The young girl looks up from her work, pausing for a second, taking a look around herself. The factory is crowded, full of young girls and boys, all hard at work. Some assembling little boxes, others drawing basic patterns on the same little boxes. They do not know what the boxes will contain, none of them have a clue, but they all know that these boxes will contain foreign objects, and they will go to foreign countries. It will say that they are made in China, and they know this because they are Chinese, they are in China and they are making these boxes.
Or will it really say “Made in China”? She feels an old anger well up inside, boiling from the pit of her stomach, growing in strength until she feels like she needs to vomit. She suppresses the reflex, noticing that she has hunched slightly, and looks around her in panic to see if anyone noticed that she has stopped assembling her boxes. No one has noticed, no one else has stopped. No supervisor is currently looming over