Tag Archives: shenzhen identity

the more things change…

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I am currently reading Washington Square (Henry James) with students and had one of those “this time on steroids” moments. From the opening paragraph, “In a country in which, to play a social part, you must either earn your income or make believe that you earn it, the healing art has appeared in a high degree to combine two recognised sources of credit. It belongs to the realm of the practical, which in the United States is a great recommendation; and it is touched by the light of science–a merit appreciated in a community in which the love of knowledge has not always been accompanied by leisure and opportunity.” It’s Shenzhen. Only in contrast to 1840s NYC, in millennial Shenzhen, students are encouraged to learn math and become engineers or accountants, rather than doctors.

We know this story. Most migrants come to The City from poor rural farms to make their fortune, but they may also have come from less vibrant small towns; these migrants have created their world and are proud of what they have made; they believe in taking advantage of opportunity; they believe themselves to be more forward-thinking than hometown people (and indeed they may actually be); they expect their children to do better.

In fact, folks in Shenzhen constantly remind me that the city is an immigrant city, but I often forget how similar its history is to NYC, albeit on steroids, 250 years later. Or London. Or Chicago. Or LA. Or Mumbai. The story of capitalist urbanization has been a story of the transformation of rural migrants into the urban proletariat and the expansion and relative enrichment of the capitalist class – wealth sucks up, even if there’s more stuff and fewer trees than there once were. Just the other day, an American passing through Shenzhen told me that what America needed was an infusion of good ole fashioned immigrant hunger. “Just look,” he said pointing out at Shenzhen, “how well it’s working here.”

In the Eighteenth Brumaire Marx notes, “Hegel remarks somewhere that all great world-historic facts and personages appear, so to speak, twice. He forgot to add: the first time as tragedy, the second time as farce.”

And there’s the rub. Now that we’re well beyond farce, what do we call global urbanization?

the 2011 universiade

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This year, Shenzhen hosts the 2011 Summer Universiade, which I gather (from the FISU website) is olympics for college students. The 2011 Winter Universiade is being held in Erzurum, Turkey from 27 Jan – 6 Feb, 2011.

As I gear up for a year of college athletics hype, I have two brief comments and a question.

First, the Erzurum and Shenzhen websites are remarkably similar, including countdown, strange anime mascots, and news about the city. So thinking that yes, boosterism fuels this Universiade business as much as joy in youthful athletics.

Second, I had no idea about the Universiade until I left the United States because we have college sports, which are linked to University boosterism; at this level of competition, US Americans cheer for our school rather than our country.

Third, is Erzurum an up and coming Turkish city? In other words, is Erzurum using the Universiade to do what Shenzhen is doing, i.e, using an international collegiate sporting event to assert the city’s international status because the “real” international events (Olympics, World Expo, and Asian Games) went to other cities (Beijing, Shanghai, and Guangzhou, respectively)? And if so, might this mean that the intended audience of the Erzurum Games, like the Shenzhen Games, is actually the local population. “See residents,” the government is saying, “we’re as global as the country’s first-ranking cities.” Please advise.

public intellectual moi

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Last night had a pleasant if strange experience as a guest on a live talk show on Shenzhen’s traffic radio station. The station usually plays music and gives traffic updates. They also collaborate with the Municipality to organize discussions relevant to folks stuck in traffic. Indeed, as one of the other guests said, “If Beijing is 首堵 (都) [“the first in congestion” (puns “the capitol”)], then Shenzhen is deeply, deeply congested [深深堵].” Last night’s topic was “宜居城市 (Livable City),” but focused on how to ameliorate Shenzhen’s traffic jams as if the problem wasn’t our addiction to oil, but organizing highways. My favorite comment – Shenzhen needs to initiate “vehicle family planning (汽车计划生育)”.

I was invited to give a foreign perspective on Shenzhen’s worsening traffic problems. Uncanny moment this invitation. I was born in L.A., Mother of all Traffic Jams and once out of the Jersey ‘burbs, I have tried to live in cities where I don’t need to drive. My advise to Chinese urban planners? See what L.A. and Houston have done and do the opposite. If you’re looking for a positive urban role model – Amsterdam and Copenhagen have much to teach the world about healthy, sustainable traffic planning. But the US? We dismantled our nascent public transportation system, use 1/4 of the world’s energy resources, and won’t consider even gutted treaties to limit greenhouse gas emissions. No no and no.

The 1.5 hour event was held at the Central Book City, South Building Bleachers, where many of the City’s public culture events are held. The Bleachers are used for reading, resting, and hanging out. In fact, the Bleachers are one of the few spaces in the Central Book City Mall where people can sit and rest without purchasing a refreshment. The Book City Bleachers has become an interesting space in Shenzhen’s public sphere because it is (literally) situated between the City [government] and high culture consumption [Book City]. Consequently, events held there have a certain public intellectual cache, linking official approval to intellectual life and cultural performance. However, lest we forget the importance of [positive] audience reception, last night, the Bleachers are cordoned off and access regulated by strategically placed organizers. We performed for about thirty, red vested members of Shenzhen Volunteers and invited guests, including the parents of first or second graders who read a pledge to be more traffic conscious.

Inquiring minds want to know, “Who was there?” and “What does this tell us about how Shenzheners represent themselves to themselves?” In other words, “Who do Shenzheners think they are?”

Well.

Of the six guests, I was the only woman. I’m not sure if this means that my foreign status compensates for ovaries or if they couldn’t find a suitable female urban planner (although off hand, I can think of several women who would have added interesting commentary). Gender aside, guests included: a public intellectual, the head of an urban planning think tank, a member of the Livable City subcommittee of the SPPCC (Shenzhen People’s Political Consultative Committee), an editor from an online community of home owners, the radio station commentator, and a foreigner. Importantly, guests shared “representative” status. In other words, organized selected a guest because he (and moi) represented a constituency of Shenzheners. Moreover, this representative status meant that the guests could “speak for” (all) Shenzheners.”

Thus described, the right to speak in Shenzhen’s public sphere is dominated by intellectuals, officials, homeowners, and what white America thinks.

Now, it’s possible we knew this. It’s also possible some of us said something slightly beyond the script and inspired a new thought somewhere – because yes, there was a script. Before the talk, we were contacted and asked what we wanted to say about making the city livable. Our comments were then edited into a basic outline of how the discussion would go. Moreover, the moderators kept us more or less on task, talking about how to ameliorate traffic jams (better urban planning and more driving civility). And maybe it’s possible that modeling public discussion in this way (town meetings with Chinese characteristics) will prompt the creation of alternative and equally influential public spaces. For example, yesterday afternoon, The Southern Daily held it’s first Neighborhood Heroes Finals (家园英雄) in Meilin. Clearly, a source of other perspectives on traffic jams.

But I think it’s also possible that we’re missing something more fundamental – foundational, if you will: how we organize our events may be why problems deepen, our good intentions notwithstanding.

why text messages?

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As the Christmas decorations have been quickly swept away, Shenzhen has entered Chinese New Year mode. Rabbits are popping up everywhere and every type of text message from year in review to greetings are already circulating. On this blog, I have translated text messages because they provide insight into what my Chinese friends feel is worthwhile (funny, insightful, urgent) commentary on society. Indeed, text message culture (短信文化) has been an important factor in many recent social movements (2006, 2007, 2008, and 2009). Indeed, many speculated that the 2010 crackdown on text-porn was a not-so-subtle attempt to tighten censorship controls.

However, simply describing the effects of texting in Chinese cities overlooks an important question: why is texting so popular? Walk down a Shenzhen street and look into hair salons and dress shops, restaurants and convenience stores, any beautician, salesgirl, waiter, and clerk who is not serving a customer is reading or sending a text. On buses and the subway, in cars and yes, in classrooms and business meetings, movie theaters and restrooms, people are texting. Every Chinese New Year the country sets another world record for texts sent for a holiday.

I don’t understand the allure of texting. In part it’s generational; in high school, our thing were three-hour telephone calls. I still enjoy telephone conversations and really enjoy watching the antics of my nieces and nephews when we skype. In part, it’s skill; I do talk faster then I type in English or Chinese. But that’s not all of it. Chinese friends my age have readily adopted texting and regularly send me all sorts of messages. Indeed, setting up a date may involve a series of texts, rather than a phone call. And although part of the allure may be cost – it’s cheap cheap cheap to text – price doesn’t explain why many Chinese not only text, but also purchase services that allow them to text internationally. In other words, folks in Shenzhen are choosing to text more frequently and regularly than I would; indeed, they text in situations that I would either phone, or, frankly not bother. Indeed, in situations where I find texting intrusive, my friends cheerfully read and respond to a text.

And so here’s some cross-cultural speculation du jour: texting has enabled Chinese people to intensify a cultural preference to be in contact with people they care about and it is that moment of contact that is the true message. This desire to be together explains why it is socially necessary to apologize for not seeing a text message and responding immediately. Moreover, I suspect that text messages can grow into social movements precisely because they carry this underlying desire to be [stand] together. In this sense, text messages function as a constant assurance that a relationship is important. Chinese texters confirm this highly desired and desirable sense of solidarity by responding properly to a message. Sometimes that response is texting a smile, sometimes it is going to the restaurant, sometimes it is taking to the street to protest.

As with all speculation about how technology makes, unmakes, and restructures social relationships, the next question is how much quality time is necessary to keep the emotive message of texts resonant. What happens when relationships dissolve into nothing more than text messages? And how much text message-span really is enough to prompt some kind of counter apps? In the meantime, I’m reviewing lists of possible New Year’s messages to choose my contribution to the deluge.

新春佳节不送礼，发条短信祝福你，健康快乐常伴你，好运和你不分离，财神已经跟随你，财源滚滚进袋里，好处全都送给你！(I’m not sending a gift for Spring Festival, I’m sending a text to bless you. May you be healthy and happy. May luck stay with you. May the God of Wealth already accompany you and wealth roll into your pockets. May all good things be given to you!)

my hope for the new year

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Originally uploaded by maryannodonnell

I have been thinking about the contradictions that shape human lives and how, in turn, those lives are the environment for others – human, animal, vegetable, and mineral.

SZCAT, a part of China’s Animal Lovers Net dedicated to saving feral urban cats announced that on December 26, 2010, a group of animal protectors (as they call themselves) discovered an illegal slaughterhouse and reported it to the Yanshi police as part of a rescue mission in a Hakka area where yes, I ate stewed cat and dog (separate dishes) several years ago.

The Nanfang Daily report on the rescue called it “Stealing Dogs Movement”, emphasizing the human cost of taking the animals. The animal protectors went in to rescue the animals and the local police destroyed several of the shanties that made up the slaughter house. However, as the volunteers were trying to get the animals to safety, many of the residents in the area stopped them because these animals were their livelihood. As a result, the police ended up negotiating a compromise – the volunteers could leave with the animals they already saved, and the rest would be left with their owners, who no longer had a way of processing them.

The results of this negotiation pleased no one. For their part, the migrant workers who make their precarious living by slaughtering and preparing traditional cat and dog dishes took a huge economic hit at the time of the year when they most need to save money for the upcoming Spring Festival. On the other hand, the volunteers felt that inhuman misuse of cats and dogs would continue without any intervention or “respect for law”.

I’m not sure how to think about this situation because I’m sad for all involved. Clearly, migrant workers in Shenzhen resort to all sorts of grayish means to earn a living not only for themselves, but also to support family back in neidi. At the same time, the raising and slaughtering of animals for human consumption is itself the cause of much, unnecessary suffering and inequality; not only do stock animals suffer, but raising cows and pigs and fish and chickens on industrialized ranches and farms damages the environment for other creatures (including humans).

My hope for the New Year is that we find ways of resolving these contradictions in inclusive ways. As long as we frame the debate as a choice between “save the pets” and “save the migrant workers,” we fail to see how all lives – not just the ones we like or agree with or are proud of or believe to be right, but all lives matter and matter beautifully.

Happy, happy 2011. Prosper.

In the Name of Shenzhen Bay

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The Shenzhen Bay Fringe Festival begins on Saturday, December 4 at 3 pm with a three-hour parade. The parade route spans from the Poly Theatre in the east to the Wenxin Park Plaza in the west (behind the Nanshan Book City). Should be fun. Also, please note that during workdays, most performances and screenings will take place from 7:30 on.

For Fat Birders, there will be two outdoor performances. The short playAnimals in Motion: Flashing Animals (动物在行动之”快闪动物”) shows on Sunday, December 5 at 4 p.m. on the Shenzhen Bay walk. The second is an ongoing performance piece (5-11 Dec) – Animals in Motion: One Cat, Six Days (动物在行动之”一猫六日”) that takes place throughout Coastal City.

In the meantime, in the spirit of the hopeful creativity, I’m posting a translation of Yang Qian’s thoughts on the Fringe; the Chinese original follows.

In the name of Shenzhen Bay
Yang Qian

During the Pliocene Epoch, over 5,300,000 years ago, black-faced spoonbills already took refuge in the mangrove forrest that grew in the deep and tranquil swamps of Shenzhen Bay. Over the past few decades, the ongoing reduction of the wetlands necessary to their survival, the increasing smog of their skies, the beautiful neighborhoods incesently clammering on their coast, towering glass skyscrapers and the shocking honks of traffic have made it nearly impossible for them to nest and breed here. Nevertheless, spoonbills continue – now as before – to take wing at sunrise and return to their nests at dusk. Like a group of society-forsaking hermits, their hidden but unhurried observation bears witness to and records each and every human action.

The nine days from December 4 to 12, 2010 may bring a sense of prosperity to the human residents of Shenzhen Bay because this is where the first Shenzhen Bay International Fringe Festival is being held. These days, it is more and more difficult to find situations which might be described as prosperous, nevertheless I feel that for this arts festival, we can boast a little.

The first Fringe Festival was held in Edinburg in 1947. It’s purpose was to celebrate and generate conversations about alternative theatre. Today, the Edinburg Fringe remains the world’s most famous and largest Fringe Festival. The word “fringe” refers to the decorative edge of a garment, consisting of hanging threads or cords. In the context of the arts it refers to art that is non-official, alternative, and non-commercial. Throughout the world, many countries and regions have their own Fringe, when residents get crazy happy and artists flaunt their brilliance and creativity.

During the first Shenzhen Bay International Fringe Festival, several tens of thousands of people will participate in the arts parade, independent films will be shown, cutting edge music and theatre will be performed, and performance artists and animal protection supporters will protest animal cruelty. The organizing principals of all this celebratory play are collective participation and individual creativity, equal dialogue and free expression.

In addition, I hope that people will be pleasently surprised to discover that the arts may change one’s habitual understanding of “ecological geography”. The first Shenzhen Bay International Fringe Festival takes place at Coastal City and the surrounding area. For the past three years, this luxury shopping mall has been the destination of upscale consumors. However, during the Fringe, the focus is not anxiously desired namebrand goods, even as the conversation is not about getting a good deal. In an era of ascending consumerism, securing a free space is a battle of life and death. In contrast, during the Fringe business defers to the people, and if even for a few days, this breathing space is the kind of prosperity worth lauding.

Finally, I cannot but comment that in practice the themes of this year’s Fringe – environmental conservation, low carbon life styles, and ecological safety – are but impotent and empty talk.

To understand the scale of Shenzhen’s environmental transformation, the most direct method is to visit the NASA website and download satelite photos of the Nantou Peninsula. From 1997 to 2002, in the short span of five years, the area of the peninsula doubled in size. What was the corresponding increase in population? How much arable land was eliminated? How many wild animals and plants were lost? Who knows the answers to these questions? More to the point, who can tell us what the short and long term cumulative effects of industrialization are and will be?

Presently, the phrases “environmental protection,” “low carbon lifestyle,” and “ecological safety” are on everyone’s lips. However, when we say one thing and do another, even putting the rights, safety, and protection of consumers above those of our world, then of course we become even more hypocritical and destructive.

A sense of prosperty flourishes when we face the world with dreams and hope and live with respect and freedom. It does not grow ignoring and fearing painful and lingering death – of ourselves or of the natural world. The most valuable aspect of the Shenzhen Bay Fringe is that it provides us with an opportunity to reflect on the true meaning of prosperity. Whether or not a fringe festival celebrated in the name of Shenzhen Bay will maintain its honor and sence of well-being is not simply dependent on Shenzhen’s GDP, but more importantly depends on the future condition of the Bay itself. If human beings act in the name of place and are to do so without shame, it must be done in such a way that also benefits black-faced spoonbills and painted snipes, spoiled and abandoned pets. May all that consitute the Shenzhen Bay prosper!

以深圳湾之名 杨阡

在深圳湾僻静幽深的泥沼里，530万年前的上新世也许就已经存在的黑脸琵鹭藏身红树林间。尽管最近的几十年里，它赖以生存的水面越来越小，尽管它鼓翼飞翔的天空越来越朦胧，尽管漂亮的邻居彩鹬一直抱怨岸边，高耸的镜子和震天的喇叭让它无法安心养育雏鸟。黑脸琵鹭还是一如既往地凌晨起飞，黄昏归巢。犹如离群索居的隐士，躲避着人群又从容不迫地观察着、记录着人类的一举一动。

2010年12月4日到12日这九天，对生活在深圳湾周围的人或许是幸福的日子，因为这里将举办首届“深圳湾国际艺穗节”。幸福这个词在今天越来越难得有用得上的地方了。但这个艺术节，我觉得多少值得这么自夸。

世界上首次“艺穗节”（Fringe Festival）是1947年在英国的爱丁堡举办的，主要是边缘戏剧表演和交流的艺术节。至今爱丁堡戏剧节仍是世界上最享有盛誉的也是规模最大的“艺穗节”。艺穗的“穗”（Fringe）原意是指我们穿的衣服，戴的围巾周围作为装饰的穗子。引申到艺术活动就有了非官方、非主流、非商业的含义。如今世界上已经有许多国家和地区拥有自己的艺穗节。这是个民众狂欢和艺术家自由展示才华与创造的节日。

在首届“深圳湾国际艺穗节”期间，将有几万人组成的艺术巡游，有独立电影的播放，有先锋音乐和戏剧的表演，有行为艺术家和动物保护主义者对环境破坏和动物虐待发出的抗议行动等等。公共参与和个体创造，平等对话和自由抒发是这个节日的游戏规则。

除此之外，我希望人们能惊喜地发现，艺术活动其实可以改变自己习惯的“生存地理学”概念。首届“深圳湾国际艺穗节”的主场地是深圳海岸城及其周边地区。这座奢华的shopping mall建成三年来一直用高档消费主导着大众周末和平日的消遣。但是由于艺术节，那些让人望而生畏的品牌将不再是焦点，压抑的标价也不再是谈话的核心。在消费主义盛行的时代，夺回自由空间是一场生死攸关的战斗。欢呼生意向民意低头，哪怕只有短短的几天时间，这也是值得夸耀的幸福。

最后我不得不说说这届艺术节的主题——“环保”、“低碳生活”和“生态安全”——在具体的现实面前是多么无力与苍白。

如果想了解深圳的环境发生了多大改变，最直观的办法就是上美国国家航天局（NASA）的网站，下载南头半岛的卫星照片。事实上从1997年2002年仅短短的五年里，南头半岛的面积几乎膨胀了一倍。那么同样的时间人口膨胀了多少？汽车增加了多少？耕地和湿地减少了多少？野生动植物损失了多少？谁能告诉我们？更进一步，这些改变加在一起产生的近期和远期后果，谁又能告诉我们？

现在“环保”、“低碳生活”和“生态安全”正在流于口号和做作。因为这些动听的字眼在不作为的时候，甚至比提保护消费者权益还要安全、保险，当然就更加犬儒和恶俗。

幸福感产生于我们朝向梦想与希望而生的尊严和自由中，而不在逃避与屈从恐惧的苟延残喘里。艺穗节最大的价值在于提供了这个对幸福反省的机会。以深圳湾得名的艺穗节是否会延续自己的荣誉和福祉，不光仰赖深圳市GDP指数，也仰赖于深圳湾这片水域有怎样的未来。如果我们人类用一个大地的名字荣耀自己而无愧疚的话，那么让黑脸琵鹭、彩鹬还有那些关在宠物店或流浪在路上的猫狗也能分享吧！

wedding high…

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yesterday evening i enjoyed myself at a chinese wedding, really enjoyed myself in an almost american let’s dance and party at the reception kind of way. why is this worth noting?

other shenzhen weddings that i have attended have been more formal, staging important relationships through explicit ritual. for example, the last wedding i attended included two sets of tables (bride and groom’s sides) for parents and elders, brothers and sisters and their families, including in-laws, bosses and colleagues, business associates, friends of parents and elders, friends of bride and groom. in short, a crystallization of the relationships – formal and emotional – that had made up the lives of the bride and groom. toasting (who went to which table to drink with whom) allowed guests to formally acknowledge these relationships even as they deepened the affection both for the couple and between guests. importantly, monetary gifts to the bride and groom were correspondingly classified with the closer and higher ranking guests giving more and the more distant and lower-ranking giving less.

(so yes, i always ask a knowledgeable friend how much i should put in a red envelop before i go to wedding. and yes, i am as frequently told, “put in what you feel.” to which i reply, “i don’t know what i’m supposed to feel.” my ignorance about the monetary expression of my feeling occurs because giving either too much or not enough means i have misinterpretted the nature of my relationship with either the bride or groom and thus can lead to awkwardness, misunderstanding, and even hurt feelings. sigh.)

slight detour through my anxieties aside, the point is that yesterday’s wedding had a much stronger emphasis on being happy than on making social relationships explicit. yes, parents and grandparents came and yes, bosses and colleagues showed, but the majority of the guests were friends of the bride and groom, who as generation 80 kids were only children (thus no siblings and all those relationships), as under-30 years of age not very well established socially (thus not many business associates), and also most had grown up in Shenzhen with party habits. moreover, the bride is young, almost generation 80 young and so many of her friends did come to party.

perhaps more importantly to the general high high high of the evening, the bride and groom were theatre people. this meant that when a guest stood up to congratulate the couple, it was a performance and not the usual blah blah of more formal weddings. there were solo songs, chair dances, a cross-talk routine, a magic show, humorous impromptu speeches, and videos that spoofed the happy couple in a good natured way. indeed, even throwing the bouquet became a chance for telling jokes and performing; the group was on in the most satisfying way.

wonderful.

Advertizing and the Shenzhen Soul

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DSCF0704

Originally uploaded by maryannodonnell

The elevators in my building have three walls dedicated to advertizing; the fourth wall, so to speak, is a door. These advertisements change every week. What’s more, the advertisements in each of the three elevators are different. This means that every week, I encountered nine different sales pitches for appliances, cars, cultural events, family phone plans, and beauty makeovers. In short, the walls of my elevator promote a constantly changing version of the good home life, which is presumably affordable to those who live here – the catch is to make these life purchases desirable.

One of the latest advertisements for a beauty makeover claims to be able to remove all traces of acne and pimples. This advertisement disturbs me because its intended audience is Generation 90, teenagers who in addition are under the stress of the gaokao are being told they have no place to hide themselves and feel safe from prying eyes. Given the fact that most adults only notice a teenager when said teenager has blundered, the feeling of an ostrich unable to safely hide its head in the sand is probably spot on, if you’ll forgive the pun.

In English, I have understood the expression “to hide one’s head in the sand” to mean something like “avoid reality” or “avoid the consequences of my actions”. For me, being an ostrich has implied a kind of cowardice and a reluctance to take responsibility. In contrast, this advertisement focuses on being exposed – warts and all – to the gaze of others. In other words, the Mandarin interpretation of “to hide one’s head in the sand” focuses on a response to feeling ashamed – hide one’s face.

In other posts, I have spoken of the difference between lian (face as a metaphor for ethical sensibility) and mianzi (face as a metaphor for prestige and social power), what I hadn’t seen at the time was the way in which the emotional impact of these metaphors is cultivated through reference to actual faces. We effectively use shame to control the behaviors of others not only because we care about ethics, power, and other abstract values, but also because we have been taught to value some faces more than others and in the process become ashamed of our own.

Such is the cruelty of advertizing; it exploits cultural tropes for profit. More lamentably, when successful, the creative minds behind such symbolic manipulation are rewarded for their lack of lian by increased mianzi.

Sigh.

we’ve all done that…

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Generation 90, as the teens born after 1990 are known, are reputedly even less socially responsible than the little emperors of generation 80. Not unexpectedly, Shenzhen’s wealthy second generation (富二代) is considered one of the most materialistic and selfish (最功利最自私) in the country. They have all (and yes making absolute generalizations about these teens is a national passtime) bought and then neglected to death goldfish and hamsters and bunnies and turtles; they all engage in competitive consumption, throwing out cell phones and laptops and gameboys as soon as a new model comes out; they all disrespect grandparents, ignore their parents, and only listen to their teachers when they are forced to. As a parent summarized the situation, “There are so many children today with great test skills, but are morally bankrupt (今天的学生功课好，却是个混蛋).”

Like all hyperbole, the stereotypes about Generation 90 carry grains of explosive truth. Most obviously, these stereotypes refer to rich kids, not the children of working families and definitely not the children of migrant workers. The parents of generation 90 think and spend in terms of 10,000s of yuan and not 1,000s (the working class) or 100s (migrant workers). These are kids who only have to face the consequences of their actions should their parents choose not to buy a way out for them. The most egregious examples are all school related: how much parents have spent to get a child into a top school; how much parents have given to a child for getting top grades; how much parents have spent when a child has been caught breaking rules.

In a country where the gaokao structures opportunity, it is easy to understand the resentment that fuels Generation 90 stereotypes. Resentment is further enflamed by the fact that even if these teens don’t test into a famous university, their families can finance a second chance abroad. I also empathize with the nervousness that infuses Generation 90 stereotypes. After all, these teens will hold key positions in the new world order; they are being trained as the next generation of political, military, economic, and cultural leaders and their parents are working hard to make sure that in this new world order China has a strong and respected position.

And yet.

As a child of America’s postwar ascension, I share Generation 90’s conundrum. I was given puppies and hamsters, a top education, and access to key institutions. I was not only allowed, but also expected to make life choices based on desire and personal inclination, rather than on material necessity. My parents also worked hard to ensure that I would have opportunities to learn from, rather than be condemned for my mistakes. I don’t always like or agree with many of the decisions my students make, but I understand how difficult it is to unlearn privilege, especially when it doesn’t feel like anything but everyday life. Moreover, I realize that the wealth and prestige and opportunity that I inherited as part of GenX is the world that Generation 90 is struggling to overcome.

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Originally uploaded by maryannodonnell

have recently received the following message, both on phone and in email, so clearly it’s making the rounds. enjoy this take on national psychologies / international relations. note that the character “人” following a country (as in America people) signifies both people as individuals and people as a national group.

1、American power: I attack whoever I want (美國人的實力：想打誰，就打誰。)
2、Brittish power: I attack whoever America does (英國人的實力：美國打誰，我就打誰。)
3、French power: I attack whoever attacks me (法國人的實力：誰打我，我就打誰。)
4、Russian power: I attack whoever yells at me (俄羅斯的實力：誰罵我，我就打誰。)
5、Israeli power: I attack whoever might be thinking about attacking me (以色列的實力：誰心裡想打我，我就打誰。)
6、Japanese power: I have the US attack whoever is attacking me (日本人的實力：誰打我，我就讓美國打誰。)
7、Chinese power: I yell at whoever attacks me (中國人的實力：誰打我，我就罵誰.)
8、Taiwanese power: I have newspapers yell at whoever attacks me (台灣人的實力：誰打我，我就叫報紙罵誰。)
9、South Korean power: I join the US for military exercizes when I’m attacked (南韓人的實力：誰打我，我就和美國一塊演習。)
10、North Korean power: I attack South Korea whenever anyone displeases me (北朝鮮的實力：誰讓我心裡不痛快，我就打南韓。)

and yes, i am blogging by way of flickr. again.

and an fyi: the official schedule for the fringe festival will be available november 15.