by Lenora Chu
On the other hand, Landon never asked permission to do anything.
* * *
On the last day of Middle Class grade, school let out a few hours early.
Rob and I chased after our son and a few hundred schoolmates as the children clambered down the stairs from the classrooms and hurtled onto Big Green. Bodies flooded the lawn, voices chirping at each other.
“Fangxuele—School’s out!”
“Dengwo—Wait for me! Wait!”
“Yiqi wanba!—Let’s play together over the summertime!”
Rainey linked hands with two classmates, Dongge and GuaZi, and the trio pulled each other toward the edge of Big Green and a row of bushes.
“Let’s look for earthworms!” Rainey yelled, digging in a patch of chocolate-colored soil and pulling on the end of a wriggling pink mass of worm.
“Eggh,” said Dongge, a pretty girl in an aquamarine dress, wrinkling her face. GuaZi also recoiled. Dongge’s mother was a soft-spoken woman, a Buddhist, who never quite fit in with the regular crowd of fancy urbanites at Soong Qing Ling. Today she wanted to talk summer.
“Do you like to sail?” she asked, as our children frolicked near the bushes.
“We’ve never been sailing,” I told her.
“Sailing is great,” she said. “The children can learn balance and also be physically active at the same time.” I’d not heard of sailing previously described in this manner.
A circus of excited children and parents raced toward the exit. The guards at the gate had changed out of their uniforms, and I detected some smiles among the phalanx of men that had once seemed so formidable. I glanced over at Rainey. Ever the patient leader, Rainey had managed to turn the girls’ disgust into curiosity in under ten minutes flat, and Dongge was now holding worms up against the daylight, checking for transparency. A pile of wiggling masses colonized a small bed of leaves at her feet.
“Okay now, let’s go ring the bell!” Rainey screamed out, changing course to clamber up the school’s climbing trellis, twenty-foot-high yellow poles connected by horizontal ropes. A red metal bell hung at the top, and he grasped the rope and pulled with all his might, body leaning into thin air above our heads.
“Ding ding ding! Dong dong dong!” Rainey rang. “Fangxuele—School’s out!” he screamed to his classmates, who continued to stream out the exit gates.
Dongge, her cotton dress billowing in the afternoon breeze, began scrambling up the rope, her face tilted upward. Soon, the two were ringing together.
“It’s the last day of school!” Rainey shouted to the sky.
“It’s the last day of school!” Dongge echoed, placing a hand just below Rainey’s on the thick rope, their giggles mingling with the clanging chimes.
At ground level, Dongge’s mother droned on about her morning routine: Mother and daughter listen daily to recordings of the writings of Confucius, Mencius, Laozi, and Zhuangzi.
“She’s been doing this since she was three and a half,” her mother said. “Research shows that the morning time after getting up is a golden time for the brain.”
I thought about Rainey’s morning routine: oatmeal and milk, followed by a half hour of Star Wars Lego play.
“Can Dongge read the classics also?” I asked, suspecting I already knew the answer.
“Yes, at night I’ll sit down and read three passages each day. Then I’ll point to each character as she recites from memory. She just picks it up. There are many beautiful sentences in those readings. Have you heard of the Book of Changes?”
“Yes, but I’m not familiar with the text,” I replied.
I glanced up at Rainey and Dongge, one who enacted light-saber battles over breakfast, another who awoke each morning to Confucian chants. Tired of ringing together, they began taking turns yanking the rope. At this particular moment, it seemed nothing separated the two: not nationality, language, religion, or gender—not even proficiency with the recorder.
Dongge’s mother wrapped up her pitch. “This week, we’ll work on the Classic of Filial Piety,” she said. “It doesn’t matter how much you understand. She’ll remember it after being exposed to it for a long time. You will love it—it’s classically Chinese. You should try it with Rainey sometime,” she said.
I glanced skyward. It was a good pollution day, and three bloated clouds swam lazily against long stretches of gray sky. The principals I’d tussled with for the last two years were nowhere in sight. The clanging from our happy children bounced off the skyscrapers towering over the school, echoing for a few moments, before dissipating into the ether.
“Maybe,” I said. “Maybe I will.”
Acknowledgments
This is a work of nonfiction, resulting from seven years of living, reporting, and raising a family in Shanghai. I’ve changed names and identifying details where necessary to protect those who have divulged information or engaged in activities that would either compromise their privacy (or that of others) or draw scrutiny from the Chinese government. I’ve also changed the name of my son’s school.
I’m grateful to the young Chinese who agreed to be part of this book. Darcy was a teenager when I first met him in Shanghai, and I watched him blossom into a sure-footed young adult who taught me how many Chinese reconcile what they’re told with what is in their hearts. Amanda revealed to me the punishing mental sacrifices of a student in Shanghai; in her story I saw my younger self, and I find her resolve an inspiration. Lauren illuminated the brutal odds faced by rural families; may the winds bring her and her family everything they wish for. Thanks to all the others who consented to be interviewed for this book. This project would not have been possible without you. I also called on several part-time research assistants during the reporting and research phase, and I’m thankful for their dedication and trust. One chose to remain unnamed, and the others I’d like to mention are Michelle Hu, Shuang Wu, Yan Yuran, and Qingyi Zhu.
Thanks to Dorian Karchmar at William Morris Endeavor for her belief in me (and to Suzanne Gluck for helping me find her). I’m blessed to have not only a boxer for a literary agent but also a mentor in my corner. I’ll always be grateful to Claire Wachtel for acquiring this project, and to Gail Winston at Harper for her masterly editing, and for shepherding the work onward with her sharp wisdom and steady hand. Thanks to Jonathan Burnham and Doug Jones for championing this book; to Sofia Groopman for her unflagging support; and to Heather Drucker, Nicole Dewey, Leah Wasielewski, Christine Choe, and the rest of the team for helping launch it into the world.
I benefitted from the advice, encouragement, and content expertise of colleagues and friends, including Alec Ash, James Areddy, Sebastien Carrier, Rebecca Catching, Margaret Conley, Stacy Cowley, Angela Doland, Clayton Dube, James and Deb Fallows, Russell Flannery, David Fleishman, Mei Fong, Jeremy Friedlein, Michelle Garnaut, Sig Gissler, York-Chi Harder and Stephen Harder, Peter Hessler, Corinne Hua, Vanessa Hua, Tina Kanagaratnam, Michael Kozuch, Kaiser Kuo, Margot Landman, Frank Langfitt, Jane Lanhee Lee, Diane Long, Ophelia Ma, Margo Melnicove, Adam Minter, Amanda Joan Mitchell, Michael Meyer, Crystyl Mo, Dipika Mukherjee, Phyllis Neufeld, Ching-Ching Ni, Evan Osnos, Sandy Padwe, Will Plummer, Qiu Xiaolong, Scott Rozelle, James Stigler, Peter Sweeney, Vijay Vatiheeswaran, Bruno van der Burg, Jeffrey Wasserstrom, Xinran, Jie Zhang, Sheen Zhang, and Michael Zilles. Steve Kettmann and Sarah Ringler hosted me at the Wellstone Center in the Redwoods, where I wrote three chapters beneath the Santa Cruz sunshine.
I’m indebted to friends who were willing to read all or parts of a draft and offer feedback, including Justin Bergman, Steven Bourne, Rachel Ee-Heilemann, Juthymas Harntha, Jessamine Koenig, Melissa Lam, Jen Lin Liu, Amy Poftak, Sarah Schafer, and Christine Tan. It’s not easy getting that email with a 400-page document attached, and I’ll always be thankful for your time. Thanks also to Jiang Xueqin for asking to see the manuscript, and special thanks to Victor Chiu for his meticulous eye for detail. I’m also obliged to Thomas Arnold, William Hogan, and Lucia Pierce for offering thoughts on the pr
ologue.
A first book is an undertaking that requires audacity, mental resolve, and a physical stamina that calls for retreating into windowless rooms for months at a time. I rarely had these qualities in abundance, and never all at the same time, and when I wavered, my friends and loved ones cheered me on.
On that note, I’m thankful for the friendship and support, sometimes in the form of food, shelter, or babysitting, from the following: Alyshea Austern, Brantley Turner-Bradley and Doug Bradley, Alex Chen, Grace Chiu, Beth Colgan, Grace Lee and Dan Connelly, Fitz de Smet, Arsheya Devitre, Brenda Erickson, Eric Ericson, Christine Grand, Alexandra and Christian Hansmeyer, Steven Harris, Erich Heilemann, Ellen Himelfarb, Denise Huang, Heather and George Kaye, Lindsay Klump, Denise Landeros-Schmitz, Julie Langfitt, Rich Langone, Daniel Levine, Ann Meier, Maggie Moon, Kari Olson, Sonja Ortega, Caroline Pan, Lei Lei Peng, Jennifer Pitman, Michelle Rothoff, Ashley Schmitz, Dan Schmitz, Ryan Schmitz, Sofia Skoda, Alok Somani, Chris and Trask Stalnaker, Jason Stanard, Leslie Stephenshaw, Charles Tien, Liang Tien, Ming Tien, Mercedes Valle-Harris, Rishi Varma, Seth Werner, Stacey Wilson, Evonne Yang, and Rae Yang.
I couldn’t have completed this project without the support of my family. I didn’t have nearly enough time with my father-in-law, James Schmitz, but I’m grateful for the legacy he’s left us and the boys. JoAnn Schmitz’s calming influence and keen advice on everything from parenting to educating an elementary school child have been indispensable, and I loved talking about education with her closest teacher friends over red wine.
I’ll always be grateful to my maternal grandparents, Tseng-Ying and Chin-Kai Tien; my fondest childhood memories come from visiting Grandpa’s lab at the University of Michigan, and frolicking summers in that expansive backyard. To my paternal grandparents, Yung Chien Chu and Wen-Yu Sun Chu, as much as I might complain about marathon cooking sessions for Chinese holidays, those are also some of my most cherished memories. Thank you all for helping me make my way.
My sister, Joyce Chu Moore, continues to amaze me every day, especially as she manages two toddlers in a brutal San Francisco Bay Area parenting scramble while also chairing a psychology department and running a training program to treat underserved minorities. She’s a loyal friend and my most patient counselor, and I hope we’ll someday live closer than an eleven-hour plane ride. I’m thrilled Kenney Moore is part of the family, and our doors are always open to him and to Greyson and Coralai.
While I may have protested their methods, I never argued with their motivations. My parents, Humbert and Judy Chu, taught me the value of hard work and schooled me with the attitude that anything is possible. Always outsiders in some sense, they were immigrants to America, and later we were one of the few Chinese American families in our neighborhood. I’ll cherish every day of our journey, trying to figure it out together. Full disclosure: I disagree with my parents on the details of one anecdote. As I remember it, my mother and father refused to buy me a gerbil after I lost the piano competition described in these pages. Mom insists they carted their grumpy teenager off to the pet store anyway, where I stuck my finger into the gerbil cage, promptly got bitten, and forever swore off pet rodents. Whatever the truth, I always felt I was loved beyond the extent to which their arms could reach, and further than the depths of the heart. They poured their time and energy into ensuring my and my sister’s future, many times at great sacrifice, and my own parenting efforts will always fall short.
In many ways, this book belongs to Rob Schmitz. Our life together has turned out to be an adventure I never could have imagined when we first struck up a conversation on the 1/9 train in New York. He has showed me the beauty in staring up at the stars and chasing a frog through the bushes, and taught me to seek a work life that’s enjoyed rather than simply tolerated. I’m astounded by his talent for languages and for bringing stories to life, and I also aspire to his gift for seeing the light in any situation. I’m thrilled he’s my life partner, and thankful that home feels like . . . home. My sons, Rainey and Landon, bring me more joy than I can describe, but I’ll try. Rainey, you’re an inspiration: I didn’t have your resilience or your confidence until I was practically an adult. Thanks for dashing my fears about this project and diving in with enthusiasm: “I don’t care, Mom! It’s okay if people know things about me!” Landon, you bring light into my life and I’m sorry the office stole so much of my time these last couple of years. May the next stretch bring our family lots of world travel, Star Wars Lego sets, impromptu hunts for 黄鼠狼, and homemade chocolate chip cookies.
Selected Bibliography
For my research, I conducted interviews with academics, Chinese parents, teachers, principals, and education policy makers, and experts. I consulted academic reports from China, the United States, Europe, and Australia; mainstream Chinese news media and online forums; and on occasion, Western news outlets. For data, I relied on Chinese government sources, including the Ministry of Education and the National Bureau of Statistics; Chinese state media; Chinese, American, and European researchers; and the work of not-for-profits and think tanks. What follows is a select bibliography of sources. I have translated the titles of Chinese sources into English. Generally, if the sources were referenced in more than one chapter, I placed them under General Sources. (For more detailed notes about facts, figures, and quotes, please visit my website www.lenorachu.com.)
Prologue
Friedman, Thomas. “The Shanghai Secret,” New York Times, October 23, 2013.
Levin, Richard. “The Rise of Asia’s Universities.” Speech delivered at the Royal Society, London, England, January 31, 2010, http://president.yale.edu/about/past-presidents/levin-speeches-archive.
Office of the Press Secretary, the White House. “Remarks by the President on the Economy in Winston-Salem, North Carolina.” Posted on ObamaWhiteHouse.gov, December 6, 2010.
Chapter 1: Force-Fed Eggs
Heng, Wang. “Cultural Interpretations of Socratic and Confucian Education Philosophy.” PhD diss., University of Louisville, 2013.
Shanghai Municipal Education Commission. “Notice on Further Strengthening the Work of Management and Selection of Municipal Exemplary Preschool.” Office of Shanghai Municipal Education Commission, July 9, 2009.
Starr, Don. “China and the Confucian Education Model.” Position paper commissioned by Universitas 21 (May 2012).
Chapter 2: A Family Affair
Interviews include Bo Weifeng, Ge Fang Ping, Gregory Yao, Ye Xue Jie.
Feng, Hairong, et al. “Examining Chinese Gift-giving Behavior from the Politeness Theory Perspective.” Asian Journal of Communication, June 24, 2011.
Larsen, Janet. “Meat Consumption in China Now Double That in the United States.” Earth Policy Institute, April 24, 2012.
National Bureau of Statistics. “2016 Migrant Work Monitoring and Research Report.” National Bureau of Statistics website, April 28, 2017.
Zhu, Dongli. “The Structure and Social Function Analysis of Chinese Folk Present-Giving Custom.” Northwest A & F University, 2010, 29–32.
Chapter 3: Obey the Teacher
Interviews include Xu Song Gen, Huang Man Jie, Guo Li Ping.
National People’s Congress. “Law of Compulsory Education of the People’s Republic of China.” April 12, 1986.
Soong Qing Ling School. Child Development Book, 2013–2014.
Chapter 4: No Exceptions to the Rule
Interviews include Yang Qiao Yun, Zhou Xiao Lan.
Boroditsky, Lera. “Does Language Shape Thought?: Mandarin and English Speakers’ Conceptions of Time.” Cognitive Psychology 43 (2001), 1–22.
DeFrancis, John. The Chinese Language: Fact and Fantasy. University of Hawaii Press, 1984.
Environmental Protection Agency. Air Quality Index: A Guide to Air Quality and Your Health (February 2014).
Erbaugh, Mary S. “The Acquisition of Mandarin.” Crosslinguistic Study of Language Acquisition 3 (1992), 373–455.
Juan, Yang. “Problems of Chinese Evaluation of Chil
dren with Special Needs.” Journal of Sichuan College of Education 10 (2011).
Ministry of Education of the PRC. Chinese Curriculum Standards of Compulsory Education (2011). Beijing Normal University Publishing Group, 2011.
———. “Twelve Departments’ Advice on the Implementation of Standard Character List for Common Usage.” Posted on the Ministry of Education website, October 15, 2013.
Ministry of Environmental Protection of the PRC. “List of Enterprises under Key Supervision of the Nation in 2016.” February 4, 2016.
Moser, David. “Why Chinese Is So Damn Hard.” Schrifestschrift: Essays on Writing and Language in Honor of John DeFrancis on His Eightieth Birthday. Sino-Platonic Papers, 1991.
Shanghai Board of Education. “Heavy Air Pollution in Shanghai, Education Commission Requires Suspension of All Outdoor Activities for Students.” People’s Daily website. December 2, 2013.
Twenty-first Century Institute of Education. 2014 Blue Book of Education. Social Sciences Academic Press, 2014.
Wong, Edward. “‘Airpocalypse’ Smog Hits Beijing at Dangerous Levels.” Sinosphere (blog), New York Times, January 17, 2014.
Chapter 5: No Rewards for Second Place
China Education Online. “The History of the Gaokao.” Posted on ifeng.com, April 21, 2010.
China News Network. “In 2014, 7.97 Million Students Were Admitted into Academic High Schools, 260 000 Less than Last Year.” July 30, 2015.
Civil Service Examinations, Berkshire Encyclopedia of China. Berkshire Publishing Group 2009.