On the Margin of Two Cultures

Last November newspapers in Taiwan reported a violent dispute between two groups of teenagers in a municipal library. They had words, and after one boy had been knocked to the floor, he drew a knife, stabbed a rival, and then fled. The injured youth was rushed to the hospital where he later recovered. Police are now investigating the incident. The story itself would have attracted little attention were it not for a few details: the setting was California and the victim was from Taiwan.

There is nothing new about Chinese studying in the United States. For the past several years, students from the Republic of China have outnumbered those from every other country. Recently, however, parents have been sending their elementary school-age children overseas, where they lead lives often without parental guidance and supervision.

Psychologists often explain adolescence as being a type of marginal existence. Although 90 percent of an individual's intelligence is said to be developed by age 13, one's reasoning and verbal abilities and emotional development are far from that of an adult. This gap produces a great deal of unstability and uncertainty, since one's values, morals, and character still are in a formative stage. One often questions authority and one's relation to the rest of society, producing a broad range of conflicting emotions. No longer children but not yet adults, peer support becomes extremely important, and can sometimes take on the shape of a youth culture. Leaving one's native environment and studying in a Western educational system makes this difficult period an even greater challenge.

Although Chinese and Western school systems are organized similarly into elementary school, high school and college phases, the spirit found in the two systems is quite different. Li Yi-yuan of the Academia Sinica uses art class to illustrate. In a Chinese class, the teacher, who commands considerable authority, will tell the students to copy the models in the book until they have a feel for the basics of drawing. The Western teacher will first explain the basic principles of drawing and then give examples before the students start.

Kao Hsi-chun, an economist who has lived in the U.S. for over twenty years, says that in American education, "The human element isn't that important. What are important are the facts." Such a system relies on rules to discipline students, and makes sure that all understand and play according to the rules of the game. Rights entail responsibilities, and individual rights are respected.

Yet for youngsters of elementary school age, the change imposes few burdens. Exposed to a freer environment, they gradually adapt and like a system which gives them less homework and more opportunities for advancement.

Culture shock, not the school system, causes the more serious problems. Although Chinese live in almost every corner of the globe, they rarely assimilate completely with the local population. The dispute in the library began as a result of a conflict with Hispanic students. And their problems do not end with their racially different classmates; often overseas Chinese will not accept them into their circle. Says one young overseas student, "(American society) is difficult to break into."

Living in a foreign country and studying in an environment that one cannot completely identify with produces what psychologists call "the marginal personality." Immigrants, overseas students and those who have studied in a colonial educational system often exhibit its traits, with their differences usually being one of degree. Lin Ping-hsi, who lived in the Philippines for over thirty years is one example. "When I first came back, I knew I was Chinese and that this was my country, but I still had no sense of belonging."

Researchers over the years examining the responses of youngsters living in a foreign country classified them into four basic types. The first identifies with the old culture, the second with new one, the third cannot fully accept either culture, while the fourth feels at home in both cultures.

Lin Ping-hsi is now director of the bilingual department at a school in Hsinchu and frequently counts among her students youngsters who have returned form the U.S. Age and the length of time since their return to Taiwan are prime factors in how well they adapt to the new environment. Elementary school pupils have little problem, speaking Mandarin in less than three months, although they still exhibit a preference for Western food.

High school students have the most problems. "They always use English, in and out of class," says one instructor, "and give us more grief than the elementary school kids when it comes to uniforms, haircuts, and weekly assemblies." They are more likely to express their opinions and sport sunglasses in gym class. When a class interests them, returned pupils show more enthusiasm than other students, studying hard with little thought given to the final grade. They also tend more to like physical education class and show more initiative in organizing sports activities.

On the negative side, however, students who have returned from abroad know they will not do as well as other students in the extremely competitive entrance examinations and often miss the U.S. Several eventually do go back to the United States to study, particularly among the high school-age group.

Studying abroad can also affect parent-child relationships. Students rapidly outstrip their parents' verbal ability, leaving their elders hard pressed to control them. And though parents want their sons and daughters to adjust as well as possible to the new country, many worry that future contact will be reduced to Christmas Day phone calls and that their children will charge rent when they visit them.

Many overseas students later settle abroad. In 1976 Kao Hsi-chun surveyed a group of them. Their average age was 41, and they had lived in the U.S. an average of fifteen years. 53 percent were American citizens, while 44 percent held residence cards. Fully 84 percent were married to other Chinese with only 6 percent marrying Americans. English and Chinese were used in 47 percent of their homes, with 26 percent calling English their main language. 53 percent counted both Chinese and Americans in their circle of friends. The first generation, it seems, still identifies considerably with things and people Chinese.

Another report from the United States, done last July, showed the educational accomplishments of overseas Chinese in an interesting light. Students with Chinese parentage were found to be over-represented at the two extremes, their grades being either outstandingly good or outstandingly poor. Which end of the scale they found themselves at depended to a large extent on their character, the quality of the support and guidance they received, and the school's environment.

Appreciating one's roots is necessary for one to retain one's cultural identity in a foreign land, a task in which parents often play a pivotal role. As ye sow, so shall ye reap. Despite its attractions, parents considering sending their sons and daughters to study overseas should think long and hard about its effect on their future.

[Picture Caption]

Children growing up in a bilingual environment, learning two sets of values, often do not identify strongly with either culture.

We eat hamburgers and chiaotze, and dress in uniform and in loud colors. Culture conflicts? None here.

Some people living at the margin of two cultures never settle completely into either one or the other.

Where do I call home?

To assimilate into Chinese culture, it's best to begin with the basics. (Photo courtesy of the Overseas Chinese Magazine.)

This type of ad has now become commonplace in the World Journal.

Young overseas students learn to take care of themselves abroad. (Photo courtesy of Rern-Ziahn.)

We eat hamburgers and chiaotze, and dress in uniform and in loud colors. Culture conflicts? None here.

Some people living at the margin of two cultures never settle completely into either one or the other.

Where do I call home?