Monday, June 19, 2006

The Students

I had a marathon interview day today—11 interviews. Far from complaining about the scheduling, I’m really grateful that these students agreed to talk to me, as they’re right in the middle of final exams. Having completed my own semester exams in the not-too-distant past, the pain of it all is still fresh in my memory. And Fudan University students don’t just take 4 or 5 classes like we do at Sewanee (and most other American colleges, I think); a normal load for these kids is 10-13 classes. (Whoah!) I really am in awe of these students, truth be known. Of course they’re the cream of crop—Fudan is one of the top universities in China, and only students with the very top scores on the nation-wide college entrance examination are admitted. To give you some idea, this year’s entrance exam occurred about two weeks ago; 9.5 million high school graduates took the exam—competing for 2.6 million college slots. (It’s a huge event here; parents take off work to stand in the parking lot of the building where their child is taking the exam, construction zones near the building are shut down so they don’t disturb the test takers, the evening news offers suggestions for what parents should feed their test-taker for breakfast, this kind of thing. Everything is riding on this one exam…I can’t hardly imagine the pressure.) Fudan University has a total student population of around 25,000, which means they accept around 6,250 students each year. Six thousand, out of a pool of 9.5 million.

(I don’t mean to exclude the Yangzhou University students from my praise here. Yangzhou University is not nearly as prestigious as Fudan, but those students are doing pretty well for themselves too. I found them, if not as impressive as the Fudan students, pretty darn impressive.)

The students are without doubt intelligent, but they’re also just fun to be around. I’ve really enjoyed getting to know them, even just a little bit. Most of the interviews have been in “Chinglish,” although all of these students speak better English than I do Chinese. When I point this out, they all tell me of course their English should be better; they’ve studied it for 7+ years. It only slightly consoles me. Some of these students can discuss philosophy, cultural differences, even sociology and psychology, in English. (***nerd moment alert***Almost all of them mix up “he” and “she” at least once however—another thing that fascinates the psychology student in me. In Chinese, although the characters for “he” and “she” are different, they are pronounced the same way. When I say “he” or “she” in Chinese, I’m of course thinking in gender specifics, but apparently native Chinese speakers don’t make this cognitive distinction.) The interviews almost always begin the same way—with the student apologizing because s/he doesn’t speak very good English. By interview number 6 today, I had begun to say, “Yes, everyone tells me this, but then everyone I’ve spoken with today speaks very good English, so forgive me if I don’t believe you.” I usually at least got a smile, and only got a confused look once. Felt kind of bad about that one.

This kind of modesty I think is rooted in the traditional importance placed on modesty, and maybe a little bit in the interest of preserving face. Maybe the two are related anyway. It made me laugh though, when one of the Yangzhou students, when I complimented her on her English, immediately protested, embarrassed-- “No, no, no.” Then she laughed, “I mean, yes…I mean my English is just o.k.” Another laugh, “I think what I said first was the traditional Chinese response to a compliment. Does that help your research?” One of my interviewees today, when I asked her to give me an example of the Chinese concept of face (I’ll write a blog entry about this topic later) told me that she used to be very concerned with not losing face, but that she’s loosed up a bit as she’s gotten older, and maybe also as she’s proven to be such a good student. “You know,” she said, “a couple of years ago, I probably wouldn’t have come to talk to you, but now I don’t mind losing face because my English is so poor. I just enjoy this kind of conversation.” Losing face because your English is poor!! I shudder to think about my own face in that case…I wonder if you can have negative face…

Despite their tendency toward modesty, the students are refreshingly, matter-of-factly honest about their own abilities. They don’t hesitate to tell me about past failures; one Yangzhou student told me that she had been one of the top students at her middle school, but didn’t do as well in high school, and so she couldn’t go to a better university. Another told me that she’d wanted to major in economics, but she wasn’t very good at math and had failed that part of the placement examination, so she ended up an English major. She continued happily however, “But I think I’m a good student in the English department; I never have to study too hard and I usually still do well.”

One of my favorite questions of the 10 that I ask is “What would make you happy?” One of the most common answers, especially at Yangzhou but sometimes at Fudan, is that the student will be happy when his or her family members are healthy, and when he or she has close friends. The first couple of times I heard this kind of response it took me by surprise, even though collectivism and one’s identity as a member of a group are central to my research. After thinking about these replies, I decided they’re really quite wise. While I would never have thought to give that response to that question, the health of my family and having close friends of course central to my happiness. I guess these things are quite easily taken for granted when they are secure; I’m grateful to my interviewees for giving me a different way to look at things.

Occasionally, I have to work very hard to keep a straight face during the interviews. Today, for example, one young man looked at me straight-faced and told me that Harry Potter had really influenced the direction of his life. The student had found a role model of sorts in J.K. Rowling’s character, it seems. My next interviewee, another young man, (dressed in his PJ’s incidentally, as he was going to shower after the interview) told me in an almost feminine voice that he planned to use his advertising degree to hopefully get a job with Estee Lauder or Loreal Paris. No, he’d never considered working for the government (it’s one of the 10 questions; I had to ask even though I could pretty near guess the answer), that kind of work is boring! He wants to work in field that is passionate and creative!

Sometimes the students’ questions for me are also fun. Some I’ve learned to expect; several have asked me about New York—I think they’re disappointed when I admit I’ve never been. A couple have asked about TV shows or which American university is good place to study management or law or marketing or whatever their major is. They usually ask which university I’m from (no one’s ever heard of Sewanee) and what my research is about. One asked me how often there are earthquakes in San Francisco. (?) A couple have asked me how I would answer some of the questions, and I surprised myself by not really having a good answer. Maybe that can be another blog post; how would I answer my own interview questions… I always thank the students for helping me, especially the Fudan students who are spending valuable study time during finals to help me, but many of the students thank me! It makes me happy to think maybe they’ve enjoyed the interview. Several have asked for my email address, which makes me happy as well. Perhaps I’ll have a few new pen pals from this trip.