姥姥走了

 姥姥走了

姥姥走了，清晨醒來看到的第一個消息。九十高壽的人離去，我們的心情很複雜，是一種說不明的解脫，但也是忍不住的難過。

三零年生人，去年剛過了九十大壽，孫子們給她戴上壽星帽，她一臉的微笑，但也不乏無可無不可。那一幕好像昨天。二十七號晚她從炕上摔下來，沒幾天就走了。我們所有的人都以為她還會活下去，活很多年。

姥姥育有五子，三男兩女，可惜小姨夭折，大舅心梗，四十來歲就走了。我媽，姥姥最大的孩子，跟著我父親建設西北，二十二歲就到了新疆，七年後才再次回來。因為這三個孩子，姥姥多次躺在床上，不吃不喝，也不說話，心碎到了極致，就是這樣的吧。

姥姥有十個外/孫子/女，十八個重外/孫子/女，四世同堂已經有十五六年。照全家福的時候，滿滿一框子人。

姥姥好像有魔力，什麼都能養得很好。院子裡有兩顆棗樹，秋高氣爽的時候，姥姥把棗摘下來，挑脆的，用烈酒醃起來，到農曆年的時候吃，帶著冰，裹著酒香，含帶棗甜，姥姥叫它酒棗，是我兒時最美的點心，後來走遍很多地方，也沒找到它的替代品。

聽說從前院子裡還有一片葡萄架子，那時我還不會走路，老爺總在葡萄藤下逗我玩。姥姥會不停地忙，忙著給大家做飯，忙著照顧家畜，忙著嚷嚷不聽話的孩子。姥姥養過幾隻貓，都和她一起吃飯，用同一個碗。院子裡總有幾隻豬，兩三隻羊，一群雞，從來都井然有序，豬在西南角，羊在東南角，雞在東南偏北。

這套院子我很熟悉。從新疆回到太原，弟弟一歲多，就留在了姥姥家，直到上小學才接回父母身邊。一放假，我就回去，看姥姥，看家人，看弟弟。弟弟長大了，我們兩個搭伴坐火車回姥姥家，過年，過暑假。白天，看姥姥從一睜眼忙到天黑，圍著爐台，圍著我們，閒下來就擦家，鍋碗瓢盆都乾淨地發光；所有櫃子抽屜裡的東西都擺放的整整齊齊；要串門的時候，姥姥要先看黃曆，選好日子，穿戴整齊，頭髮都要梳得油光發亮，然後才出門。晚上，聽姥姥講故事，講家長里短，講我們的小時候，講大人的小時候，講我爺爺我奶奶。夏天，想吃瓜果，就豎起耳朵聽牆外的吆喝，如果有人吆喝，我們就跟在姥姥身後，看她舀起一瓢谷子，出門，換一個西瓜，幾個桃。冬天，看姥姥忙過年：小年二十三用糖瓜祭祀灶王爺，大年三十在院子南面擺上桌子，桌上擺滿花饅頭和水果，祭天地；大年初一祭祖先，祖先排位擺在廳堂西南角；從初一到初五，每天要喝紅糖水，小孩子會拿到紅包。

記憶中的姥姥特別高，特別忙，那忙碌的高大的背影，加上我熟悉的院子，就是我熟悉的姥姥的一生了。下個月就要過年了，今年姥姥就不用再忙了，她一定會看著我們在凡間繼續忙碌，有時心碎，有時喜悅，這就是人生。

A Caring Society in a Pandemic

We Are Not Alone

Seeing Our Present and Future in the Past

The Duties of the Intellect

 

As an educator, scholar, writer, and translator, I thought of the duties of the intellect a rather big issue all the time. Before 2020, I had reached an agreement with myself that the duties for me as an intellect and a mom of three kids were to teach with passion and write with insight. I traveled around the world to give public talks, I engaged myself with my students, and I enjoyed chatting with my colleagues. Life was quite decent.

 

Then COVID came during the year of election, which changed everything, including how I view this old topic, the duties of the intellect. When we are stuck inside home, some people have to go out to work, and they were called essential workers. Soon I found out that most of the essential workers were students, they deliver packages, serve food, and work at front desks. One female Latino student decided to work for Costco in April saying “I am young, if I did not go out to work and be an essential worker, who will?” Then I realized how privileged we are that we can work from home. Think of the people who cannot? Why not? Why them? Then one African American male student told me that he was pulled over by the police three times since COVID for nothing. One Chinese American student went out to a grocery store. At entrance line, a lady in front of him and a man behind him both yelled at him, “Get away from me.” Also, my 8-year-old son was very good at acting, I told him practice acting and become an actor. He said, “Mom, I won’t succeed.” “Why? Who said that? How could you know?” His reply broke my heart, “Mom, I am not white.”

 

The confusion, pain, anxiety, and hopeless, all of sudden, washed over me, at both societal and personal level. I looked for help from history and literature. In March, when my school and my kids’ schools turned into remote learning, I picked up The Tales of Two Cities by Charles Dickens. I read the first page and cried:

 

It was the best of times, 

it was the worst of times, 

it was the age of wisdom, 

it was the age of foolishness, 

it was the epoch of belief, 

it was the epoch of incredulity, 

it was the season of Light, 

it was the season of Darkness, 

it was the spring of hope, 

it was the winter of despair.

We had everything before us, we had nothing before us.

We were all going direct to Heaven, we were all going direct the other way

 – in short,

the period was so far like the present period, that some of its noisiest authorities insisted on its being received, for good or for evil, in the superlative degree of comparison only.

 

What Dickens taught me is that we are not alone. We cannot be alone. We are not the first generation experiencing any strong emotions, neither are we the first group to experience a pandemic. I continued my journey to seek inspiration, and I found out about the third century, an amazing but tragic time.

 

Throughout thousands of years of Chinese history, there were three major population drops, the first one happened during the third century, from 57 million people during the Eastern Han Dynasty (206 B.C.E.-9 C.E.) to nearly 50 million during the Western Han (25-220) to less than 10 million during The Three Kingdoms (220-265). If we search the word “pandemic” (yì 疫) to survey the official histories of the three eras, it is strikingly clear that pandemics were the cause of the decreasing population. During the 215 years of the Eastern Han Dynasty, yì appeared 31 times; during the 195 years of the Western Han Dynasty, yì appeared 74 times; during the 45 years of The Three Kingdoms, yì appeared 38 times. Pandemics happened more and more frequently, from once every seven years to once every 2 or 3 years to almost once a year. Considering the fluctuation of the numbers we have, it is safe to say that the third century pandemics wiped out two thirds of the population.

 

How did people react to the deadly disease? To the hopeless situation? How did they feel about the dying, the dead, and their own life? What did they do?

 

Cao Zhi (192-232), a prince of Wei and an accomplished poet in his time, wrote an essay on pandemic:

 

In the twenty-second year of the Jian’an era (218), a pestilential humor prevailed. Every household suffered from the pain of death; from every chamber there came the sound of wailing. In some cases, entire families passed away; in other cases, whole clans were wiped out. Some people believed that the plague was caused by ghosts and deities. All of those who were stricken by the epidemic were, however, people wearing coarse clothes, eating bean leaves, and living in humble dwellings of brambles and reeds. As for families residing in great mansions and dining from arrayed tripods, dressed in sable coats and sitting on layered mats, they were rarely affected. The plague occurred because the yin and yang were displaced, and the cold and hot seasons were out of joint. And yet ignorant folk hung talismans in an effort to expel it --that was quite ridiculous.[1]

 

The situation Cao Zhi experienced was horrifying and deadly, as a pandemic took some entire families or clans. He mistakenly thought that only poor people who cannot eat well and dwell will die. When COVID first broke out in China, many western presses thought it only happened on Chinese people or other races. Later, the western people thought it only happened to the people of colors or seniors. Cao Zhi was wrong, so did many people of our time. Pandemic infects any human being, regardless of race, gender, and age.

 

For COVID, many people believed and still believe in all kinds of conspiracies, as they try to understand this germ. Cao Zhi regarded the pandemic as nature out of balance. I think Cao Zhi, who lived two-thousand years ago, was right in the sense of environment. As David Quamman explained in his book Spillover: Animal Infections and The Next Human Pandemic published in 2012, that many diseases originated in wild animals before being passed to human. We invaded the nature, and the nature revenges with germs.

 

Another positive thing we can learn from Cao Zhi’s writing is that facing the deadly disease, the third century Chinese did not blame or attack any minorities or their fellows, rather they blamed ghosts and deities. Third century witnessed the first wave of globalization, so Chinese people encountered many others from Central Asia or beyond who lived in many other parts of China. Those others were not attacked or associated with the deadly germ. In 2020 in the USA, the Chinese became scapegoats, and faced serious occasions of being beaten, verbally or physically. This was again not the first-time that certain minority was targeted, blamed or attacked. During the Black Death, Jews were burned. We have to think harder about the duties of the intellect: what should we do to avoid the blind hatred in this culture? 

 

Cao Zhi’s older brother Cao Pi (ca. 187-226) soon realized that the pandemic can infect everyone, including himself, the Emperor Wen of Wei (r.220-226). On March 17, 218, Cao Pi wrote a letter to Wu Zhi (177-230) who later assisted in found the new dynasty:

 

Many relatives and old friends were stricken by last year’s epidemic. Xu, Chen, Ying, and Liu passed away all at once. How could I speak of the pain![2]

 

Xu Gan, Chen Lin, Ying Yang, and Liu Zhen were four royal followers of Cao Pi, four active members in his political and literary circle. All of them died because of the pandemic in 217.

 

Cao Pi, the emperor, was deeply affected. He wrote a letter to Wang Lang, Chamberlain for Law Enforcement, whom he had always respected:

 

Alive, a man has a body of seven chi; dead, he becomes a coffinful of dirt. Only by establishing virtue and spreading fame does he not decay; the next best thing is to write books. Epidemics frequently strike; members of the gentry wither and fall. Who am I that I alone could hope to live out my natural lifespan?[3]

 

Cao Pi not only realized that pandemic was not biased, that means he could die of it as well; but also, deeply worried about the question we worry: considering we can die, theoretically sooner due to a natural disaster, what can we do? As the intellect? As the educated? He found the solution: Writing!

 

Fighting decay, physically and spiritually, with writing was an old idea. About five centuries before Cao Pi’s time, tere was a discussion about immortality, which was called “Three Things that Do Not Decay” (sān bù xiǔ  三不朽), and they were “virtue,” “deeds,” and “words.”[4] Either you establish high moral standards and being a moral model such as Confucius; or you contribute military success like founding figures; or you write. You will perish and leave the world, but your words will carry on your thoughts and live on forever.

 

As a scholar and writer, thankfully, writing is what I do! This sense of urgency for writings somehow comforts me, as I know writing once was so much valued by the one with ultimate power.

 

Cao Pi was not just saying it, he did it:

 

… Thereupon he (Cao Pi) composed his Normative Discourses as well as his poems and rhapsodies, which amounted to over one hundred pieces. He gathered various scholars within the Sucheng Gate and tirelessly discussed with them the general import [of his writings].[5]

 

He composed, he encouraged his followers to compose, and he even equalized writing to state affairs. Not surprisingly, his time was considered the “literary awakening period.”

 

Because of COVID, I want to write more! On what though? We cannot pretend nothing happened, we cannot resume our life as if COVID never came, even after when we can go back to the so called “normal.” COVID posts a death threat upon us, more importantly it accelerates many social conflicts and inequalities that we have to face and solve. Facing my students who struggle in a pandemic, hearing unjust accidents, thinking of our coming generations, I gain the urge to keep seeking inspiration and solutions.

 

There will be a conflict if there are two or more people. There will be a conflict between two species, such as human being and COVID this time. How do we solve the conflict? Confucius answered it with “benevolence” (ren 仁). The word is consisting of two parts, human radical on the left and number 2 on the right, which means being kind to others is the best way to solve conflicts. Can we use unkind ways to solve disputes? Maybe, but we can only solve the problem temporarily, but not provide a constructive and ever-lasting way to sustain a peaceful society.

 

Mencius (372-289 B.C.E.), a Confucian philosopher, elaborated the Ren or benevolence further:

 

Treat your elders as elders, and extend it to the elders of others;

treat your young ones as young ones, and extend it to the young ones of others;

then you can turn the whole world in the palm of your hand.[6]

 

Being benevolent or kind means to respect all elders and take care of all youth. We don't need ambition to control the world, but we desperately need to control COVID and any discrimination against people who need help!

 

Are we kind? Is our culture kind? Does our culture allow us to be kind? Does our society support us to be kind? How do we build a kind and caring society? Can we, the educated, use words, one of three immortalities, to promote a caring society? If not us, then who?

 

In the spring of this pandemic year, BBC released a documentary on Du Fu (712-770) titled China’s Greatest Poet. Why is Du Fu the greatest? He is special not because he is talented, since there are millions of talented poets in Chinese history. He stands out because he cared, and he used his poetic and writing talents to express his cares. He was the only poet called “Poet Historian” in Chinese history.

 

Spring Scene

 

Du Fu

 

In fallen states, hills and streams are still there;
The city is in Spring, grass and leaves abound.
There are tears on the flowers, who feel the times;
Birds startle my heart, they too hate partings.
The beacon fires have been linked for three months,
A letter from home is worth a thousand pounds.
My grey hairs are scratched even shorter,
Soon it will not be enough to hold my cap.

 

This pome was composed in March 757, nine months after An Lushan, a half Chinese and half Sogodian, rebelled; and seven months after Du Fu was captured by the rebels. He felt sorrowful, missing his family, as “a letter from home is worth a thousand pounds.” Before COVID, I went back to China with my kids once a year, sometimes I started to take it for granted, and thought it was not a big deal, and sometimes I thought that I did not want to go back to China for a while. But now I miss these days that we can freely travel, and my mom can freely visit us. This separation with uncertainty about the future is really painful.

 

Du Fu expressed personal sorrow, but also showed his sympathy over the destructed states and miserable people caused by the political disaster. At his later life, Du Fu and his family settled in a thatched hut in modern Chengdu, Sichuan, China. One day the roof of the thatch was first blown off by winds and then stolen by boys. Without warm clothes and a dry place to live, he worried about the soaking of the long night. His personal worries somehow urged him to worry about common people, even more:

 

If only I could get a great mansion of a million rooms,

broadly covering the poor scholars of all the world,

all with joyous expressions,

unshaken by storms,

as stable as a mountain.

Alas, when will I see such a roof looming before my eyes?

then I would think it all right

if my cottage alone were ruined

and I suffered death by freezing.[7]

 

 Du Fun, “A Song on How My Thatched Roof Was Ruined by the Autumn Wind”

 

This worrying and caring sense among the learned men is part of Chinese tradition, maybe it was driven by surviving harsh natural disasters, or driven by the desire to live eternally, but it clearly enriched the intellect’s sense of community, which had been summarized by Fan Zhongyan (989-1052) in his famous essay “Records of the Yueyang Tower”:

 

Worry should be before,

and joy must be after

those of the people.

 

The Yueyang Tower is a historical site located at modern Yueyang, Hunan. In 1044, Teng Zijing became the local governor, started to rebuild this tower, and invited his friend Fan Zhongyan to memorialize this event. On the 15th day of the 9th lunar month in 1046 A.D., Fan, a Chinese poet, writer, politician, philosopher, and military strategist, completed his essay. It soon became so well-known that any educated Chinese can recite some parts or the entire piece, and the two sentences quoted above always stand out. Fan Zhongyan carried on the caring tradition in his words, people who loved his words and recited his words also carried on the tradition: care about others.

 

Does America have the existing registration which allows the intellect practice and imply the sense of caring? Does caring about others hurt or hinder democracy? Can we all wear masks to protect not just ourselves but also the elders who are more venerable to the creepy germ? To protect the colored who are not been taken care of due to the lack of medical treatment? To protect our next generations who might spread the disease further?

 

Actually yes! I have been nourished by history and literature, so I spent time on finding inspiration from the past, I am glad I found the everlasting sense of caring. What also excites me is that I am not alone searching, and caring is not a Chinese remedy, nor humanities. Recently a science paper by Drs. Jeff Toney and Stephanie Ishock called my attention. They examined the 1890 Russian Flu and compared it with COVID, and concluded as following:

 

“The pandemic that has rocked the core of our society, ripping us apart, can become an opportunity to bring us closer together and slow down or completely avoid the next wave of this pandemic. As technology advances toward safe, effective vaccines and antiviral therapies, human nature will remain the same. In the end, empathy and the resolve to protect one another could be the most important factors in saving as many lives as possible.”[8]

 

“Empathy” and “protect one another” are caring! WE, historian, politician, poets, scientists, Chinese, and American, are reaching the same goal through different routes. Let’s care, show care, demonstrate care, and promote care. If not now, then when?! 

Poverty: Too Poor to Think of Tomorrow

A movie changed me, for good, on how to understand poverty.

Last night I watched a Hong Kong romantic movie called A Moment of Romance. It is more tragic than romantic. A handsome young man became an orphan right after he was born, as his mother, a prostitute at a ghetto, threw herself off a window after delivering her baby. Not surprisingly, she did not know who her baby's father was. His life in a way is a miracle. He grew up into a skillful motorcyclist and of course a royal gangster. During one mission, he kidnapped a young and rich girl. She fell in love with him, at first he tried to avoid her, but later accepted her. Their relationship then irritated her strong-willed mother, who requested police to arrest him. She made a deal with her mom, that police have to release him and she will go to Canada with her parents. On the day she is leaving, he fought for his brother who was killed by rivals and got seriously wounded. When he realized that she was leaving, he visited her to see her off. She would rather stay with him, so he robbed a wedding gown for her and a wedding suite for himself. They drove to a church, he asked her to pray for the life she wants. When she was praying, he left for revenge for his brother and died on the street. 

I told the story with tears to my kids, ten years old Dingwen uttered one word: poverty. Seven years old Dingyan kept asking questions. mom, why can't they stay together? Because he had to fight, and he knew he might not have tomorrow. Why can't he find a job and not fight? His loyalty to his peers and his experience made it hard to move out of the gang. He was also too poor to start a new life. Can her parents help him? Even if they helped him, it is just one poor kid getting reduced from poverty, how about other thousands of poor people? He finally got quiet for a while, before falling asleep he said, " This is so sad, mom."

It is really sad. Especially when a very cute and loving couple had to be separated by reality, the cruelty and pain are unbearable. it is also sad for anyone to look at it. We all know that some poor people live off garbage, did we pay any attention to them? We try to wipe that image A.S.A.P. It is too painful to look at poverty. 

We can plan for the future, we can build a long term goal and work toward it with a daily schedule, while there are a group of people, who cannot imagine any day after today; to whom, love is luxury, how they can sustain that relationship? They are too poor to think of tomorrow, let alone dream and love. 

This might be the case for any poor in any country, including the USA. they have no motivation to live on a so-called more meaningful life, they don't even know what it is. they are not prepared by both family and society to live differently, they have to live based on day to day basis, future to them is just another yesterday. 

If they are not prepared to change, and if we feel painful to look at them, who will change the situation? If the situation remains the same, and after we know the existence of poverty, how can we continue enjoying what we have without guilty? Why some people own so much and others have so little? Don't assume the poor are poor because they did not work hard. Don't assume the rich are rich because they deserve it. Millions of people suffer poverty every second, it is hard to convince me that millions of human beings are lazy. 

There must be solutions. One of them must be education-related. Imagine if all education is free, K-12 and higher. The poor and the rich can equally enjoy the beautiful, spacious, and resourceful campus, and breathe freely the charm and power of knowledge and innovation. I am starting to get excited, I believe free education is one of the many solutions to help reduce poverty. Can we eliminate poverty? I want to while knowing it might be hard. Education, however, can lift poverty,  can change people's mindsets, and can bring the world hope. 

新冠，大學，平等

新冠和以往的病毒有什麼不同，我不知道，但是我能感受到它們的相同，就是迫使人們在與他人保持距離的同時不停地思考。

昨晚給孩子念《尼爾斯騎鵝旅行記》，念到牧鵝女的故事，說的就是一家人在一場瘟疫中的思考。父親和母親救濟了一位病人，隨後他們的孩子一個接一個地去世，父親不理解，他們做了善事，為什麼上帝會懲罰他們？他逃到了北部薩米人居住區，依舊精神萎靡，而且拒絕接觸兒童。母親帶著牧鵝女和弟弟離開家鄉，不久母親也去世了，姐弟兩相依為命，偶然的機會聽了一場關於瘟疫的講座，他們決定尋找父親，告訴他不是上帝放棄了他們，而是瘟疫橫行。在尋找父親的路上，弟弟也走了。最終女孩找到父親，一起回家了。

故事到這就結束了，其實還可以繼續，為什麼上帝允許瘟疫橫行？難道上帝要放棄人類了嗎？為什麼呢？人類做錯什麼了嗎？否則呢？事實上，文藝復興的到來就是人們面對瘟疫的思考，不停地思考，思考人類被病毒蹂躪時上帝在哪。

新冠讓我們不停地思考，新冠之後會發生什麼，我們暫時還不知道，但是這不妨礙我們繼續思考。

作為大學老師，作為終身未曾離開校園的人，我以為自己很了解大學，很了解校園。可是病毒給了我機會去重新認識自以為極其熟悉的事物。

大學當然是學生學習知識的地方，問題是什麼知識，誰來決定。如果學生為了就業，選擇實用的專業，大學是不是該提供他們需要的專業？什麼專業實用呢？今年實用，明年呢？如果不依實用性來決定知識內容，又該依靠什麼呢？文學，宗教，哲學，音樂，藝術，外語，相繼失去吸引力，相繼失去存在的可能，這些人文科學真的就該在市場面前消失嗎？是我們，教育工作者，告訴學生他們該學些什麼？還是學生，像消費者一樣，選擇專業？選擇知識？我們怎麼才能幫助學生為未來做好精神上和技能上準備？大學到底該教授什麼？誰來決定？我已經茫然了。

校園，我太熟悉了，我人生的大半時間都在校園度過，這裏是我工作的地方，教書的地方，與同事交流思想的地方，為學生舉辦活動的地方，是期待思想碰撞的地方，是每年兩次歡迎新學生的地方，是時時刻刻聽到新的看法的地方。這我很熟悉很熟悉。直到有一天。

春假結束後都是網課，我每週給每個班上一次即時授課（live session）， 很多學生選擇上課但不露臉，我很不理解。最後一堂課，我鼓勵大家全部使用視頻，有幾個學生響應，有幾個學生告訴我不使用的原因。聽後，我，大吃一驚。有的學生家裏沒有網絡，有的學生沒有電腦，有的學生和父母生活在一室一廳的公寓里。

對他們來說，校園是學習知識的地方，但更是他們的象牙塔。他們可以和任何人一起坐在教室，在教室，每個人都可以暫時把他的家放在遠處，把他的煩惱和壓力留在校外，在教室，沒有階層，沒有差距，沒有不同，即時有，當代大學就是要用知識用精神抹去所有的不對等，然後，每個人都可以和其他人一樣平等地坐在一起學習、成長。

對他們來說，校園是和朋友一起學習一起消磨時光的地方，是平等享受現代資訊的地方，是平等接受新思想、新觀點的地方，是被鼓勵著平等地夢想未來的地方。不管家裏有多狹小，校園是平等地屬於他們的，他們可以在寬敞的空間里忘卻所有的不平等。

聽了他們的故事，我很慚愧，為了自己的淺薄和幼稚。我開始希望學校早日開放，即使局部開放，因為有的學生需要開放的校園，需要給他們平等和夢想的空間。

病毒和黄皮肤

鼎言有表演天赋。他会唱歌，喜欢”跳”，爱给大家讲故事，很擅长挑动任何人的神经，可能会让你笑，也可能会让你闹。一直以为他跟我一样，粗线条，没心没肺。可是昨天晚上和他的对话让我重新了解七岁的孩子，了解他在疫情中的困惑。
我：言言，长大了当演员吧，给大家带去欢乐。
言：可以啊，可是我不会出名。
我：为什么这么说？
言：因为我的肤色。
我：肤色怎么啦？
言：他们不会喜欢我。
我：有人因为你的肤色不喜欢你吗？
言：没有。
我：那你现在怎么会担心？
言：因为Covid-19。

他的年龄应该是无忧无虑的，是病毒改变了他？还是我一直忽视了他？学校复学的时候，希望我的孩子不会遭受任何因为他们的肤色引起的歧视。

Padamic and Yellow Skins

My seven years old younger son is fun, happy, and talented. He likes to sing, dance, or more jump around, he plays piano and karate, enjoys drawing, and loves to tell stories. He is also very good at hitting anyone's nerve, some times for laugh and some times for angry.
Last night I told him, “how about becoming an actor? So you can entertain people as you are good at.”
He said, “I like it, but I won’t be famous.”
I said, “who said that? Why do you think so?”
He said, “because of my skin.”
“What?”
“Yes, the yellow skin.”
“More than one-fifth of the world population are yellow, why is it an issue?”
“Because of the Covid-19”
My heart was broken.
When school finally reopens, I hope my kids won’t face any painful moments posed by others simply for their skin color.

Cultural Thoughts over the Virus Fighting

 When the infected number and the death toll in New York City rose rapidly and surpassed China's numbers, many people started to question the numbers provided by the Chinese government. This question is legitimate, and I am one of many people, especially considering that these numbers are crucial for the world to understand this virus, collect ways to fight it, and save lives.

While being frustrated and eager to know the number, I realize that this emotion associated with the question could prevent us to be calm and to learn from Chinese people and their culture in terms of fighting the virus. 

Parts of China have been back to normal and schools will reopen soon, which does not mean that China completely tamed the virus, but it could mean that they found ways to control it. What are these ways? What can we learn from them? 

First of all, China had a complete lockdown, no one can go out and no one can come in. Let’s leave privacy and human rights issues alone, and focus only on how China could make the lockdown possible, physically. In the US, we occasionally see some communities have fences, and some might have intercoms. Not all universities have fences, most of them are open to the public, and each campus only has one or two guarded gates to control traffic. In China, however, each unit, such as a residential, official, or business complex, has its own enclosed territory with guarded gates. Once the government issued the lockdown, all these guards were quickly mobilized to control not just the gates, but the people inside and outside of the community. This enclosed territory with guarded gates is not a modern invention. First, let’s look at the character of the country, 國,  the outside is an enclosure 口, and the inside is an independent character, 或 meaning “state.” This inside character is the combination of a character of “state” 口 in the shape of the mouth and a character of “weapon” 戈. Therefore, the word of “the country” has three parts, but representing only two essential elements: weapon and walls. Not just a state needs fences, this enclosed space and walled concept extended to any city, village, and family. The First Emperor did not build the Great Wall from the ground up, instead, his contribution was to connect the existing walls or fences. I left China for Madison, Wisconsin in 1998, when I returned in 2005, it took me a while to find the entrance of the community that I grew up in, simply because they moved the guarded gate from the east to the south, so I had to encircle the entire block to find the gate. 

Second, in China and other East Asian countries, they tracked down each patient and publicized that person’s routines until the moment. In this way, the entire community knows where the infected person went, whoever had an overlapping journey with the person should take immediate action to prevent the virus from spreading further. While in the US, disclosing patient information is against law, so when I was told that one of the employees at my kid’s daycare was tested positive, I, simultaneously with the other kids’ parents, felt worried and panicked. We could not help but guess who the person was, whether our kids had close contacts with the person, and what we should do next. I love America, I love all its values such as human rights, privacy, and freedom, but that was the moment I was forced to think about the relationship between individualism and collectivism: under what circumstance does an individual need to sacrifice his or her privacy for the safety of the community? How much sacrifice does that individual need to make? How much freedom does an individual possess? It seems so essential to fighting the virus successfully, that the people in East Asia followed the lockdown order and coped with publicizing individual journey. They were stuck inside their small apartments for months, and only one member of a household was allowed to go outside to purchase the necessities once in a while. Again, this tolerance and obedience cannot happen overnight. Considering the fact that every half year during China’s over-three-millennia history, there was a major natural disaster, such as flood, locust, and epidemic, an idea struck me that the collective society may not be the result of centralized government, instead, the centralized government was the result of the collective culture, that means facing the frequently happened disaster, people had no choice but to act collectively, in order to survive. 

Third, everyone in Asia wears a mask when they go out. The history of masks is a needed research topic. But before it is done, let’s talk about the contemporary development of the mask. When I moved from western China, Urumqi of Uygur to central China, Taiyuan of Shanxi, I started to wear a white fabric mask every day and washed it every night. I still remember how dirty the white mask turned at the end of the day. So wearing a mask in the 70s and 80s was an efficient way to fight air pollution. The air quality might be improved over the next decades, but SARS, overpopulation, and crowded public spaces and transportation forced people in East Asia to wear masks continuously. In the US, people did not experience the damage caused by the SARS or H1N1, did not experience severe air pollution, and most people live in suburbs without dense populations, so wearing a mask is a symbol of being sick. That is why we saw hundreds of American police officers and medical professionals get COVID-19, even though they have close contact with patients, they were not used to wearing masks, so they did not.

So what are the inspirations from the practices in China: for individuals, keep social distance as much as we can, and wear a mask in public, even a fabric one; for government, test as fast as possible to identify as many positives as possible. This virus is bringing a revolution, it is not just testing our hygiene habits and our public health system, but also challenging our political system and cultural values. This is the moment we, all human beings, have to think about the relationships between nature and humans, between individuals and society, and between people and government. We also have to think about what life we like to live, what are the values that we cannot live without and that we like to wrap them well and hand to our children.