Not Zero-Sum: Perspective of an Ordinary Chinese American
In the era of Trump/Putin/Xi, an ordinary Chinese American's hope for solidarity (Chapter Twelve)
← Chapter Eleven: On Democracy
Chapter 12: Seeking the Truth
If you were to ask someone living outside of the US what they find most remarkable about the home of the brave today, the answer invariably comes back in some form about the diversity in the US—something most Americans are not necessarily aware of. While we sometimes find the topic of diversity tedious and its existence adding an extra layer of complexity, our ongoing struggle is what people worldwide admire most about the US. And while American society isn’t quite the one big, happy family that some of its international enthusiasts might envision, we have come a long way.
As a nation of immigrants, cultural diversity has been embedded in American society since its inception. The Founding Fathers set the tone through The Declaration of Independence, the groundbreaking document that reflected not just their averseness against hereditary monarchies but also affirmation toward equality—the promise “all men are created equal” would become the North Star of all future civil right movements. When America fought a bloody civil war that abolished slavery almost a century later, it marked our first step toward fulfilling that promise. Since then, generations of Americans have ventured forward under the guidance of their moral compass, shedding race, gender, sexual orientation qualifications along the way, slowly but surely closing the gap between reality and the self-evident truth.
As America built a reputation for tolerance where anyone can achieve their dreams through hard work and a bit of luck, it attracted talented young people from every corner of the world. The newcomers brought fresh energy, facilitated the flow of ideas, enhanced America’s global influence, and strived to earn their place. Though this arrangement wasn’t always perfect—the latest immigrants often faced daunting challenges and, at times, incurred enmity from earlier arrivals who had forgotten their own roots—the democratic process would eventually figure out a way to weave their voices into the broader narrative, and they, too, would become part of the community where discussions, debates, protests, campaigns, and elections thrived. This open, diverse, ongoing civil discourse has led to a society more interesting, innovative, and just, and I believe it’s what makes America great today.
Compared to the US, China seems much more homogeneous on the surface. If you visit most cities located along the eastern coast or in the basins of the Yangtze River and Yellow River, the people look and dress alike, whether jammed in subways commuting to work, queued in lines buying goods from street vendors, or gathered around dining tables bonding with multi-generations of families. But if you dig a little deeper, you may notice that people from different cities often speak dialects so distinct they seem almost unrelated. A quick Google search will show that China currently has over 300 dialects. Nanjing, the city I grew up in, is only 200 miles away from Shanghai, but if the Shanghainese people chose to communicate in their native dialect, I wouldn’t be able to understand their conversation any more than a foreigner would. A deeper dive will also expose stereotyping attitudes that people from different cities may hold of each other—not unlike the special relationship between NYC and Boston—and these views can turn prejudicial when applied to people in rural areas, where the residents are often poorer and less educated.
If densely populated cities aren’t the scene for you, then you might travel westward and further inland. There, you will find not only natural wonders such as the Himalayan Mountains sprawling in the South and a pair of deserts (Gobi and Taklamakan) stretched across the North, but also five autonomous regions: homes to China’s biggest minority ethnic groups. The final post of the Great Wall demarcated the boundary between old Han China—as most of the outside world knew China—and the western minority regions. It’s a path that takes you from modernity to tradition, from familiarities to the realms of legends and fairy tales. The epic novel Journey to the West traces through these very lands, replete with exotic kingdoms and treacherous mountains. The ancient Silk Road not only transported silk, spices, and goods across the vast deserts centuries ago, but it also carried stories like Aladdin and Alibaba that dotted my childhood.
Yet, despite its rich history, this part of China remains a world that most Han Chinese know very little about. Tibet, boasting an average altitude of almost three miles, is notorious for the “plateau effect” that can cause headaches, sickness, and even death to the unacclimated travelers. Meanwhile, Xinjiang, which literally means “new frontier,” shares more in common with the sandy environment and predominant Islamic culture of Central Asia than with the rest of China, such that the movie Dune comes to mind when I try to picture it—likely betraying my own ignorance as a Han Chinese American. These two westernmost autonomous regions have experienced the least Han assimilation, and they are also where China currently faces its biggest human rights challenges.
One of my earliest memories comes from kindergarten, a happy drawing depicting a group of 50 or so children adorned in distinct, brightly colored costumes, each representing an ethnic group of China. It was an attractive image that marked my first brush with diversity, a scene that has since been recreated at the 2022 Winter Olympics. However, while China has often touted ethnic unity during official events, such as the annual spring festivals in addition to the Olympics, its actions have fallen short of those idealistic portrayals.
Instead, reports of infringements on the livelihoods of the minority groups persist, and ethnic dissent has been increasingly met with hard-line measures. In general, beyond putting up appearances during celebrations, the Chinese government has largely dismissed the topic of diversity, similar, in some ways, to how I had initially ignored the more personal questions during college—before I realized the meaning diversity held for me and its potential to change the world.
From my personal experiences, I believe diversity, like democracy, is rooted in human nature in the dual sense that we want to be part of something bigger and we want to be ourselves. What had been previously unknown was whether it was possible to achieve both simultaneously, especially when the larger group is made up of people from vastly different backgrounds.
In the US, discovering the truth about diversity has been my generation’s biggest contribution. Galvanized by the 2008 election, we have built upon the progress of previous generations and provided ample evidence that we can all get along. Whether collaborating on class projects, hanging out by the cafeteria, competing in Ultimate, or volunteering at Habitat for Humanity, we tested our theories and found unique perspectives that uplifted our shared journey. As a result of these revelations, the advance in the larger society has been tremendous. I have seen and felt the changes, how they swept through the various theaters of life: movies, TV shows, sports, politics. It’s my source of optimism that those who have experienced diversity cherish it.
However, because of the swift, transformational nature of our progress, it has agitated the opposition—countervailing forces that coalesced around the Trump presidency. During recent elections, the political campaign rallies of the two major parties increasingly reflected two competing visions of America: one espousing a more diverse, equal, and united society where we live, work, play side by side, and the other trumpeting a divisive America intent on rolling back the progress that had been made.
In 2020, when I visited my parents’ home in the Houston suburbs, I was disappointed to find many Trump & Pence signs compared to only a few Biden & Harris signs in most neighborhoods. However, when I jogged by the basketball courts or the playgrounds of those same neighborhoods, I saw groups of teenagers and kids of all ethnic backgrounds playing together without a hint of reservation—a seamless image that reflected the composition of the United States and contrasted with the yard signs that their parents might have put up.
It occurred to me that many folks supported Trump because they had never experienced diversity themselves—a consequence of America’s segregated past. Their anxieties, whether driven by the accepted social norms of Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion, or the age of the internet, were not unlike the qualms I felt the first day attending school in the US or my initial reactions around large bodies of water prior to learning the strokes, breathing techniques, and the joy of swimming.
It’s partially because of this knowledge that I’m not a fan of cancel culture, where our dialogues break down into shouting matches that drown out any meaningful sharing of perspectives, leading only to divisive outcomes where neither hearts are won nor minds are changed. Instead, I’m reminded of the mercy that Steven had shown me, and the impact it’s had ever since. Our version of America is better because it includes the other side too. But at the same time, I realize there’s a smaller group of people who explicitly choose to exploit the anxieties of others, who will go to dubious lengths to advance their self-interests, and who are only concerned about their grip on power, not unlike dictators attempting to block the transition to democracy. And I realize that, in these cases, it will require us to stand up and fight for the conscience of our nation, that for justice to gain power, injustice must lose power.
The battle for the identity of America, similar to the Civil War’s determination for self-government, impacts not only the future of the US but also holds larger implications for people around the world, including the people of China.
In the past few decades, the CCP has built railroads and highways that penetrate deep into China’s untamed western regions, accelerating the diffusion of Han Chinese from the East. By 2020, the number of Hans had grown to over 10% of Tibet’s demographic and 42% of Xinjiang's—behind only Uighur at 45%. While the settlers created fresh opportunities, they also occupied the more coveted jobs, partially because Hans are generally better educated, but also because most businesses are owned by Hans, who benefited from greater management experiences as well as connections with government officials.
In addition to improving transportation, the CCP also invested in schools, hospitals, and other infrastructures and services. But while the Chinese government pushed its vision of modernization for the western regions, it did not offer the minority groups the freedom of choice. Its schools only taught Mandarin, the official tongue of Han, contributing to the gradual erasure of native languages. Its history classes had a tendency to rewrite the past in its favor. Most inflexibly, the CCP suppressed religious practices, despite Tibet's prominence in Buddhism and the substantial Muslim community in Xinjiang.
As their way of life eroded, the ethnic minorities looked wistfully to their neighbors—the “stans” of Central Asia that gained independence in the dissolution of the Soviet Union. Faced with increasing unrest, the CCP responded in the manner it knows best—through force, similar to how Europe had once overpowered a more traditional China.
While China’s contemporary worldview has been tinged more by raw power, there have also been signs for potential shifts. The prosperity of globalization sowed seeds of unity in the people’s imaginations. The display of solidarity from the Ukraine War has not gone unnoticed by the CCP. Even after thousands of years, Confucian values continue to pull the Chinese society toward harmony, as constant as gravity. Despite the heavy police and military presence in its western regions—itself a self-fulfilling prophecy exacerbating minority discontent—I believe China would prefer to maintain stability through less barbaric means, if it only knew how.
A progressive outcome in America then could break ground for an alternative path in China. If America thrives in diversity, it would supply the evidence that China needs to consider a more open and engaging approach, one that could lead to elevated international standing, beyond internal salvation. Rather than rigidly suppressing dissents like pouring concrete over every emerging crack, China might emulate America’s model to examine and address underlying issues through dialogues and inclusive policies, reinforcing the collective understanding that binds society, so it isn’t one day haunted by the fissures of the past.
In addition to enhancing long-term stability, frank discussions would also help mold China’s moral conscience. While China’s economy has embarked on breathtaking growth in recent decades, its moral progress has lagged due to the widespread suffering from the past one and half century, leading to the belief “honest people finish last.” The CCP’s desire to monopolize thoughts has further limited the potential impact and advancement of Chinese philosophies, confining imaginations to what’s next for the people—“lying flat” has grown into an unlikely trend among millennials / college graduates in China.
Catching up on the moral front will steer the society in a direction more compatible with the virtues that millions of Chinese parents have already been instilling in their children, truly fulfilling their hopes of a better life for their sons and daughters. Moreover, the gradual transformation of society based on the younger generations’ aspirations would usher China toward a more optimistic era, healing old wounds, re-mending social fabric, rebuilding trust, thus making it possible to embrace a future more harmonized with the trajectories of other prosperous nations.
If America continues to champion a world defined by our shared values, China will also want to reflect on the interactions between its citizens and the global community—how can such a large bloc of people become more connected to the world? Currently, China has a deficit in soft power, and its relationships with other nations are often based more on commercial transactions than deeper connections.
While becoming a more open society and attracting immigrants through favorable economic prospects like America could prove one solution, China faces headwinds given its huge existing population. Conversely, Chinese students studying abroad could provide an alternative avenue, since attending universities overseas is already a popular choice, and it’s more a question of whether the CCP feels secure enough to maximize the students’ impacts.
For the world, the contest to determine whether a diverse, equal, and inclusive America can endure will influence the path of other nations too, potentially expanding the horizon of possibilities for all people. The progress in America could buoy the spirit of a minority young man who just moved to a foreign nation, it could give strength to a transgender person whose identity isn’t currently accepted in their nation, and it could build courage in a young woman fighting for the same progress in her home nation.
Similar to the path of global democracy, our mutual acceptance will foster stronger bonds among participating nations and forge closer alliances like the international solidarity that has emerged during the Ukraine War. Perhaps the propensity for diversity to break down boundaries could gradually diminish the significance of national borders too as the European Union had already pioneered on a smaller scale, and it will finally allow humanity’s interests to become less bounded by national interests. The success of the American experiment will also establish the conditions for us to raise the question:
If Americans emigrating from all over the world can become one, does that mean people from nations around the world can become one too?
To me, that’s the next frontier. As technological improvements continue to find ways to shrink our physical distances, our innate desire for companionship and common fate on Earth inevitably beckon what kind of future do we prefer—a world united by the infinite strands of human connections or a world divided by the constraints of artificial boundaries? It’s the contemplation whether our shared values stretch across national borders; it’s the deliberation of Russian citizens caught between national obligations and universal aspirations; it’s the complication from America vs. China rubbing against the desire to contribute to a better world.
While I believe we have the opportunity for a global movement toward an international community now, a community trailblazed by the citizens of the world and built upon the budding universal solidarity from the Ukraine War, it’s also perhaps a question for the younger generations—the youth rocking to live concerts in Amsterdam, dancing the night away in Kinshasa, riding the spiraling networks of subways in Shanghai, surfing the ocean off the coast of Sydney, shooting hoops in the suburbs of Houston, crisscrossing the soccer field in Sao Paulo—the generations that have grown up under the prosperity afforded by America’s farsighted discretion with nuclear weapons in the aftermath of WWII such that their life experiences haven’t precluded the possibility of a more optimistic answer. Whereas John Lennon asked us to imagine a world with no countries in 1971—the same year that witnessed Ping Pong Diplomacy—we have more practical means 50 years later to explore the meaning of “we are one” through the lens of our own life journeys.
During Ping Pong Diplomacy, the American national ping pong team’s trip had culminated in a visit at the Great Hall of the People in Beijing with Chinese Premier Zhou Enlai. Zhou congratulated the players on opening “a new chapter in the relations of the American and Chinese people” and received an unexpected question from Glenn Cowan, the American player who had boarded the wrong bus and set off the historic chain of events.
Wearing a floppy yellow hat and tie-dyed jeans, Cowan, asked the Premier what he thought of the American hippie movement. A surprised Zhou thought for a moment and replied “Youth wants to seek the truth and out of this search, various forms of change are bound to come forth. When we were young it was the same, too.”
And so I hope the future generations will travel to distant corners on Earth deemed safe by the State Department wearing sneakers, flip-flops, worn out jeans, I hope they will interact with the local people, experience the regional music and cuisine, and I hope they will gain perspectives, share perspectives, and seek the truths, among them—whether the world can live as one.
Epilogue →
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Chapter Twelve End Notes:
The book The Emperor Far Away by David Eimer guided much of the background context on the western autonomous regions of China. It’s a good introduction to ethnic minorities in China (not only the western regions, but also the southwest and the northeast).
Their anxieties, whether driven by the accepted social norms of Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion, or the age of the internet…: “It Was Cultural Anxiety That Drove White, Working-Class Voters to Trump” by Emma Green, The Atlantic https://www.theatlantic.com/politics/archive/2017/05/white-working-class-trump-cultural-anxiety/525771/
By 2020, the number of Hans had grown to over 10% of Tibet’s demographic and 42% of Xinjiang's—behind only Uighur at 45%: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tibet_Autonomous_Region; https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Xinjiang
“lying flat” has grown into an unlikely trend among millennials / college graduates in China: “‘Lying flat': Why some Chinese are putting work second” by Ivana Davidovic, BBC News (https://www.bbc.com/news/business-60353916)
Ping pong diplomacy: “How Ping-Pong Diplomacy Thawed the Cold War” by Evan Andrews, History (https://www.history.com/news/ping-pong-diplomacy)