically pay around $100,000 annually for tuition, housing, and related costs — and internships never pay salaries.
“But at Fei Tian and Shen Yun,” she said, “parents pay nothing — not for tuition, lodging, or costumes — and students even receive a stipend. They gain world-class training and global experience. No other arts academy offers this.”
3. Security
Wan Li also addressed concerns about campus security. “For boarding schools in the U.S., safety is always paramount — especially for minors. Fei Tian’s campus is responsibly managed, ensuring students’ protection,” she said.
Given the Chinese Communist Party’s ongoing persecution of Falun Gong — including sabotage and threats against Shen Yun — security is both essential and justified.
“For 25 years, the CCP has persecuted Falun Gong through slander, economic suppression, and even physical harm,” Wan Li said. “Now they’re exporting these tactics overseas through propaganda and legal warfare. But these are the last gasps of a dying regime — they won’t succeed.”
