Adventures in China

Objectification is a rather strange concept. It is generally considered to be the act of seeing a person only for their attributes and not for the person that they are. However, the attributes we consider to be objectifying are rather arbitrary. As Americans, we usually feel uncomfortable with objectification around gender or race, though few of us get uncomfortable making assumptions about someone based on their religion, volunteer experience, or political party affiliation. So, in general, we seem to feel uncomfortable about things someone "didn't choose," but feel comfortable making assumptions based on things we think they did choose.

In China, people are far more comfortable with objectification based on race, gender, place of birth, or job status than we are in the US. There is no public awareness, in China, that racism and sexism are limiting to a lot of people and to society.

Racism is hard to battle in a place that isn't very racially diverse. However, foreigners and minorities within China become acutely aware of it. The racial minorities within China are having a particularly difficult time, right now. After years of trying to live in relatively closed communities, the Chinese government has given these minorities the right to have two children per couple instead of one. This move did not increase the size of these minority groups, but it did make them very attractive marriage partners to the Han majority, so the groups are being diluted out into the larger population. There is a lot of tension between the older members of these groups who want to maintain their closed communities and their children who see better opportunities if they marry someone who is Han.

China was the first time I experienced objectification based on my skin coloring. I can't claim that it gave me a real understanding of what it must be like to be racially discriminated against in the US, but I did learn a few things. I learned what it feels like to always be aware that your skin color is different. I learned what it feels like to always look out of place. I learned what it is to be judged on my value based on skin color, but that judgment was usually positive, not negative. It meant people looked at me with curiosity or envy, though a few turned that envy into aggression. It meant people overcharged me. It meant people called their kids to come see me when I walked down the street. A friend called me "the Luoyang Mariah Carey" because I was as noticeable as a pop star.

I can't say it is a life I'd choose.

I had experienced gender based discrimination and assumptions in the United States, but not to the extent I experienced it there. I was never allowed to carry my own bags. My entourage to the train station included a female translator, a driver, and a man to carry my bags. The women in my office finally decided that the reason I didn't wear heels wasn't because I didn't like them, as I said, but because it would make me taller than my boyfriend. It was assumed I would miss my family because of my age and my gender. It was assumed I wouldn't know how to pump my own bicycle tires because of my gender. Men were always astounded and uncomfortably intrigued to see me drink alcohol.

You know, the United States still has a lot of improving to do, too, but I sure am glad to be back.