chimerican geographies of opportunity and despair

This year I was in the Chinese northland during the first week of the Trump presidency, a fact which had me thinking about national geographies of opportunity and despair. (Honestly, how could I resist when we were celebrating the Year of the Cock?!) Of note? The pride and resentment, wellbeing and jealousy that I encountered in the Chinese interior resonated with my experience of the American heartland, where my parents were born, even as the valuation of Shenzhen and other southern cities seemed much like American valuations of  the progressive northeast, where I was raised.
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wishing you prosperity

100 rmb notes and US C notes go together like boy and girl, like modernity and tradition, like Mao Zedong and Benjamin Franklin, like officialdom (guanfang) and society (minjian), like yang and yin. I was thinking about how in Shenzhen du jour tradition is being (re)constituted through economic reform–specifically, I was thinking about how tradition has become the vehicle that naturalizes the demolition of (unnatural) urbanized villages in a city long described as “lacking history,” and this matched New Years set shows up on the entrance to my apartment building. As with many symbols of Chimerica, gender suggests the multiple forms of power that create particular subject positions, especially in the figuring of ideal relationships, where even if the male, head-of-house holds money that is ostensibly worth less than the female, nevertheless, in Chimerica East the primacy of renminbi makes sense (cents) precisely because “tradition” keeps us in place.

 

fairy lake botanical garden: naturalizing control

These past two days, Zhang Kaiqin led a Handshake 302 art workshop in the Shenzhen Fairy Lake Botanical Garden. The workshop was organized quite simply: on the first morning we learned about the plants and then in the afternoon and next day we created site-specific art. The only rule was that we couldn’t bring anything (except tools) into the botanical garden. And that limitation led to visceral experience of how narrow the actual space for creative subjectivity is in modern spaces.

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啃老: on millennial poverty

In 2010, when many of the 90s kids where applying for college, they were encouraged to become economically independent. Shame was also deployed, and recent college graduates who couldn’t find a job and continued to live at home were accused of “gnawing on the old folks (啃老)”. Of course, these were the same kids who were also accused of “being too rich for their own good (富二代)”. Continue reading

dinner plans

Here’s the thing, when making dinner plans–or dim sum plans or coffee plans or dinner plans–there are some neighbourhoods that are better than others.That said, its also clear that the consequences of village demolitions and ongoing construction of residential developments at subway stations include the replacement of independently owned restaurants with more expensive chains. This means that it is not only increasingly harder to afford just to go out, but it is increasingly difficult to find mom and pops places around the corner for a cheap night out. Sigh.

 

this year, christmas in dalang

 

When I was young, Christmas was a special time that started just after Thanksgiving. Indeed, in the month before Christmas there was much work. We made lists of presents for our parents, siblings, and friends. We went Christmas tree shopping and then spent an evening decorating the tree. Each decoration had a story. Each year I would make an angel or Christmas mouse for the tree and my mother had special lights. We practiced singing carols and made cookies, delighting in reindeer and elf shaped cookies. We watched the same classic movies (“Miracle on 42nd Street” and “It’s a Wonderful Life”) as well as the same TV specials (“Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer,” “Santa Claus is Coming to Town,” and “Frosty the Snowman.”) Several days before Christmas we went on vacation and if we were lucky and if it had snowed, we made snow people and snow angels, and then when we were cold and tired we had hot chocolate at a friend’s house. The night before Christmas we made a plate of refreshments for Santa Claus and even remembered to put out carrots for Rudolph. And then. On Christmas morning we woke up laughing to discover what presents Santa had left us and to feast and play all day. Even today, Christmas still sparkles in memory and I am happiest when I have a chance to go home and celebrate with family and friends. Continue reading

there are places like this in ohio, too

The contrasts between the inner and outer districts are not immediately apparent because they are not juxtaposed in space, but rather through time; you need to travel (at least an hour, more by public transportation) from center city to its outskirts in order to viscerally experience the lived differences between here and there. Indeed, most people don’t make the trip (unless they live in one of the new gated communities along the subway lines that transport young managers and clerks and secretary types to their offices, most likely in Futian, because close examination reveals all subway lines–especially the high-speed and direct lines–converge in the city’s center) and even then, most don’t venture beyond the lines and malls because, well, there’s no time (true) and less interest (all too true).

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be in but not of: hard practice

Hope takes work in the moment and grows through deep time. It is not over until all of us (including the screamers) are free from suffering; just as there is not one America, there is not one Hell, and certainly there is not just one apocalypse. If we look attentively we see how many lives in how many places are destroyed time and time again. The question facing each of us is: where can I work? What relationships, what changes allow me to help end suffering? And then we work, trusting that other bodhisattvas are also doing their hard practice in fields where we cannot, because (and this I believe) just as there is not one world, there is not one Paradise, and certainly there is not only one savior.  Continue reading

responding to american fascism

Meaningful dialogue it hurts because conversation needs two; everywhere we have refused each other. My mother and her friends prayed on the evening of the 8th, and anyone who joined them could have engaged. Unfortunately, if only one person shows up, it is a vigil, not a dialogue. And so maybe that’s our calling now: we show up. We show through our actions that we are willing to engage in peaceful, respectful dialogue. We will listen, and we will also be heard. Continue reading

today

I am sad, trying to figure out what can be done and what can help. Just after I learned that an admitted sexual predator and candidate endorsed by the KKK had won the US election, I had a meeting with my boss who told me that she would be recruiting a “higher quality of children” to participate in a public arts program. It seems that the children of migrant workers aren’t worth time and art and color.

When did the cruelty of the world swell up so high? It is possible that it has always been there (what is the greatness particular to the United States?) and I, white and middle class, well educated and joyful in the life of the mind and ever willing to find relief in a book avoided it. Or have we changed through all this privatization and a willingness to abandon the least among us because “that’s the way of the world” and so we turn our backs on water protectors and align ourselves with predators as if it would bring us home to safety?

I feel forlorn, distraught by this current celebration of anger that is not righteous but petty, and the abandoned children. We fail them regularly, both here and there, intentionally, too, but more likely simply because we are tired and compelled by fears of another abandonment. What if this is the best we can do? How might we extricate ourselves from wars that we started over oil? And yes Obama has been an elegant, beautiful president, and yes, Hillary Clinton fought with dignity against a small minded bully, but we’re still in Afghanistan and Standing Rock, and the Syrians are still without the security of permanent homes, while most Americans can’t afford healthcare; today, it seems we may be hunkering down for a protracted civil war.

Today, may each of us find ease, and may we cultivate the strength to shine despite and within and throughout our lives.