i read somewhere once upon a lifetime when i was eighteen and searching for an epiphany* that the art of living involved balancing the terror of being a man with the wonder of being a man. the very idea of living is of course gendered. (but what isn't?) nonetheless, i found the concept of balancing appealing. why i recall this now i am not sure except that i have been meaning to write for some time partially because i seem to be suspended between the terror and wonder, the highs and lows.
so, terror.
gao zhisheng has been released. yet his spirit seems crushed. which makes me at once want to weep and also fight. i shudder to think what the chinese authorities did to him this time. burning cigarettes on his eyeballs and electric shocks to his genitals were not enough to break him, insufficient torture to compel him to cease his pursuit of justice and rights in china. now he says that he no longer has the capacity to persevere.
http://www.nytimes.com/2010/04/08/world/asia/08dissident.html?scp=5&sq=gao%20zhisheng&st=cse
the saddest line to me in that piece is the description of his returning home and seeing his family's shoes. (they fled china after his last disappearance and have received political asylum in the US.) but what is perhaps most devastating is this:
“You know that past life of mine was abnormal, and I need to give up that former life,” he said. “I hope I can become part of the peaceful life of the big family.”
his saying that being a human rights lawyer or defending the legal rights of vulnerable groups is "abnormal" makes my heart sink. even more so the idea that he can now join the peaceful (harmonious!) life of the big family of the chinese state at the expense of losing his own family. although i hope that they will be able to be reunited somehow.... the brutality of this government, and the seemingly willful blindness to its darker side by so many, is literally terrifying.
there have been some other dark moments this week related to the ever-tightening space in which international organizations such of ours can operate; government scrutiny and suppression of public interest-oriented work and civil society. i can say no more, but it was certainly disconcerting.
so, wonder.
my parents came for a visit and i cooked a spring feast for them and my chinese parents and others. our families' lives have been intertwined for seventeen years and inexorably altered as a result. feeding them all in my new home was incredibly joyful. even if the dinner conversation turned bloody while my chinese mum and landlady swapped tiananmen stories.
i also had a great work trip to changsha to check in on one of our programs focused on providing training to police on intervening in domestic violence cases. i rode in a chinese police car for the first time with an incredibly thoughtful and remarkable local precinct chief who has really embraced improving the police response to domestic violence and made it a priority. he described how he was able to have the local procuratorate bring charges against a man he had known was abusing his wife for years after one beating left her with a broken nose and other injuries that rose to the level of "light injury" and therefore sufficient for an assault charge under the criminal code. domestic violence is not a separate crime in china and unfortunately it is common for police to respond to cases of violence between intimate partners by treating them as "family matters" or "domestic disputes". if the same incident had happened between strangers on the street, it would be an assault and charges would be brought, but because it is a man beating his wife, it is seen as just the way of things and not needing police involvement. that is why it was so heartening to hear this officer discuss his approach to his work. he told the woman to think of him and his police force as part of her family and there to protect her.
i realize i've just unwittingly echoed the "big family" remark. ironic how the same way of describing how an individual relates to her community or country can be suppressive or protective. context is all. or, more accurately, balance.
*being eighteen i believed that one could seek epiphanies, obstinately ignoring the truth that epiphanies are by their very nature ephemeral and gossamer things which cannot be grasped. then again, one epiphany i've had since then is that nothing that matters or endures can be grasped. anything worth holding onto seems ungraspable. and therein is life's greatest lesson. (she says in a footnote.)
Showing posts with label domestic violence. Show all posts
Showing posts with label domestic violence. Show all posts
Thursday, April 15, 2010
Monday, September 14, 2009
red china blues
so a sweet message from a sweet old beijing tongxue now in south africa inspired me to tooter once more to the brink and consider collecting my thoughts. naturally, i questioned again (and then again) about who or what this is for. but i've decided that’s no matter. there is something lost in me when i am not writing, or creating, in some small way. i’ve recognized that. and i can’t always find that place through work, or even through witty emails, or poems about imaginary pets. not even yoga brings me there (that’s a journey of a different, albeit related, sort). so, i’ve decided to just write. and not worry about whether anyone’s reading. or whether i make insightful or instructive comments about justice or whether i spend too much time getting lost in the stirrings of my hummingbird heart. (though isn’t personal narrative what makes justice worthwhile or interesting in the first place?)
personal narrative. it's what makes the world go ‘round. or at least allows us to relate. ‘red china blues’ was the title of a memoir about china i read several years ago. it was the typically cultural revolution tale, told through the eyes of one woman. (when we lent the book to my auntie jung, she covered it with newspaper so that if she was seen reading it on the bus, no one would know.) it feels belittling to say that in a way – “the typical cultural revolution tale” – because how could the intensely traumatic and brutal experiences of that one young women ever be “typical”? but they are. like that one woman, millions of teenagers saw their families torn apart or destroyed, witnessed the humiliation, brutalization or murder of their parents, were sent to remote areas of the country to work punishing hours in fields and factories without compensation or food. these individuals, each of whom suffered unique and terrible traumas, are now in their 50s. some fled and wrote best-selling memoirs detailing the horrors they experienced. i hope that they found some release in that. but for those who have stayed behind, there has never really been any public katharsis. and to speak of your own pain seems strange in a nation where nearly everyone your age has a similar story. how to you privately heal in such circumstances? one close family friend of ours provides economic support to educate the children of the village that he was “sent down” to during the cultural revolution. he says he is alive only thanks to the generosity of this impoverished tiny community that spared two potatoes a day for him for three years. as smart as he is big-hearted, this friend secured a coveted spot in the first class at beijing university when it reopened after the cultural revolution crumbled. i wonder if finding a way to give back is somewhat more than an expression of gratitude. perhaps it is part of a healing process, acknowledging those years of hardship and the six years he was unable to contact or locate his parents or three siblings. perhaps it is just kindness.
i recalled the enticing title of that book recently because i’ve had a case of the red china blues. although i think i may be recovering. i was quietly happy to be returning to beijing last night (although i am writing this en route to hong kong and then chiang mai, where i’ll be visiting little trouble and spending a week considering environmental legal advocacy in the mekong region, respectively). this case of the blues, if you can call them that, is a broader consciousness and growing concern about china. i am perhaps more
critical now of this government than i ever have been. i think this is healthy because i spent many years to enamoured with or protective of china to see clearly or think critically about the implications of this regime or its polices. (it is hard to clearly see things that we are too close to.) with time, distance, education, adulthood, travel (take your pick), my perspective has shifted. whereas once i was the one always singing china’s song, i know find myself cast as the shadow of doom in china conversations. the world seems so ready and willing to embrace china without question these days, and it frightens me. this is not a benign government. and they are quietly amassing power in subtle and complicated ways. i worry about china becoming the dominant superpower in the world. (and for those who say she lacks the creativity to do so, who needs creativity when you have seemingly limitless (opaque) markets?)
i had a rewarding two weeks back in the states. personally, i was able to connect with friends and family. professionally, a study tour i had helped to pull together for chinese judges on domestic violence and civil protection orders was just fantastically successful. so much better than i had even imagined. but my partner-in-crime (an anti-violence advocate and a researcher at the institute for applied jurisprudence, a think tank attached to the supreme people’s court) and i had to be all cloak-and-dagger about my involvement and obscure our relationship. she and her colleague even had to sneak out of their hotel to attend a meeting i arranged with one of the experts who will be part of our upcoming judicial training on domestic violence. the night before the group left, the foreign affairs bureau informed them that the tour they were going on, organized via the state department’s international visitors program, was political and was an effort by the united states government to brainwash them. they were given strict marching orders about how they were to conduct themselves while on the tour. when this was recounted to me, i couldn’t help but wonder when the cold war became chic again. oh, and just to be safe, the foreign affairs bureau planted one of the participants who was surely a spy (and none too subtle about it!)
my blues – professional frustrations and personal reflections – will dissolve, however, in moments that some how go beyond them. the study tour coincided with labour day weekend, so the state department planned on arranging a “home hospitality” program with an american family as part of the program. naturally, i volunteered my parents. so we had the group of nine judges and scholars over for a pool party and bbq. perhaps the best part was when one of the judges was admiring our yard, and my father responded by saying, “yes, but in china you don’t have to worry about cutting the grass.” the judge replied by saying, “but we want to cut grass; i have always wanted to cut grass.” ba immediately jumped up, saying, “you do? come on. follow me.” a few moments later we heard the sound of the lawnmower starting and soon judge luo was pushing it, or more accurately being pulled by it, around the back yard. two more judges then ran down for turns cutting the grass. it was a classic cultural exchange. one man’s chore is another man’s great new tourist experience.
the most fascinating cultural exchange of the trip happened in boston. among the many excellent program activities in boston was a meeting with the founder of common purpose, a local batterers intervention program. the founder, mitch, arranged to have a few facilitators from the program accompany him and also put together a panel of men who were in the process of going through the program because they had been sentenced to do so by a judge. when they walked into the room, there was a great pause in my thoughts for a moment. in all my anti-violence work, we toss around terms like “abusers” or “batterers” without thought to those labels. and suddenly, here they were. real, live “batterers” walking into a sunlight side room in the dorchester district court. they were a curious combination of swagger and shame, testosterone and nerves. i measured my own reaction and noted the moment of fear. but that fear quickly gave way to empathy, “batterers” or not, these were people and worthy of compassion. i made a point of introducing myself to and shaking the hands of each man, thanking them in advance for their willingness to participate. for participating in that panel, sharing about the deeply personal, painful, and shameful process of being ordered to participate in this program and how it is influencing them, cannot have been easy. the chinese side was at first a bit shell-shocked and i worried for a moment that they would not engage. but once they did, the exchange was fascinating and, i hope, meaningful for both sides. the judge who boldly asked the first question was a complete surprise to me. a conservative sort with a terrible combover, he usually seemed more interested in videotaping than asking questions. but he asked the men about the methodology the program employed, explaining that in china, they value balance – yin yang – and that anger is a natural human emotion, so if the methodology of the program was to teach them to suppress their anger, he thought that might eventually lead to problems or illness, but if the methodology was to help them to develop other means of releasing their anger, he wanted to know what those were and whether they were effective. my heart smiled to judge yi in that moment because that question was the perfect opening for a thoughtful discussion on anger and so much more, but it also was respectful of the assembled men. the group gave each of the program participants chinese stamps depicting the longest bridge in china, and the men seemed genuinely please with the gifts. i hope that in some small way their experience with us in that sunny room helps them constructing their own bridges to better places. bridges which, like those in stamps, i imagine must be very long.
so now i am full of hope, watching lazy clouds out my window. maybe i don’t have the red china blues after all. or maybe, just maybe, a moment of reflection is all i need as a remedy.
personal narrative. it's what makes the world go ‘round. or at least allows us to relate. ‘red china blues’ was the title of a memoir about china i read several years ago. it was the typically cultural revolution tale, told through the eyes of one woman. (when we lent the book to my auntie jung, she covered it with newspaper so that if she was seen reading it on the bus, no one would know.) it feels belittling to say that in a way – “the typical cultural revolution tale” – because how could the intensely traumatic and brutal experiences of that one young women ever be “typical”? but they are. like that one woman, millions of teenagers saw their families torn apart or destroyed, witnessed the humiliation, brutalization or murder of their parents, were sent to remote areas of the country to work punishing hours in fields and factories without compensation or food. these individuals, each of whom suffered unique and terrible traumas, are now in their 50s. some fled and wrote best-selling memoirs detailing the horrors they experienced. i hope that they found some release in that. but for those who have stayed behind, there has never really been any public katharsis. and to speak of your own pain seems strange in a nation where nearly everyone your age has a similar story. how to you privately heal in such circumstances? one close family friend of ours provides economic support to educate the children of the village that he was “sent down” to during the cultural revolution. he says he is alive only thanks to the generosity of this impoverished tiny community that spared two potatoes a day for him for three years. as smart as he is big-hearted, this friend secured a coveted spot in the first class at beijing university when it reopened after the cultural revolution crumbled. i wonder if finding a way to give back is somewhat more than an expression of gratitude. perhaps it is part of a healing process, acknowledging those years of hardship and the six years he was unable to contact or locate his parents or three siblings. perhaps it is just kindness.
i recalled the enticing title of that book recently because i’ve had a case of the red china blues. although i think i may be recovering. i was quietly happy to be returning to beijing last night (although i am writing this en route to hong kong and then chiang mai, where i’ll be visiting little trouble and spending a week considering environmental legal advocacy in the mekong region, respectively). this case of the blues, if you can call them that, is a broader consciousness and growing concern about china. i am perhaps more
critical now of this government than i ever have been. i think this is healthy because i spent many years to enamoured with or protective of china to see clearly or think critically about the implications of this regime or its polices. (it is hard to clearly see things that we are too close to.) with time, distance, education, adulthood, travel (take your pick), my perspective has shifted. whereas once i was the one always singing china’s song, i know find myself cast as the shadow of doom in china conversations. the world seems so ready and willing to embrace china without question these days, and it frightens me. this is not a benign government. and they are quietly amassing power in subtle and complicated ways. i worry about china becoming the dominant superpower in the world. (and for those who say she lacks the creativity to do so, who needs creativity when you have seemingly limitless (opaque) markets?)
i had a rewarding two weeks back in the states. personally, i was able to connect with friends and family. professionally, a study tour i had helped to pull together for chinese judges on domestic violence and civil protection orders was just fantastically successful. so much better than i had even imagined. but my partner-in-crime (an anti-violence advocate and a researcher at the institute for applied jurisprudence, a think tank attached to the supreme people’s court) and i had to be all cloak-and-dagger about my involvement and obscure our relationship. she and her colleague even had to sneak out of their hotel to attend a meeting i arranged with one of the experts who will be part of our upcoming judicial training on domestic violence. the night before the group left, the foreign affairs bureau informed them that the tour they were going on, organized via the state department’s international visitors program, was political and was an effort by the united states government to brainwash them. they were given strict marching orders about how they were to conduct themselves while on the tour. when this was recounted to me, i couldn’t help but wonder when the cold war became chic again. oh, and just to be safe, the foreign affairs bureau planted one of the participants who was surely a spy (and none too subtle about it!)
my blues – professional frustrations and personal reflections – will dissolve, however, in moments that some how go beyond them. the study tour coincided with labour day weekend, so the state department planned on arranging a “home hospitality” program with an american family as part of the program. naturally, i volunteered my parents. so we had the group of nine judges and scholars over for a pool party and bbq. perhaps the best part was when one of the judges was admiring our yard, and my father responded by saying, “yes, but in china you don’t have to worry about cutting the grass.” the judge replied by saying, “but we want to cut grass; i have always wanted to cut grass.” ba immediately jumped up, saying, “you do? come on. follow me.” a few moments later we heard the sound of the lawnmower starting and soon judge luo was pushing it, or more accurately being pulled by it, around the back yard. two more judges then ran down for turns cutting the grass. it was a classic cultural exchange. one man’s chore is another man’s great new tourist experience.
the most fascinating cultural exchange of the trip happened in boston. among the many excellent program activities in boston was a meeting with the founder of common purpose, a local batterers intervention program. the founder, mitch, arranged to have a few facilitators from the program accompany him and also put together a panel of men who were in the process of going through the program because they had been sentenced to do so by a judge. when they walked into the room, there was a great pause in my thoughts for a moment. in all my anti-violence work, we toss around terms like “abusers” or “batterers” without thought to those labels. and suddenly, here they were. real, live “batterers” walking into a sunlight side room in the dorchester district court. they were a curious combination of swagger and shame, testosterone and nerves. i measured my own reaction and noted the moment of fear. but that fear quickly gave way to empathy, “batterers” or not, these were people and worthy of compassion. i made a point of introducing myself to and shaking the hands of each man, thanking them in advance for their willingness to participate. for participating in that panel, sharing about the deeply personal, painful, and shameful process of being ordered to participate in this program and how it is influencing them, cannot have been easy. the chinese side was at first a bit shell-shocked and i worried for a moment that they would not engage. but once they did, the exchange was fascinating and, i hope, meaningful for both sides. the judge who boldly asked the first question was a complete surprise to me. a conservative sort with a terrible combover, he usually seemed more interested in videotaping than asking questions. but he asked the men about the methodology the program employed, explaining that in china, they value balance – yin yang – and that anger is a natural human emotion, so if the methodology of the program was to teach them to suppress their anger, he thought that might eventually lead to problems or illness, but if the methodology was to help them to develop other means of releasing their anger, he wanted to know what those were and whether they were effective. my heart smiled to judge yi in that moment because that question was the perfect opening for a thoughtful discussion on anger and so much more, but it also was respectful of the assembled men. the group gave each of the program participants chinese stamps depicting the longest bridge in china, and the men seemed genuinely please with the gifts. i hope that in some small way their experience with us in that sunny room helps them constructing their own bridges to better places. bridges which, like those in stamps, i imagine must be very long.
so now i am full of hope, watching lazy clouds out my window. maybe i don’t have the red china blues after all. or maybe, just maybe, a moment of reflection is all i need as a remedy.
Saturday, May 9, 2009
backdating 1 - comments fom changsha
so once upon a lifetime when i briefly attempted to be a corporate attorney in a big, bad firm i worked on a case related to the backdating of stock options. i therefore know what i am about to do is dubious. nonetheless, i want to include my first two beijing briefings on this blog. so please excuse the backdating.
from april 23:
it's 11:31 on a wednesday night & i've just returned from an evening at a changsha hotspot called song-song. i ended up there after having dinner w/ a woman we work with from the hunan provincial all china women's federation (fu lian), peng di, at a bustling local restaurant inside a rebuilt old palace. changsha is most famous for 1 - being mao's hometown & 2 - burning itself down. during the japanese invasion of china, in an effort to prevent the japanese from getting anything from changsha / making any profit from the city, the city leadership decided to burn everything before the japanese arrived. so 3,000 years of history went up in smoke. and the japanese never made it to changsha. [remember this story if you ever feel as though you've made a really big mistake.] so anyway, we ate in a reconstructed version of one of the ancient palaces. we then met up with some representatives from the national fu lian and some local police from the sex crimes unit to drink whiskey-mixed-with-iced-tea, eat fruit, play dice, listen to hiphop and enjoy a variety of performances (i found the covers of 'hotel californ' and 'country road' charming, the canto-pop sufficiently cheesy, and i was thankfully leaving as the 'naughty nurse and doctor' dance performance act was beginning). this was the end of a long day.
i'm in changsha to connect with a few members of the chinese anti-domestic violence movement / partners of ours, to observe a judicial training sponsored by the australian human rights commission, and to see some of the work being done locally in relation to DV / protection orders (this is probably the most progressive province in the country on DV issues). [another changsha story i can't resist sharing: when chairman mao was making a trip back to changsha during the cultural revolution, the local officials had to chose a place for him to be photographed at the train station when he arrived. this was deeply problematic. if he was to the west, that was problematic because it showed support for capitalism. if he was to the north, that was problematic because relations w/ the soviet union were bad. if he was to the south, that was problematic, that was bad because relations w/ vietnam were bad. if he was to the east, that was problematic because it showed respect for beijing over the countryside. there was no politically tolerable place for the chairman to stand. so he didn't move in any direction once he got off the train for the picture & was photographed in front of stalls selling chilies in the main hall.] it's been good to be here - our women's rights work, which is currently focused on combating domestic violence, is now one of the areas i'm responsible for. we had a really successful training program for chinese police in february, and are in the process of developing a training program for judges. being at a local court today was incredibly moving as i was able to see the impact of our february training program. there is a bit of a revolution brewing in china vis-a-vis the public security response to DV and it is humbling, overwhelming, inspiring to play some small part in supporting that..... (i could go on in more detail about this, but will spare you in the interest of space. glad to share more if you're interested!)
aside from women's rights, we also work on environmental rights, criminal justice, promoting public interest lawyering, civil society capacity building, social policy advocacy, and have a few other projects here & there. (i was meant to be returning to beijing to attend a meeting we're co-sponsoring on representing child victims of domestic violence / sex crimes, but the local partners have decided to discuss a recent, horrific case from southern china where a group of government officials are charged w/ sexually abusing little girls and it would stifle the conversation if a foreigner were there. this happens not infrequently (i can't attend our programs because i look foreign). i sometimes find it frustrating, but i also understand.) so anyway, that's what's occupying my time in beijing. the work is challenging, my colleagues are fantastic. i feel this type of work is the reason i went to law school and i am so happy to be back in beijing. (my inner scripts are more wholly my own there than anywhere else, really. even after all the changes in the city.) it's also nice to be speaking chinese again. though i learned the hard way that i am not quite up to giving articulate speeches on the fly. or at least not at 9:00 am on saturday mornings when the 2 minute welcoming remarks from the chinese partner become an eloquent speech about the importance of volunteerism & NGOs festooned with stories about his daughter's positive experiences volunteering during the olympics. yes, i was tempted to try to make a joke and talk about my daughter's positive experiences volunteering during the olympics, but i sensed the assembled govt officials and NGO leaders weren't the right crowd for that sort of humour. instead i expressed what an honour it was for us to support this work and our thanks and said i couldn't possibly have anything more to say on substance because director huang had already said it all.... from now on when i have to speak formally, i prepare in advance. it's also been nice having shaphan in beijing. things with us are wonderful. i feel very lucky to have ended up once again in the northern capital.
for now, back to changsha. after leaving the court teary and thoughtful about how a group of thoughtful, committed individuals really can make a difference, we travelled across town to a community services center. the woman leading our tour of the center was more hip than i could ever hope to be - short, crimped hair, skin-tight black plaid trousers tucked into high-heeled, tall black leather boots with leather blows and sequins on the sides, a pale pink, slightly wrinkled (untucked) blouse. the outfit was completed by the headset she was wearing to guide us. it was all fairly straightforward until we arrived on the floor that was meant to provide services for pregnant women and educate them about being healthy during pregnancy. my buoyant mood was abruptly shattered by the site of a large, clear jar with a fetus inside floating in formaldehyde (or some sort of preservative). i thought i was going to be sick. until i saw the larger jar with a larger fetus - 32 weeks i found out. it was just so awful and confusing ("they came from the hospital" whatever that means and were there for "education purposes" whatever they could be). i left that room quickly. we saw the arts center and then there was a presentation about their anti-DV work which included a performance of the small play they'd developed as an educational tool. and the day moved on....
the jarring moment i describe is something that is simply part of life here. one minute you're walking to work enjoying the morning sunshine and some (relatively) clean air, happily eating a redbean bread, smiling at dogs and babies and loving china, and the next moment you're stepping in a filthy puddle of restaurant slop that splashes all over you and cursing china. one minute you're moved by the immense will of one local court to effectively combat violence against women in the community, the next you're somehow staring at a decaying fetus in a jar. one minute you're trying to avoid the pig's blood dish at dinner, the next you're being encouraged to climb on the stage and dance to jay-z in between acts at a chinese club.
those moments are always little opportunities for reflection, growth, discovery, inspiration. or laughter. or tears. or both. oh the unbearable lightness of it all. ; ). ok, with that it's clear that it is too late for me to try to say anything further.
from april 23:
it's 11:31 on a wednesday night & i've just returned from an evening at a changsha hotspot called song-song. i ended up there after having dinner w/ a woman we work with from the hunan provincial all china women's federation (fu lian), peng di, at a bustling local restaurant inside a rebuilt old palace. changsha is most famous for 1 - being mao's hometown & 2 - burning itself down. during the japanese invasion of china, in an effort to prevent the japanese from getting anything from changsha / making any profit from the city, the city leadership decided to burn everything before the japanese arrived. so 3,000 years of history went up in smoke. and the japanese never made it to changsha. [remember this story if you ever feel as though you've made a really big mistake.] so anyway, we ate in a reconstructed version of one of the ancient palaces. we then met up with some representatives from the national fu lian and some local police from the sex crimes unit to drink whiskey-mixed-with-iced-tea, eat fruit, play dice, listen to hiphop and enjoy a variety of performances (i found the covers of 'hotel californ' and 'country road' charming, the canto-pop sufficiently cheesy, and i was thankfully leaving as the 'naughty nurse and doctor' dance performance act was beginning). this was the end of a long day.
i'm in changsha to connect with a few members of the chinese anti-domestic violence movement / partners of ours, to observe a judicial training sponsored by the australian human rights commission, and to see some of the work being done locally in relation to DV / protection orders (this is probably the most progressive province in the country on DV issues). [another changsha story i can't resist sharing: when chairman mao was making a trip back to changsha during the cultural revolution, the local officials had to chose a place for him to be photographed at the train station when he arrived. this was deeply problematic. if he was to the west, that was problematic because it showed support for capitalism. if he was to the north, that was problematic because relations w/ the soviet union were bad. if he was to the south, that was problematic, that was bad because relations w/ vietnam were bad. if he was to the east, that was problematic because it showed respect for beijing over the countryside. there was no politically tolerable place for the chairman to stand. so he didn't move in any direction once he got off the train for the picture & was photographed in front of stalls selling chilies in the main hall.] it's been good to be here - our women's rights work, which is currently focused on combating domestic violence, is now one of the areas i'm responsible for. we had a really successful training program for chinese police in february, and are in the process of developing a training program for judges. being at a local court today was incredibly moving as i was able to see the impact of our february training program. there is a bit of a revolution brewing in china vis-a-vis the public security response to DV and it is humbling, overwhelming, inspiring to play some small part in supporting that..... (i could go on in more detail about this, but will spare you in the interest of space. glad to share more if you're interested!)
aside from women's rights, we also work on environmental rights, criminal justice, promoting public interest lawyering, civil society capacity building, social policy advocacy, and have a few other projects here & there. (i was meant to be returning to beijing to attend a meeting we're co-sponsoring on representing child victims of domestic violence / sex crimes, but the local partners have decided to discuss a recent, horrific case from southern china where a group of government officials are charged w/ sexually abusing little girls and it would stifle the conversation if a foreigner were there. this happens not infrequently (i can't attend our programs because i look foreign). i sometimes find it frustrating, but i also understand.) so anyway, that's what's occupying my time in beijing. the work is challenging, my colleagues are fantastic. i feel this type of work is the reason i went to law school and i am so happy to be back in beijing. (my inner scripts are more wholly my own there than anywhere else, really. even after all the changes in the city.) it's also nice to be speaking chinese again. though i learned the hard way that i am not quite up to giving articulate speeches on the fly. or at least not at 9:00 am on saturday mornings when the 2 minute welcoming remarks from the chinese partner become an eloquent speech about the importance of volunteerism & NGOs festooned with stories about his daughter's positive experiences volunteering during the olympics. yes, i was tempted to try to make a joke and talk about my daughter's positive experiences volunteering during the olympics, but i sensed the assembled govt officials and NGO leaders weren't the right crowd for that sort of humour. instead i expressed what an honour it was for us to support this work and our thanks and said i couldn't possibly have anything more to say on substance because director huang had already said it all.... from now on when i have to speak formally, i prepare in advance. it's also been nice having shaphan in beijing. things with us are wonderful. i feel very lucky to have ended up once again in the northern capital.
for now, back to changsha. after leaving the court teary and thoughtful about how a group of thoughtful, committed individuals really can make a difference, we travelled across town to a community services center. the woman leading our tour of the center was more hip than i could ever hope to be - short, crimped hair, skin-tight black plaid trousers tucked into high-heeled, tall black leather boots with leather blows and sequins on the sides, a pale pink, slightly wrinkled (untucked) blouse. the outfit was completed by the headset she was wearing to guide us. it was all fairly straightforward until we arrived on the floor that was meant to provide services for pregnant women and educate them about being healthy during pregnancy. my buoyant mood was abruptly shattered by the site of a large, clear jar with a fetus inside floating in formaldehyde (or some sort of preservative). i thought i was going to be sick. until i saw the larger jar with a larger fetus - 32 weeks i found out. it was just so awful and confusing ("they came from the hospital" whatever that means and were there for "education purposes" whatever they could be). i left that room quickly. we saw the arts center and then there was a presentation about their anti-DV work which included a performance of the small play they'd developed as an educational tool. and the day moved on....
the jarring moment i describe is something that is simply part of life here. one minute you're walking to work enjoying the morning sunshine and some (relatively) clean air, happily eating a redbean bread, smiling at dogs and babies and loving china, and the next moment you're stepping in a filthy puddle of restaurant slop that splashes all over you and cursing china. one minute you're moved by the immense will of one local court to effectively combat violence against women in the community, the next you're somehow staring at a decaying fetus in a jar. one minute you're trying to avoid the pig's blood dish at dinner, the next you're being encouraged to climb on the stage and dance to jay-z in between acts at a chinese club.
those moments are always little opportunities for reflection, growth, discovery, inspiration. or laughter. or tears. or both. oh the unbearable lightness of it all. ; ). ok, with that it's clear that it is too late for me to try to say anything further.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
