Yanwen’s blog

While on a video call with my family, I was playing a short Russian sentence at a low volume. To my surprise, my youngest brother-in-law heard it and asked if I was learning Russian. I asked him if he knew Russian, curious about his familiarity with the language.

It turned out that, during the early 1960s, he had lived with his aunt and uncle in Northeast China, where his aunt taught Russian. At that time, Russian was the most commonly taught foreign language in China. Can you imagine that now?

This emphasis on Russian language was due to two main factors. First, China was completely isolated by a U.S.-led blockade that included severe sanctions—far more restrictive than what we see today on Russia. There were no cultural, educational, economic, or diplomatic ties with West European countries, and, of course, no internet.

France broke the trend in 1964, becoming the first major Western power to establish full diplomatic relations with China at the ambassadorial level, under President Charles de Gaulle. The U.S. followed suit 15 years later, and other Western powers gradually did the same.

Second, following the founding of the PRC, China developed a close political, cultural, and economic relationship with the Soviet Union. The Russian Embassy in Beijing was said to be one of the largest embassies in the world. During this period, there were numerous Russian experts and projects throughout China, creating a strong demand for the Russian language. The Chinese government prioritized Russian language education to facilitate collaboration in fields like education, science, technology, and economics.

However, this focus on Russian shifted after the Sino-Soviet split in the early 1960s, which culminated in the Sino-Russian border clashes in 1969. English slowly gained prominence, especially after China joined the United Nations as a permanent Security Council member in 1971.

But the transition to English wasn’t immediate. In the 1970s, when I first started learning English, the abridged versions of English classics that I read were actually written, published in Russia and imported from there.

A Chinese saying goes, "三十年河东，三十年河西" (Sānshí nián hé dōng, sānshí nián hé xī) means "Thirty years on the east bank of the river, thirty years on the west bank." This saying emphasizes that circumstances can change drastically over time and the cyclical nature of power. It reflects how language priorities in China shifted from Russian to English over the decades, mirroring broader political and cultural transformations.

A shift in linguistic focus mirrors China's changing alliances and global position. While English dominates today, the echoes of Russian remind us of a time when China's circumstances were very different. As the saying goes, “Thirty years on the east bank, thirty years on the west”—a reminder that nothing is fixed, and the world and its priorities are always evolving.

This piece is dedicated to the generation of my children, so they can understand the past we lived through.

There are a few things I still don’t have answers for. Every day, on my way to the YMCA fitness center, I drive by the HERRC shelter (Humanitarian Emergency Response and Relief Centers), a facility for the homeless. Outside the large compound, there are always plenty of people sitting, standing, or squatting. One thing stands out to me: I’ve never seen a white face there. The crowd is mostly Black, with some Hispanic, and occasionally an Asian face. I wonder why.

Curious, I asked someone who fits the description of a typical "白左" (bái zuǒ), a Chinese internet slang term for "white left" or left-leaning liberals in the West. It’s often used in a somewhat mocking way to describe people perceived as overly idealistic or naive in their views on social justice, immigration, or equality.

They offered me several possible explanations for the demographics I’ve noticed at the shelter.

First and foremost, systemic inequality is often blamed. The disproportionate number of Black and brown individuals in shelters can be traced back to long-standing systemic racism. African American and Hispanic communities have historically faced greater barriers to economic mobility, education, and housing. Redlining, discriminatory lending, and unequal access to jobs have compounded these challenges over time, making these populations more vulnerable to homelessness.

Second, stark racial disparities in poverty rates exacerbate the issue. Black and Hispanic people in the U.S. are more likely to live below the poverty line than their white counterparts, and since homelessness is closely tied to extreme poverty, it disproportionately affects these groups.

Third, homelessness and incarceration are often linked. African Americans, in particular, are overrepresented in the criminal justice system. After incarceration, many face significant barriers to reentering society, including employment and housing discrimination, leaving many with no option but the streets or shelters.

Fourth, the presence of Hispanic individuals at the shelter could be related to undocumented immigration status or language barriers. These factors limit access to stable work and housing, increasing the likelihood of homelessness.

This reasoning feels all too familiar, reminding me of what I read in sociology textbooks back in the early 1990s when I was a teaching assistant at Bowling Green State University in Ohio. The idea that "the system is to blame" for many personal problems was pervasive. At the time, I was confused: 

-- Didn’t American culture value rugged individualism and personal responsibility? Wasn’t the prevailing notion that if you're poor, you’re responsible for it? That’s what I had learned about American society during my college years in China. I also knew that Asian Americans faced racial discrimination, yet they were largely thriving in the U.S. because society offered them opportunities to work hard and succeed.

Finally, the reasons behind the racial disparities in homelessness are complex with historical, social, and economic factors. While I don't know how much role systemic inequality plays here, I know it takes both sides to work on this social problem or to get anything done: societal structures and individual responsibility.

On Sept 29, I wrote a piece on the book The Next 100 Years: A Forecast for the 21st Century by George Friedman (2009). 

George Friedman’s 2009 prediction about China in 2020 offers three potential paths, which is an interesting reflection, especially now that it’s 2024 and many of his forecasts did not materialize as expected. He presented three paths for China: (1) perpetual growth, (2) recentralization, (3) fragmentation along regional lines. He think the third one is the most likely outcome.

"A third possibility is that under the stress of an economic downturn, China fragments along traditional regional lines, while the central government weakens and becomes less powerful. Traditionally, this is a more plausible scenario in China--and one that will benefit the wealthier classes as well as foreign investors. It will leave China in the position it was in prior to Mao, with regional competition and perhaps even conflict and a central government struggling to maintain control. If we accept the fact that China's economy will have to undergo a readjustment at some point, and that this will generate serious tension, as it would in any country, then this third outcome fits most closely with reality and with Chinese history." Pp. 98-99

Friedman correctly anticipated the slowdown of China's astronomical growth rates. However, the slow growth has not resulted in the catastrophic economic collapse or fragmentation of the country that Friedman predicted. 

Instead, the Chinese government has managed this slowdown through many measures like stimulating domestic consumption, innovation, and initiatives like the Belt and Road Initiative 2013 (BRI),  which has vast extended China's economic influence globally.

Friedman suggests that an economic slowdown would lead to fragmentation, with the central government unable to maintain control due to conflicting interests within its ranks. He believed recentralization was nearly impossible, especially with internal factions opposing it. 

However, instead of weakening, China’s central government has consolidated power, particularly through the anti-corruption campaign initiated in 2012, which helped curb internal conflicts, and Poverty Elimination campaign in 2012, These efforts, reinforced central authority and allowed China to navigate these challenges more effectively and peacefully.

Friedman’s main argument is that China’s unity hinges on economic growth, but he significantly underestimated the collective desire for national unity. 

His 2009 prediction has missed key initiatives like anti-corruption, poverty eradication, and the Belt and Road Initiative (BRI). 

The most critical factor that he failed to see is the deeply ingrained wish of the Chinese people for peace, unity and sovereignty. Historically, they have resisted foreign domination and fragmentation. It’s not merely one-person's leadership but the shared national consciousness that sustains China’s stability, especially in light of current wars in other parts of the world.

A Chinese saying for Friedman’s failed prediction, "坐井观天" (zuò jǐng guān tiān), means "sitting in a well and viewing the sky." It implies having a limited or narrow perspective, akin to Friedman's underestimation of China's resilience and capacity for self-correction. His prediction was based on a narrow understanding of China's dynamics, overlooking its historical continuity and the collective will for unity, much like the frog at the bottom of the well seeing only a small part of the sky.

In hindsight, Friedman underestimated China's capacity for recentralization and overestimated the likelihood of fragmentation. As a result, he failed to see China's ability for self-correction, demonstrated by initiatives like anti-corruption and poverty eradication. 

While China still faces significant challenges, its 2024 situation is far more stable and optimistic than Friedman predicted. As China just celebrated the 75th anniversary of its independence on October the first, his analysis serves as a reminder that the complexities of a country with China's long history and culture often defy straightforward forecasts.

Last year, while jogging outside, I met a couple from Shanghai. The wife greeted me in Chinese, and during our conversation, the husband casually remarked, "You must be in your 70s now." The wife quickly teased him, saying, "How can you say that? She's in her 50s."

Whether I'm in my 50s or 70s is beside the point. What stood out was the wife’s openness, sharpness, social awareness. She understood the delicacy of commenting on a woman's age and responded playfully, using tact and grace to gently correct her husband without causing any social awkwardness.

In contrast, the husband seemed oblivious to the social etiquette surrounding age. His comment was blunt, suggesting he might either be more straightforward or less attuned to such nuances.

The difference between the wife’s social savvy and her husband's directness also suggests that she’s still mentally sharp, showing no signs of decline.

Yesterday I ran into the wife again recently at the YMCA, where she mentioned that she no longer drives and that her husband has taken over. She admitted she's out of practice, having not driven for several years.

This reminded me of my children’s grandparents. The grandfather used to joke, "I’m unemployed at home," because the grandmother took care of everything. Sadly, the result was that he developed dementia in his 70s, while the grandmother, who stayed active, outlived him by nearly 20 years.

A Chinese saying fits this context perfectly: "脑子不用会生锈" (Nǎozi bù yòng huì shēngxiù) — "If you don’t use your brain, it will rust." This emphasizes the importance of keeping the mind active. Even at home, staying engaged and active helps delay mental and physical decline. The brain, like any tool, deteriorates when unused.

Ultimately, this reinforces a key point: staying active, even in daily small ways, can help delay both mental and physical decline in old age, keeping both the mind and body sharp through daily activities.

Let me share a real-life story. A young man, noticing his mother spending most of her day on her cellphone, said to her, "Mom, you could try something like painting, drawing, or writing instead of being on your phone all day." His mother responded, "You’re an artist and can draw well, but I can't."

This conversation reminds me of my youngest sister and her son. Years ago, after she retired at 55 (the retirement age for women in China), her son suggested they read the same book and discuss it together as a way to keep her mentally sharp and engaged.

Both moments reveal something profound about life. The son's genuine concern for his mother is heartwarming, reflecting a role reversal that often occurs as children grow. His suggestion shows not only his maturity but also a shift in perspective—from being cared for to caring for his parent.

On a broader level, the son's words hold a message for all of us: how we choose to spend our time, a resource we all possess equally. 

Engaging in creative activities like drawing or writing isn’t about doing it perfectly, isn't about becoming a famous artist or writer; it’s about the joy and fulfillment that comes from the process, it's about keeping ourselves meaningfully engaged, it's about being a creator rather than a consumer. 

Ultimately, these acts of creation offer a sense of meaning and accomplishment far beyond what can be gained from passively scrolling through a phone.

A Chinese saying goes, "活到老，学到老" (Huó dào lǎo, xué dào lǎo): learn as long as you live. It emphasizes the importance of lifelong learning and engagement and the belief that one should continually seek out new experiences and knowledge, no matter their age.

Finally, creative expression—regardless of skill level—adds far more value to life than mindless distractions ever could.