From the PRC’s official law on gun regulation: (中华人民共和国枪支管理法)

国家严格管制枪支。禁止任何单位或者个人违反法律规定持有、制造（包括变造、装配）、买卖、运输、出租、出借枪支。

The country strictly regulates firearms— an individual is in violation of the law if he or she possesses, manufactures (including alteration and assembly) trades, transports, rents, or lends a firearm.

I guess this little guy missed the memo 😉

First ladies rock the socks off countries. Eleanor Roosevelt, Jackie Kennedy, Hillary Clinton, and Michelle Obama go down in history not for silent poise but for their relentless voice. As China welcomes a new president to lead the country through problems of poverty, pollution, and corruption, you may struggle to conjure up the face of the man who now governs almost 1.6 billion people, not to mention his wife’s. Ironically, most people first knew of President Xi Jinping as “the husband of that famous singer”, Peng Liyuan. China’s first lady just happens to be one of the most respected folk singers of her time, and undoubtedly one of the most well-known vocalists in Chinese history.

Peng first gained recognition from her performances on CCTV’s New Year’s Gala, where she almost always sang the finale, ending the show on a high note. She joined the People’s Liberation Army (PLA) vocal troop in 1980 when she was only 18— a prestigious position for any talented artist looking for a secure opportunity to develop a long-term career in the arts. Peng is often categorized as a “folk” singer to the extent that she sings about ethnic or rural Chinese themes, tuning in to the sentiments of rural citizens. She is highly respected by the Chinese populace, and is currently president of the Chinese People’s Liberation Army Institute of the Arts, one of the country’s top art universities.

President Xi and Peng Liyuan have been married for over 25 years.

This year, Peng chose to step out of the limelight as first lady and opted not to perform at the annual New Year’s Gala. As her husband trudges onto the diplomatic battlefield, Peng appears to be carving a political road for herself as well, recently joining the 11th National Committee of the Chinese People’s Political Consultative Conference. Still, it is Peng’s grand presence on stage that has won the hearts of families nationwide and forged a bond with citizens that may potentially shield the couple from political criticism later on.

This past week we took a few days off from class and ventured to Xi’an (西安), a 13 hour train ride west of Beijing. Most people recognize this city for its Terracotta Army (兵马俑), an array of stone soldiers and horses built for the first Qin emperor of China around 200 BC.

Skipping ahead though- because you know I’m never as interested in museums as one would expect– this vaca was insanely, crazy good for other reasons. Today I have room for story number one of two:

Hopefully you’ve heard a little about the recent feud between China and Japan which started on Sept. 8th when Japan detained a Chinese fishing-boat captain near a set of disputed islands in the East China Sea. Since then, the historic tension between the two countries has worsened, both heightening Chinese nationalism and making our time abroad infinitely more interesting. On Saturday we were lucky enough to stumble across one of many anti-Japanese protests erupting around the country. We had been leisurely wandering the streets to find a park and get in a round of mahjong when a wave of marching chaos descended upon us. Three hours later, there were more people crowding the main roads than vehicles, and the bus that had previously held the intention to drop us off at the train station by 7 pm was completely out of options. Instead, the whole lot of us– 60 ACC students with luggage draped across every limb of our bodies– maneuvered 2 miles on foot through infamous China traffic to catch our ride home.

article: http://www.nytimes.com/2010/10/19/world/asia/19briefs-PROTESTS.html?_r=1&ref=china

Definitely check out the video below. But also notice that while protesting Japan was important to most of these young people, taking photos of foreigners was a close second… if not obvious first.

Imagine this: You book a vacation with a tour agency in China hoping to save the hassle of finding transportation and hotels in a foreign city. Having heard that China’s tour guides receive no salary other than a percentage of what their tour group spends on trinkets and “extra” excursions, you’re savvy to the fact that you’ll be dragged to numerous souvenir shops only to be approached by ferocious sales associates looking to close a deal with the tour agencies and leave you with a slender wallet.

The day began with our tour guide explaining that she would take us to China’s leading company in green innovativation, “The Bamboo House”, which uses bamboo to create clothing and personal products of the utmost quality… or so they said. The woman above was our sly sales associate, who led us to a classroom where we sat and listened to an hour-long infomercial about bamboo washcloths that can repel oil and braces that use natural minerals to bring a healing warmth to sore joints. When we first arrived, my coworkers and I used a harsh skepticism to shield ourselves from the intrigue of the saleswoman’s words. However, as the minutes ticked away and we were allowed to touch and try out the products for ourselves, the wall of doubt that had previously blocked any desire to consume slowly crumbled amidst a growing perception that these truly were “one-of-a-kind” products whose value exceeded their price.

The photo above depicts one of our company’s secretaries (left), who after rolling her eyes throughout the first fifteen minutes of the presentation found herself dumbstruck and in awe of the heat she felt on the back of her neck after testing out “The Bamboo House” neck brace. One can also see the pure evil in the saleswoman’s eyes… to be discussed soon.

It’s hard to describe exactly how I felt while sitting in the classroom letting the woman’s words infiltrate my mind. It was as though my conscious was dying to give in and trust her while something in my subconscious questioned why she felt the need to emphasize the fact that “the company’s address and phone number can be found on each product, and you may return any product before 40 days if you are not fully satisfied, no questions asked!”. At one point in the presentation, another one of my coworkers turned to me and said “完了” or, “I’m finished”. He said he planned to spend at least ¥1000 on these products— gifts for his family and friends.

If my subconscious felt a bit funny during the presentation, it is nothing compared to how I felt when walking aimlessly through the store afterwards. It was like a never-ending Walmart— a maze of merchandise hanging from the ceiling to the floor and trinkets colorfully piled on tables as far as the eye could see. Hundreds of sales associates stood by, ready to pounce if they caught your eyes lingering a second too long on a particular product. After walking relatively fast through the store, I suddenly had the notion that I was walking in circles, stumbling across products that I had already seen once, twice, three times before. The stale, monotonous air suddenly made everything feel like polyester, not bamboo, and my mind spiraled into the kind of claustrophobia kids feel in clothing stores.

When I finally rounded the last corner of the store and burst through two swinging brown doors, I found myself face to face with the scene below: 
That’s right folks— store number two… another winding maze of thousands of “genuine” pearl necklaces, earrings, bracelets. It was here that I was told not to take any photos, heaven forbid somebody ever try to warn future tourists about this monstrous marketing hell.

I should say now that while these pictures may resemble a mall, the building we initially entered looked more like a modern museum or factory— sleek and white with the kind of precision that reminds one of an operating room. To discover room after room of products waiting to win one over with mysterious allure gave one the sensation of being brainwashed, though I now see that that is indeed what was happening.

Approximately two hours after entering the building, I was the first of the group to stumble drunkenly into sunlight. Hands free of packages, I looked around to see that I had fared quite well— almost 90% of other tour groups clutched shopping bags, some large some small, and everyone stood expressionless against the backdrop of the white building. The majority of tourists were retired, likely short on money to begin with but easily attracted by the “bargain” of purchasing 48 towels for ¥48 instead of one towel for ¥12.

After returning to the bus, we waited almost 30 minutes for two of our coworkers to return— one of whom was the guy who had warned me he was “finished” and planned to spend a wad of cash on what he had convinced himself were worthy products. It was then that one of my good friends handed over his cell phone with a thread of online posts about this so-called “Bamboo House” company. The following is one true account of a tourist who came before us:

公司2012年9月6日组织去桂林阳朔旅游。全公司180来号人。9月7日上午去了桂林市阳朔县葡萄镇（此地址不知道真假，而且也是产品上面最详细的地址了）里面是一个工厂，名称叫旭日集团。其商标名称为班豪斯，走进去之后是先是给我们做洗脑，讲解产品的功能。 然后带领我们去购物。购物期间是不许拍照。里面的产品有很多种。 其中负电位纳米能量杯子168元RMB ，一条内裤128RMB 一套磁疗保健护具380RMB。本人总共是花了3百多。女朋友花了7百多。公司其他同事不知道花了多少。每个人都是大包小包的买。里面的产品不知道有多少是假货。但磁疗保健护具这个东西绝对是假货，说里面是托玛琳，可是我去网上查，里面是放了辣椒素，用舌头舔很辣很辣。 脖子有点汗把这个东西贴上面三秒，拿下来，直接就辣的好痛。她说这是身体有湿气。当我发现这是假的之后，我立马下车去准备退货，结果呗导游看见了。我跟他说这是假货，他说 这是真的我做了这么多年怎么可能是假的也没有人要退货的。我也就这样相信他了。导游肯定和那边有勾当。全公司被骗有上万元了也许上十万了。。现在不知道还有多少人在我们之前或者之后被骗。现在我的小票还保留着的。 请你们一定要把这伙人端掉。 要还我们公道。赔我们的血汗钱。

Translation: “Our company went to Yangshuo, Guilin to vacation on September 6th, 2012. Our company has over 180 people total. On the 7th of September, we went to Guilin Yangshuo “Grape Village” (I’m not sure if this address is real or fake, but it’s also the address listed on the products). There was a factory inside, called “旭日集团” or “The Bamboo House”. After entering we were first brainwashed and told about each product’s use. Then they led us to shop. One is not allowed to take pictures when shopping. There were many different products inside, some of which were a magnetic mug- ¥168, a pair of underwear- ¥128, and a protective brace- ¥380. I spent over ¥300 in total, my girlfriend spent over ¥700. I don’t know how much our company’s coworkers spent in total, but everyone left with bags, big and small. I don’t know how many fake products were inside, but the magnetic brace was certainly fake. They told us the inside of the brace had tourmaline, but when I went online to check, I learned that this company actually puts hot pepper flakes inside, which are extremely hot to the tongue. Once your neck is a bit sweaty, apply the brace directly to the neck for three seconds and when you take it away, your skin will be painfully hot. Our saleswoman claimed this feeling was due to “moisture”. As soon as I went online and found out the products were fake, I immediately got out of the bus and prepared to return the products, but I was seen by our tour guide. When I told him the products were fake, he disagreed and said they were real, asking “how could they be fake when I’ve been taking people here for years and no one has ever returned the products?”. So I just believed him. That tour guide definitely has made some kind of deal with them. Our company was cheated into giving almost ¥10,000, maybe even ¥100,000. Now I don’t know how many people have been cheated in the past, but I still have the receipt from my purchase. I’m asking you all to please take these terrible people down and bring us justice. We have lost our hard-earned money.”

Yeah, so… remember when that coworker of mine started to believe them when her neck turned warm after using the special brace? Turns out it was just hot pepper flakes irritating her skin. Below are more photographs from other scheming businesses we were taken to during the same trip.

Later that day, after visiting the bedding company above, our tour guide brought us to a park. I was relieved to have the opportunity to tour and vacation instead of listening to infomercials. Towards the middle of our tour, we were led into a room and told it was used for “doing business with Taiwanese and Japanese guests”. To me, the room was far too ordinary to be used for either diplomatic meetings or high rolling businessmen, so I listened to the tour guide half-heartedly. Then a man entered saying he was from Hong Kong and told us that our tour guide had specifically asked not to take us to another shop to buy things— we had already been to far too many that day. He then invited us to watch a special ten-minute film, which he claimed would narrate the concept and importance of “feng-shui” in China, but turned out to be another obvious attempt at brainwashing/marketing. After the propaganda film ended, we were led into a room filled with Buddhist stone bracelets and told that we were “special guests” who could enjoy 50% off everything.

It was at that point— approximately our 6th experience dealing with marketers on a two-day trip— that I lost my temper. The fact that these people were lying to our faces and promising that they would not try to push us to buy more things made their marketing attempts simply insulting. I ran out into the park and told my coworker, who had long escaped outside for a smoke after the first minute of the film, that I was furious with the tourism industry in China. Had our company honestly paid money for a travel agency to make things easier for us only to empty our wallets on them again during the actual vacation? More importantly, our day literally consisted of touring two mediocre parks and suffering through four different marketing attempts.

That night, my coworkers and I vowed never again to book a vacation through a travel agency in China. It is a surprisingly lucrative business, however, even if it does happen to tug at the moral fiber of tour guides, sales associates, tourists, and the entire society as a whole. The truth is that there is rarely a truth in China— locals habitually doubt the quality of nearly everything they buy, and even the merry park-goer must question the legitimacy of a flowering tree (often times a beautiful blooming bush is the clever artistic result of plastic petals). One can say it’s just a business, but it’s hard to deny that this level of legal acceptance of fraudulent behavior will have significant repercussions on Chinese society and its reputation worldwide.

The farther I verge beyond the warm waters of academia, the more evident the importance of blogs– and cultural blogs, in particular– becomes. After spending four years at Brown University, one of the most open-minded 143 acre plots of land in the world, my attitude towards unknown cultures or stereotypes changed from being naturally judgmental to honestly curious. Rhode Island, after all, maintains a kind of quirky love for individual freedom after going down in history as the first state to declare independence from Britain and the first center of religious and political tolerance in the 17th century.

My Chinese coworkers often ask what sets Brown apart from other Ivies or colleges in the U.S., and above all, I say, that its students, professors, and campus culture is one of the most “宽容” or accepting. I’m not claiming a lack of social cliques– exclusive groups of likeminded people arise no matter what the environment– I’m talking about an overall vibe, whether it be the diverse perspectives covered in lectures, the ridiculous traditions (naked donut run, SPG), or even the way kids dress around campus, that vitalizes a spirit of individuality and in turn reinforces a necessary acceptance of that which is different, foreign, or initially unsettling. Once upon a time, religions used to encourage acceptance among all people, but somewhere along the road, that ideal was lost amidst petty political fights over abortion, marriage law, and immigration.

I came to China in 2012 with a straightforward goal: to do whatever I can to increase understanding between China and the U.S. People call me crazy. Literally. An elderly neighbor once asked, kindly, if I had a mental illness and thus decided to move to China. Friends, coworkers, and general acquaintances of my parents constantly give them grief about their daughter’s decision to move to China and date a Chinese man. They say things like, “Chinese students only come to the U.S. to steal our ideas, bring them back to the mainland and COPY, COPY, COPY. Why would your daughter work to help Chinese steal spots in our most prestigious academic institutions?” Even my own friends poke fun, asking how my Chinese lover is possibly “capable” or if I “throw fortune cookies” in large crowds so that Chinese scatter and clear a path for me to walk. These jokes are cruel, overflowing with stereotypes, and frankly, racist. It’s 2014, and yet to me, many Americans’ vision of China is no better than it was towards Japan in the ’70’s and ’80s, when counterpart businesses in Japan were making major inroads into U.S. markets.

Yeah, the New York Times has a PhD in reporting on China’s negative air quality, human rights abuses, corruption, underdeveloped legal system– the works. Yet I challenge that politicized company to explain the bizarre happiness that persists among those who are worst off in Chinese society, or to understand the incredibly complex tapestry that lies behind some of the world’s most loyal, unshakable relationships in China. See, a culture isn’t like an app that you spend 15 minutes to “get the hang of”. A culture is something that you spend a lifetime trying desperately to understand, and then some. Heck, it wasn’t until after moving to China that I started to see my own culture in a new light. We are continually blinded by conflicting information, a perpetually transformative present, and an infinite sea of perspectives. The key, then, is to go out and experience the world for yourself.

Humans are imperfect. Our pursuit to objectively transmit information is inherently restricted by the fact that we have natural opinions, agendas, and, well, jobs to uphold. There’s no need to point fingers, yet we cannot keep tricking ourselves into assuming we know it all. We need to be more willing to identify and admit the knowledge that we still lack. It’s just as impossible to describe something as complex as “culture” in words, for example, as it is to capture a complete moment in time, what with sights, smells, tastes, sounds, and feelings. Thus, the “resources” that we use to understand the world– whether they be newspapers, magazines, documentaries, or even academic research– are helpful but incomplete representations of reality.

To me, then, the only way to form true opinions of the world is through personal experience, and even then, those opinions almost instantly expire, as the present is merely a flash in time.

First-hand experiences that allow us to interact with other cultures offer the best opportunities for untainted informational exchange. This includes extended travel, frequent conversations with classmates, coworkers, or friends from diverse backgrounds, and, most importantly, a persistent desire to listen.

In the name of one of Lu Xun’s greatest literary works, I’d like to take up a second “call to arms”– a call to listen, to think, and to accept.

It’s the 61st Anniversary of the founding of the People’s Republic of China (National Day or  国庆节). Partayyy! That’s what it was in Tiananmen Square. Cotton candy, corn on the cob, massive floral displays, and… multi-colored plastic devil horn headbands. I have yet to discover their significance. But in essence, the mood on the square tonight resembled that of our Fourth of July. It was unfortunately (or fortunately) not the security-ridden atmosphere that I’d previously conjured up in my mind. Perhaps last year when China rounded its sixth decade the mood was a bit more conflicted, but I doubt it. All the controversial censorship, arrests, and injustices that plague the foreign press coverage on China feel like bitter annoyances when you stare into the crisp, glistening characters on two giant flat screens that illuminate messages of technological success, economic progress and a harmonious society. There is no looming sense of dissatisfaction here but one of overwhelming pride. After all, tonight’s square wasn’t empty but bustling with a smiling crowd snapping photos of their kids posing with Chinese flags and peace signs. And in the end, what’s not to be proud of? All the bad aside, because every country has its dark side, China’s unprecedented growth in the last twenty years is not to be taken lightly. Recognizing the pressures experienced in the past from both within its borders and abroad we might make rational sense not only of China’s rapid economic development but also of its political system. Of course there are many problems left to tackle here, but every citizen deserves a day to honor and rejoice in the successes of the country they live in.

(Photo taken in Xi’an). 红被绿取代了。China is GREEN! Really though, four months in this country and I’m convinced the U.S. better pick up its earth-friendly habits. Here’s a brief list of some of China’s green-ifying techniques:

1. Want a bag? Pay up.

Go to any grocery/convenience store and regardless of how much you buy, the cashier won’t automatically give you plastic bags unless you specifically ask for some and hand over a few coins.

2. No heat in Beijing until November 15th.

Yup, currently suffering under the capital’s centrally-controlled heating policy. Whether or not you enter a cozy classroom on a brisk October morning is up to the government and unless temperatures prematurely drop significantly (as they did last year on Nov 1st), November 15th is the magical date when an official presses the button that sends heat to the homes, schools, and offices of all 22 million Beijingers.   http://www.cbsnews.com/8301-503543_162-20020269-503543.html

3. Hot summer sun? Cool off in 78 degree AC.

This policy isn’t heavily regulated, but the government encourages citizens to keep their AC units set no lower than 26 degrees Celsius, or 78 degrees Fahrenheit during the summer. Also, (according to my parents’ tour guide in Shanghai), if the temperature rises above 35 degrees Celsius in Shanghai, the government will take drastic measures to save energy– including temporarily shutting off lights in the entire city. http://www.shanghai.gov.cn/shanghai/node17256/node17261/node17290/node17303/userobject26ai4181.html

4. Carrying bottled water? Foreign give-away.

You can’t drink water from the tap in China, so the average foreign visitor takes the simple route and buys chilled bottled water daily. But most Chinese believe cold liquids aren’t great for your health and many (especially girls) cannot stomach them. For this reason (and to save money) the vast majority of Chinese boil water and carry large canteens to class or bring a re-usable glass bottle filled with tea to work every day.

… the list goes on. In addition to these little steps, China has recently prioritized renewable energy development and is consistently cited for its progress in focusing on alternative energy, most notably electric cars. Check out this op-ed:  http://www.nytimes.com/2010/09/26/opinion/26friedman.html?src=me&ref=general

There’s been a lot of press about Japan here lately, with the line “Think we’ll go to war?” sneaking into more than a few cocktail party conversations. For those who aren’t familiar with the historical relationship between China and Japan, just know that after two Sino-Japanese wars in which Japan invaded China, the “Nanjing Massacre” in 1937 (where Japanese troops raided, killed, and raped Chinese citizens in Nanjing) and WWII, which again brought Chinese troops face to face with Japanese, relations between the two aren’t exactly chipper.

Disputes regarding ownership of islands in the East China Sea are not a recent development— the photo above was taken in Xi’an in 2010 when the entire city mobilized to protest the Japanese claim of the Diaoyu Islands. Recently, protests and marches have again commenced in a number of eastern cities. Smashing Japanese cars is the newest form of protest, which many non-participants (myself included) find somewhat amusing as nearly 80% of cars here are Toyotas…

Still, aside from a few lively uprisings in Xi’an and other youthful cities, the urge to protest has yet to enter the mainstream— I have not personally witnessed any protests or disturbances of any kind (I’ve heard that southern China is more stable in general when it comes to these issues, primarily because the environment and lifestyle is more comfortable than that up north). I would like to share an article from Nanfang Zhoumo (南方周末) , the subject of which I also spotted on the news while riding to work today. The article examines why the word “reason” or “理性” has become the phrase most often used in tandem with news about the protests. It is a word embraced by both the government and people to direct the emotion of citizens during this time of conflict with Japan. According to the logic of most Chinese, animosity towards Japan for its historical wrongdoings is not juvenile by any means— on the contrary, it is a reasonable stance to take in order to defend the national rights of China that have frequently been challenged in the past.

Protest, according to the article, is a “double-edged sword”— all benefits gained are inevitably accompanied by the risk of immense loss. Counter to popular belief, in the case of Japan, the Chinese government does not restrict the voice of the collective populace— instead, it actively responds to their calls. In this age of modern protest, in order to prevent significant loss or harm to society, the collective voice must be expressed in a rational manner, i.e., there should be a complete set of system specifications to guide and direct the pursuit of personal interest and social justice. In the words of the article, “‘Reason’, simply put, at its most minimum standard does not harm the lawful rights and interests of others.”  (“理性”，简单地说，其最起码的标准是不损害其他人的合法权益). Yet reaching this standard, in our reality, is easier said than done.

The article goes on to describe an ideal world for protest where demonstrators could unite and express their opinions in public without disturbing urban traffic or interrupting the work and lives of others. The finest “rational” we could imagine would consist of demonstrators processing in prescribed routes with police officers acting as “referees”— there to make a call when necessary but passive to the degree that protesters may not even feel their presence (警察仿佛一场精彩比赛的裁判，他们游弋在最需要他们出现的地方，但却几乎让人感觉不到他们的存在).

Although the ideal of a purely rational world is still a fair distance away, the article champions the high school students in Guangzhou who spontaneously cleared away garbage on the streets and the parade of college students shouting “Rationality!” over and over again for giving us the sense that “reason” is not that far away.

Now for my commentary: I think the terms “rational” and “reason” are extremely dangerous for the ease with which they can be defined or defended subjectively. Any criminal will tell you that his or her actions were “reasonable”, because what is rational for an individual may not be rational for others or for society at large. To have a universal consensus on what comprises “rational” action, every country, every government, every individual would need to stand on some common foundation of beliefs. But one look at the disconnect between facts regarding ownership of the Diaoyu Islands and the notion of common ground feels inconceivable.

Knowing that college students chanted “rationality” does not give me hope that Chinese society is nearing some utopian model of systemized, constructive protest. On the contrary, it brings me back to AP English, 1984, and a world of “doublespeak”.

New-fangled feminism.

Above is an article published last spring on the Economist blog. It delves into the modern state of women in China, from calls for girls to wear more “modest dress” in public to avoid harassment to the dilemma of surface-level equality with women comprising 46% of a workforce still largely influenced by patriarchal management.

The Chinese generation growing up around the time of our baby-boomers faced a slightly different society than exists for women in China today. No small number of families required their daughters to give most if not all of their salary to the family, which could then be passed on to the sons of the family as needed. Indeed, having a son was considered to be good fortune to the extent that he was better able to provide for his parents and need not worry about things like marrying into a wealthier family. Thus, throughout Chinese history, giving birth to a son secured a woman more respect and support from her husband’s family. Announce that you are having a daughter, however, and you may as well announce the beginning of your doom.

Now, it may be surprising to hear that Mao Zedong, the infamous man who the West holds responsible for initiating mass starvation during the Cultural Revolution, was somewhat of a feminist. Mao once said that women “hold up half the sky”. During the May Fourth Movement, which refers to a social, political, and cultural movement that began on May 4th, 1919 when 5,000 students from Beijing University took to the streets to protest the Chinese government’s weak response to the Versailles Treaty, Mao joined the body of youth advocating modernization and an end to “Confucianism”— the philosophy that had governed Chinese society for thousands of years (and still underlies Chinese mentality today). Throughout the May Fourth Movement and New Culture Movement, the call for gender equality was consistently at play. Along with modern ideas of “freedom in marriage and love”, the notion that women deserved new clout in Chinese society and in the family was discussed in dozens of articles and journals, the most famous being the New Youth journal. Mao Zedong himself wrote a number of essays promoting the rights of women in his youth. Strongly opposed to Confucianism, a philosophy whose teachings were often compatible with a bourgeois and elitist society, Mao joined the New Culture Movement before going on to establish the Communist Party, where he succeeded as an extremely gifted and intelligent orator.

Many scholars write that Chinese experienced a period of quasi gender equality throughout the 1950s and 1960s under the rule of Mao Zedong. The poster above, however, which depicts China’s support for North Vietnam during the war with the United States, proves that the status of women at that time was perhaps not without its limitations. Female “red guards” were undoubtedly given important roles during Mao’s era, cutting their hair short and dressing more or less the same as men, but some argue that they were still being forced to adapt to a “superior image”— i.e., the male. Take a look at the poster above, for example. Replace the woman’s hair with a hat and roughen up her facial features and she is essentially a man. Sexual relationships were highly discouraged among red guards during the Cultural Revolution— romantic love was seen as infringing on one’s love for the country. Women were thus essentially de-sexualized and then embraced as “equals”. The debate about whether this period in Chinese history represents true progress for women is still active among academics today.

At the same time Mao’s country was desexualizing women, Mao had a number of intimate relationships with highly influential, intelligent women throughout his life. He is known for being a romantic, writing poetry to brilliant women who inspired him with their courageous spirit. His second wife and first true love, Yang Kaihui, was so taken with Mao that she gave her life in 1930 after being captured by the KMT (Nationalist Party, opposed to the Communists), saying “Even if the seas run dry and the rocks crumble, I would never break off relations with Mao Zedong… I prefer to die for the success of Mao’s revolution career”. Mao’s fourth wife, actress Jiang Qing, also took up Mao’s cause, forming the “Gang of Four” and playing a crucial role in the CPC Propaganda Department throughout the Cultural Revolution.

After Mao’s death, the country welcomed in a new leader, Deng Xiaoping, who opened the country to economic development, complete with western ideas of female elegance and grace. Today, China embraces femininity to the Nth degree— there are more shops selling cutesy bows, stockings, scarves, fake eyelashes, and short skirts than there are gas stations (okay, I admit that’s my own statistic). Really though, China has gone from foot-binding to red guards to girly headbands in one 100-year block of time. It is precisely this rapidity of social transformation that makes the role of women in modern Chinese society a crap shoot, at best, depending on who you talk to.

My conclusion: China is still decades behind the U.S. in terms of how it considers women. While many Chinese women are emerging as leading intellectuals, proving their ability on standardized tests, in the workplace, and in society, there is still an underlying sense that women do not have the same responsibilities of men, that somehow their lives are not as difficult. This is what I see as most dangerous. There is a recent trend in China where girls expect men to provide them with houses, cars, and designer bags before agreeing to date them. The Internet is overflowing with frustrated statements from males who are fed up with all the responsibility— they’re attempting to court selfish, materialistic girls who abandoned the idea of “love” long ago to secure their financial futures. So yeah, girls, there’s no way you’ll be equal in society with that attitude. Toughen up, find yourself a clear-thinking mind and then we’ll see how the world views us.

The photograph above depicts a series of stone tablets in Shawan Ancient Village (沙湾古镇) erected during the Ming Dynasty (1368–1644). The 9-foot monuments were placed in the town square to commemorate the high marks of local citizens who participated in the Imperial Examination. With its first debut during the Sui Dynasty around 605, the Chinese Imperial Exam became the primary means by which administrative officials were elected to serve in the state bureaucracy. For those who may have lacked an interest in politics, the exam was also a way to improve one’s status in society— no matter how poor of a background a man came from, his level of intellect as demonstrated by his performance on the examination could win him respect and honor within his local community or even the nation at large. The Imperial Examination witnessed various alterations throughout each dynastic period but remained the primary means for social mobility until its termination in 1905.

By the time of the Ming Dynasty, the tests generally lasted between 24 and 72 hours. Test-takers sat in isolated examination rooms where they re-wrote entire ancient texts and poems from memory. The content of the test initially included the “Six Arts”– arts, music, arithmetic, writing, and knowledge of the rituals and ceremonies in both public and private life— before expanding to include the “5 Studies”— military strategy, civil law, revenue and taxation, agriculture and geography, and the Confucian classics. The examination content did not vary across regions and thus served to reinforce a nationwide consensus on Chinese cultural values and promoted a harmonious, unified empire. 

On average, no more than 5% of test takers scored well enough to receive titles of merit. Some men spent their entire lives in preparation only to return home time and again without a trace of recognition. The Chinese Imperial Exam is credited by historians as being the first standardized testing system in the world based solely on merit. The exam has also contributed to China’s consistent emphasis on education, which remains strikingly evident in the unparalleled respect granted to teachers in Chinese society today.