Youthology, "2022:  The Year in Review"

Youthology’s Year in Review: “Growing up on the Margins”[1]

Introduction and Translation by David Ownby
 
Introduction

Youthology is a Chinese marketing company that attempts to connect brands to young people and young people to brands, and as a part of their business publishes articles on youth issues on their blog.  I previously translated a Youthology post on how young people in Shanghai were dealing with the lockdown in the Spring of 2022.
 
The text translated here is Youthology’s “Year in Review,” once again of course written from the perspective of China’s young urbanites.  The central theme is hardly surprising:  everything and everyone were pushed to the “margins” in 2022 by the epic fight against the coronavirus.  The text is relentlessly bleak, as is surely fitting, but it is nonetheless interesting to read how Chinese young people describe the bleak experiences they have lived through, focusing on work, gender, and cultural issues in a way I imagine would resonate with youth experiences elsewhere in the world at the worst moments of the pandemic.  The authors use the newly coined word TA们 (tamen), a gender-neutral pronoun for “them” which I had not seen before.  They talk about the terrible job market, and the temptation of taking the civil service exam and getting a secure job with benefits.  They devote a lot of attention to gender violence. They talk about despair and craziness (mostly of the letting-off-steam variety—click on the images here for a taste).  They talk about the environment.
 
They do not talk about the China Dream or about state discourse on covid—or state discourse on anything, for that matter. 
 
Translation 
 
But We Can't Stop Yearning for a Diverse World 
 
Only four more days, and 2022 will be over. "Good riddance, 2022!” We are yearning to leave all the bad things about 2022 behind, and get our lives back in order as soon as possible, although we may despair, wondering whether such a thing is really possible. 
 
Looking back, the year 2022 was both shocking and silent. We try to describe it, but are infected with a condition we might call "wordless silence." So we long to discover the vitality of life in the midst of decay, even if the faint sound waves we are following lead us to the margins.  Because of the biting chill coming from the market, everyone is eager to choose a secure career path, and eccentric mavericks are out of fashion. The margins no longer speak to possibilities or independence, but say instead either your family has a coal mine家里有矿[2] or you’ve got bupkis.  When uniform voices press in from all sides - from TV to social media, from school textbooks to variety shows, from grandparents to children's homework - spaces  of diversity become distant memories. Those at the margins are not only vulnerable, but can readily become "mistakes" that must be discarded at any time. 
 
Yet, even at the margins, people are still trying to grow. Some people have retreated from the elite-heavy East coast to the relatively relaxed Southwest; some have given up the joys of the Internet and joined the real offline world; some have abandoned the stability and support of institutions and organizations and joined spontaneous civil groups; some have left mainstream social media platforms to seek reality in different voices; some have left mainstream discourse behind to become part of minority groups that few people know about. Of course, there are also people who thought they were just fine, but who suddenly found that the margins came looking for them, or found that part of what had once been their normal life was now asking too much or asking for something they shouldn’t, which means they can only enjoy those things stealthily, in private. Far from the centers of power and wealth, far from the centers of orthodoxy, the margins, if lucky enough to escape disturbance or destruction for a time, can become a valuable spiritual reserve.  Thus at the end of 2022, we chose "growing at the margins" as the theme of our annual project. This essay looks back at ourselves and all of those[3] who have slipped to the margins this year, as well as at all of the forces of difference that are striving to grow. 
 
All paths are verging toward the margins 
 
The margins of life 
 
For too much of this past year, we have been living in a world whose priorities were upside down. From the beginning of 2022 through November, the series of epidemics and lockdowns occurring across the country tugged at all of our heartstrings via the Internet. We have felt the stress of hoarding food and competing for food; we have all been worried that old people or children in our families would not receive medical care when ill; we have experienced the helplessness of having our apartment complexes locked down, our trips cancelled, and our plans disrupted…things already decided were suddenly suspended and things not yet done were put on hold. Once upon a time, the daily life with which we were familiar was concrete, knowable, and controllable, while now what we once took to be “exceptions” make up our entire lives.  Whether something is "necessary" or "not necessary" has become the criteria by which all students measure everything they do.  With the Big Whites [i.e., the health care personnel in their white haz-mat suits] ready to order people about at the drop of a hat, it was easy to be reprimanded for eating or drinking or just being out and about as part of daily life.  The dinners, parties, and visits that are documented in contact tracing can become "undesirable" behaviors that prompt public criticism. The idea of going away at the drop of a hat became a stupid joke.  Is it really true that once upon a time you could travel when classes were out?   Going on a trip took incredible courage and luck, requiring infinite flexibility and calm in the face of chaos.  The cancellation of Airbnb and the Lonely Planet in China triggered countless memories, all of which tell us that an era is passing.
 
The margins of spirit
 
When we think back on 2022 as a whole, our most common emotions, which once were optimistic and positive, are no more, and have been replaced by negative feelings of malaise, fear and depression. A topic that has been brought up over and over again this year is "my political depression:” getting intense doses of negative news, to the point of soaking in a bath of such news every day; consumed by emotions of loss and anger, looking at the future and feeling trapped and desperate, as if the boundless darkness before us is a foregone conclusion. We have explored many ways to combat political depression, such as absorbing the news only at certain times and in certain doses, having more real-world contact with friends in the same stratosphere 同温层, developing hobbies that can be more closely integrated with daily life, and so on. But we all know that all of this only serves to divide our attention, and does not address the root cause of our fears. The main theme in promoting positive energy is still grounded in treating anything that is not positive, any emotion not moving you forward, as an abnormal state: you can be depressed, but in moderation; you can be angry, but must learn to control it; you can lie flat, but must get back on your feet; you can "twist and squirm, and crawl in the dark,"[4] but it is better to put a positive spin on things and do it in the light.  A person's marginal emotions must remain in the sunlight, bearing the stings of negative energy and betrayal.  
 
The margins of gender
 
Structural gender violence continued in 2022, and women's voices, women's actions, and women's perspectives remained on the margins of public events we care about. At the end of January, the case of Little Huamei, a woman from Feng County, Jiangsu, attracted a great deal of social attention.  This was virtually the first time that the public systematically understood and cared about the social problem of trafficking and abduction of women in rural areas, and the "iron chain" attaching Huamei to the wall of the outbuilding became a symbol that remained embedded in the hearts of countless people. In June, the Tangshan restaurant incident exploded on social media, and, just as in the Lhamo case, people once again reflected on the existence of gender violence, which poses a huge threat to the safety of women in public and private spaces. In September, the fact that “sanitary napkins are not for sale on high speed trains” became a red-hot discussion among netizens.  The idea that women’s discomfort and sanitary napkins are not something that can be discussed in polite society laid bare yet again the taboo of menstruation and the unequal gender culture behind it.  In the long stream of history, women have undoubtedly been silenced and omitted for far too long.   This led us to put together a "2022 Women's Calendar" to record those things that happened to women which they could not avoid and that should be remembered…
 
The margins of work
 
Even though covid control measures are fewer and the gloom is receding, the pandemic still gets in the way. Positive infections, low labor productivity, the final sprint to finish your college degree…everything still feels really heavy, smothering those of us who are trying so hard to breathe.  In July, after the end of the lockdown [lit. the “silence 静默”], a woman named "Afan" was found living in a public toilet in the Hongqiao neighborhood of Shanghai, and she explained that "people won’t hire people who have had covid. " In late October, there was a sudden outbreak of the virus at a Zhengzhou Foxconn factory which employs more than 300,000 people, and a large number of workers concerned about their livelihood and their health chose to vote with their feet, creating the "Foxconn exodus." This year is also truly the worst in terms of finding a job, layoffs, unemployment, pretending to go to work…People graduating from university waver between looking for a job, going to grad school, or taking the civil service exam.  Passing the civil service exam is seen as “climbing ashore” (上岸, slang for “returning to the state sector”), which is now seen as the only successful way to get a handle on your life. 
 
The margins of culture
 
The longing for globalization seems to be a thing of the past. What we are facing now is not only indifference to the culture of other countries, but sometimes even hatred for these cultures. Remember the girl who went out dressed in a kimono in mid-August? No one could tell her why she had her clothes confiscated in the middle of a busy street; no one could tell her why "wearing a kimono" had suddenly become a crime. Do you remember all the concerts that were cancelled, one after another?  And no one could explain to us why being a foreigner got you banned.  Things coming from abroad are seen as dregs, yet the seeds of [Chinese] culture do not seem to have taken root and blossomed in the soil beneath our feet. In 2022, we heard too many stories of bookstores, live houses, theaters, publishers, and other cultural spaces and institutions being forced to shut down or suspend operations, and private charitable organizations have had a very hard time. Once thriving cultures have been bent to the point of breaking.
 
The movie industry has clearly gone through a cold spell over the last little while. After Tian Xiaopeng 田晓鹏, the director of the animated film "Deep Sea, “posted a few "I’m feeling a bit sad" messages on social media, we learned that several completed films had not been approved for release.  In October, we witnessed theatrical films such as "Return to Dust" being taken off of major streaming platforms for various reasons. In November, no new movie was released in cinemas for over a month. We know that behind the screen, there is always an invisible red line drawing a circle, and the size of the circle is shrinking fast.
 
The margins of the environment
 
The smoke of distant wars has not yet dissipated, and natural disasters closer at hand are looming in the near future.  The summer of 2022 brought home to us the reality of global warming.  June brought one of the harshest summers we've had in a long time. Heat waves swept across the northern hemisphere, with temperatures breaking decades-old records in many places. Persistent heat and drought triggered massive forest fires, and the Yangzi River basin suffered its worst drought since 1961 due to high temperatures and lack of rain. Sichuan and Chongqing faced high temperatures, rolling blackouts, and mountain fires, with abnormally low water levels in rivers and blazing fires lighting up the red sky. Those hardest hit by the climate crisis are yet again the relatively marginalized groups in society, the outdoor workers who suffer from heat stroke or the industries and households in the suburbs and towns that are more dependent on electricity. Some species have become extinct, and on July 21, the International Union for Conservation of Nature updated its Red List of Globally Threatened Species, officially declaring the white sturgeon to be no more.
 
Youth at the margins
 
When they “consider themselves lucky,”[5] when they lose their job, when they experience sudden death, when they are brave… 
 
Yet we cannot stop yearning for a world of diversity. 
 
Yet we cannot stop yearning for a world of diversity. When we turn our attention to those who are breathing, living, and growing at the margins, perhaps we will find that 2022 was not silent after all, but rather concrete, uneven, and noisy. People are taking halting steps toward finding their center of gravity, and "breathing heavily" and "going wild in the snow"[6] have become the greatest freedoms we can have in the currently small state of our lives. Once covid controls were set aside, everyone jumped on the opportunity to take a trip, to pick wild fruit in the mountains, to swim in the rivers and streams.  Facing life at the margins, we retreat into our own physical bodies and learn to create freedom, feel freedom, and take back freedom in places where there is none.
 
In the second half of the year, "everyday madness" and "crazy literature"[7] were pursued by many young people. In real life, there are many ridiculous jokes, and the way many people choose to fight ridiculousness is to become ridiculous themselves. You can see this in the unconventional ways of fighting back, in the comments that left people scratching their heads, in the ludicrous man-in-the-street interviews; college students crawling in a circle on the sports field with their cardboard pets....Facing the spiritual margins, we dare to ask, “are we crazy?”  No, because the world is a step ahead of us.  
 
Over the course of the year, there is no doubt that there were many brave women who dared to stand up and face the evil of the world.  In February, some of them were the first to go to Feng county in Xuzhou to present flowers to Little Huamei,  writing without hesitation: "Big sister, the world has not abandoned you, because your little sisters are here." In June, after winning a UFC match, the female boxer Zhang Weili 张伟丽proudly said to the camera, "We must believe in the power of women." In September, a number of women claiming to be former students, former colleagues, and current classmates joined together to denounce the grooming and sexual harassment carried out by Du Yingzhe 杜英哲, a tutor at the Shadow Road Art Academy. They struggled to overcome psychological and emotional barriers in the process of speaking out, using #MeToo to mount a discursive resistance to unjust structures of gender power. In addition, the draft revision of the Law on the Protection of Women's Rights and Interests was twice posted online for public comment, receiving 400,000 responses the first time and 300,000 the second.  This meant that it was one of the draft laws that has received the largest number of comments in recent years, and it finally passed in significantly revised form in October.  In the face of gender marginality, we see, in their words, their struggles, their pain, their unwillingness to compromise, their complexity, their weaknesses, in the very contours of their lives...we see their magnificent hearts and their piercing strength.
 
In the coming year, we will dare to call out “bullshit jobs,” we will criticize the injustices suffered by social workers, or perhaps we will think outside the box when it comes to choosing a job. In Douban's "pushing back again social time" group, we read stories about forty year-olds who are retaking the college entrance, or a 42 year-old who is preparing to take the test for law school.  Facing the margins of work, professor Yuan Changgeng 袁长庚has said that "People can only be sure of themselves after having been misused and abused.” "Alas, the world is made up of countless non-essential things!"[8] This line has been repeated countless times this year. We understand that at times we have to stand up and demand these “non-essential things.” Even after many postponements or cancellations, people still choose to enjoy live music; the retreat of the film industry does not keep independent film festivals and theater festivals from trying to come back. But remember, there are still many cultural institutions and charitable organizations that need help. Our good friend, Dandu 单读Publishing, extended its "Defend the Unnecessary" project for another year, hoping we won't stop striving for it. Facing the margins of culture, we should echo the words of Bomi 波米, the host  of the "Bad Guy’s Movie Review:" "Those who run [i.e., leave China] should put down roots. Those who stay should not become zombies.”[9]
 
While people are hopelessly pessimistic about the future of the planet, in September this year, Yvon Chouinard, the founder of outdoor sports brand Patagonia, announced that "the earth is now our only shareholder.” He promised to transfer ownership of the company to a trust and a non-profit organization, and to reinvest the profits generated by the business to combat the climate crisis. In the face of the margins of the environment, instead of “saving the planet,” it is perhaps better, as Patagonia has said, to protect the places where we ourselves play, and to heal with action despite our pessimism. Actions speak louder than words, and that's what we give our lives for. During the lockdowns, neighborhood solidarity became the starting point for self-help; in the midst of violence and harassment against women, women's communities defend their "sisters;" in the midst of spiritual and material poverty, we find small countermeasures to resist. It is these small rebellions in life that make the margins grow. 

Notes

[1]青年志年度回顾, “但我们无法停止朝向一个多元世界生长,” posted on the Youthology WeChat feed on December 26, 2022.

[2]Translator’s note:  Internet slang for “filthy rich.”

[3]Translator’s note:  TA们 in the text.  This is inclusive Internet language signaling acceptance of gender fluidity.

[4]Translator’s note:  This is a reference to a Chinese online game, “Arknights 明日方舟.”

[5]Translator’s note:  The expression in Chinese it toule/偷乐, another example of Internet slang.  The origin of the expression is found an a press conference given by China Foreign Ministry spokesman Zhao Lijian in December of 2021, in which he said:  “You are able to live in China during the fight against the pandemic, so you should consider yourselves lucky 你们能够在抗击疫情期间，生活在中国，你们就偷着乐吧.”  It is not hard to imagine that the term subsequently became a sarcastic way to complain about various aspects of life in China.

[6]Translator’s note:  This is from the Cui Jian song Wild in the Snow/快让我在雪地上撒点儿野, which is about learning to feel again after an illness or similar experience.  “Breathing heavily” may be part of a song lyric as well, but the phrase is too common to yield useful Internet search results.

[7]Translator’s note:  This refers to nonsense language, usually expressed online.  My impression is that it may have originated in a frustrating encounter with a service provider where the customer, growing increasingly frustrated, began spouting nonsense.  The practice subsequently spread online.

[8]Translator’s note:  This is the last line of a poem by Zhu Haoyue 朱皓月, which circulated online in April of 2021 in protest of covid-restrictions that reduced life on university campuses—presumably in Shanghai—to the bare “essentials.” 

[9]Translator’s note:  Instead of “zombie,” the text uses changgui/伥鬼, “the ghost of someone who fell victim to a tiger, yet helps the tiger devour others.”