Never Give Up, Never Surrender--Chao Tzu-chiang Chases His Dream

Chao, who has won three Golden Bell awards for his performance as children's television character "Grandma Fruit," observes, "When I started chasing my dream, at first I hit problem after problem and had to overcome all kinds of setbacks." But every time he hit a snag, he found a way to get past it thanks to his determination. "The seeds had already been sown in my heart-they were just waiting for a chance to flower. Ambition and tenacity are extremely important both to individuals and society as a whole," says Chao.

Everyone has some secret locked away deep in their heart; the question is, how do you blow the dust off that lock and reopen the gate to the "secret garden" in your heart? If Kids Theatre's adaptation of the famous children's novel The Secret Garden is a story of love and of miracles.

"Everyone has a 'secret garden' of sorts in their heart, and as we share the joy and sorrow of the young girl in the story, we realize that even though reality can be cruel, there is always passion and courage to be found in life," says Chao, brimming with joy. "What we want to express is that through love and selflessness, we can lessen the stubborn attachment to ego."

Chao wears many professional hats, working on two television shows, one radio show, and roughly one new children's theatrical performance every six weeks. Despite the havoc this schedule wreaks on his vocal cords, he is as smiling and vibrant as ever.

A tearful awakening

"Dreams are by nature hazy, and you can never be sure what you're after when you start chasing your dream. I'm just taking it one show at a time," says Chao. The seeds of his dream were planted during a class he took at Chinese Culture University (CCU) while still an undergraduate.

Enraptured by the life of the student, Chao, having already transferred from studying mechanical engineering to journalism, decided that he would rather continue on to graduate study than drag himself into the workforce. But what subject to choose? Unable to come up with anything, he went and sat in on a whole range of courses. One of those courses was one taught by Wang Shih-jung of CCU's Institute of Labor Science, discussing the changes wrought on the Western world by the Industrial Revolution. He talked about fairness and justice, the relationship between people and work, the opposition between labor and capital, and how the intelligentsia called forth a rising consciousness in the proletariat.

"So everything I learned when I was young is connected, and the pursuit of knowledge is done out of concern for others and to change the world!" Chao was deeply moved, and eventually he tested into the institute with the highest marks in his intake.

This one accidental turnaround was a shock to Chao's system, and he realized that "if you do what you love, you'll most likely do pretty well." He'd had an interest in performing since starting university, and since graduating with his master's degree, Chao has done nothing in the labor field, instead taking the long, winding path of the performer.

Chao considers theater a kind of handicraft rather than a structured, assembly-line affair. Every theater troupe has its own unique style, each is one of a kind. Theater itself serves as a mirror for the joys and sorrows of life, and is a tool for the expression of human emotion.

"They say that no man is an island, and that we all desire connection with one another. Some people do that through charitable works; I communicate with everyone through performance." Chao chose to live a life unique, but even as he made that choice, his dream was still just out of reach.

Chao wears many professional hats, working on two television shows, one radio show, and roughly one new children's theatrical performance every six weeks. Despite the havoc this schedule wreaks on his vocal cords, he is as smiling and vibrant as ever.

Setbacks and rebirth

In 2000, Chao started getting involved with what many consider a niche-children's theater. This turnaround came as he was doing double duty in television, working both behind in front of the camera. Taking part in a Candid Camera-style show, he began to notice that the ideas for pranks coming from the producers were getting increasingly crazy and increasingly stupid. Shocked by his realization, he asked himself, "Is this really what we want to give our audience?"

Chao, who had always prided himself in his comedic roles, decided to try something different, moving into serious theater. He found audiences cold and unreceptive, saying, "I don't get it. That's not even funny! That's not Chao Tzu-chiang," denying him credit for his hard work. It was then he realized, "Adults are too set in their ways and too biased. They're not the people I want to be talking to." He resigned himself to the fact that he could never live up to the expectations adults had of him.

So what's the difference between adults and children as audiences? Chao says that he couldn't figure out what children wanted to see, nor what they'd understand, so he asked himself what he would want to see. He believes that everyone still has an inner child, and that as long as you get past your ego and tap into that innocence, listening to your inner child, you can find creative inspiration everywhere in life.

"Children are smarter than they get credit for, they just lack experience. They have plenty of passion and courage, and the ability to form opinions. They're really very impressive." At the end of 2000, the If Kids Theatre put on a show called The Adventures of Y2K Bugs, scoring a major victory and making the company one of Taiwan's best known children's theater groups.

However, in the spring of 2003 SARS struck, testing the world's medical responses and almost entirely extinguishing the flame of Chao's dream, so recently lit. The epidemic dragged on for three months, and people grew scared to go outside lest they get infected. It goes without saying that people were even less keen to go to public spaces and take their children to see theatrical shows.

At the time, If Kids Theatre had just opened its sixth show, Ligalu, when ticket takings dropped by a full 90%. The company itself was spending almost NT$1 million a month just in wages and management costs, and Chao began rethinking his position. "Why do I need a whole theater troupe? If I really enjoy children's theater this much, flying solo should be enough." He decided to lay off all the staff bar the bookkeeper, a part-time assistant, and himself, the three of them carrying on with ticketing and other services.

However, once word got out that he'd disbanded the troupe, expressions of goodwill came flowing from all corners of the community. Everyone's passionate support made Chao realize that his dream had begun to bear fruit in the eyes of audiences. Who was he to cut it down now?

He began to contemplate the future. "I should stop thinking just about myself like this. This troupe isn't about me, it's for all those young people that want to get into children's theater; we give them a stage on which to shine," Chao told himself.

Over seven years of hard work, audiences gradually grew and grew. This October, the troupe premiered their 15th show, The Secret Garden, in Taipei City. The show was a sold-out affair, with children's laughs, gasps, and cries filling the theater.

Chao wears many professional hats, working on two television shows, one radio show, and roughly one new children's theatrical performance every six weeks. Despite the havoc this schedule wreaks on his vocal cords, he is as smiling and vibrant as ever.

From flower to gardener

Back on stage, Chao is clad in an orange dress with red and green decoration, playing the role of "Grandma Fruit" and cheerfully narrating the story of The Secret Garden. His current role within the troupe has blossomed similarly to the garden of the title, growing from a flower (performer) to gardener (leader), and now he is the person responsible for tending the flowers.

Chao's role as "Grandma Fruit" has earned him three Golden Bell awards, and the character has become the figure most trusted by Taiwanese children. Pictured here, Chao has his photo taken with a mother and child after The Secret Garden.

"Life is short, and we should savor every minute, every second we're alive. We should strive to find our own values, our own criteria for happiness, and not just settle for the easy answer. In modern society everyone's too busy trying to persuade everyone else and unwilling to listen for themselves, so in the end everyone's screaming to be heard; in the end, the world will end up desolate and silent." Having only just finished organizing The Secret Garden, Chao enjoys a brief period of rest as he prepares to continue his TV hosting duties. "Every day we see violence and horror on television. It's unfortunate, and leads many parents to turn off the TV, but I see things differently; I want to put on something better, something that will draw the children's attention our way," rasps Chao through his almost chronically inflamed vocal cords as he eats lunch.

While he was at university, some people described Chao as "the boy who wouldn't grow up." He thought to himself, "That's right, I don't want to grow up!" He believes that so-called "maturity" is just another word for compromise and debasement; that maturity is "lame."

In the past few years, Chao has finally found his own "secret garden": "Real maturity is having the courage to pursue your dream, but to do it while still keeping in mind other people." The biggest difference between children and adults, says Chao, is that sometimes when children chase their dreams, they can be underhanded, but adults do so with a little more concern and consideration for others. This is a lesson Chao has learned through his transformation over the past few years, and is the secret to his dream finally blossoming beautifully.

Chao wears many professional hats, working on two television shows, one radio show, and roughly one new children's theatrical performance every six weeks. Despite the havoc this schedule wreaks on his vocal cords, he is as smiling and vibrant as ever.