In the outskirts of Anhui province, China, there came a woman named Xiao Zhang. Born into a family on the brink of poverty with 5 mouths to feed, Xiao Zhang was predestined to a life of domestication. Ever since she was able to speak, Xiao Zhang was taught the basics of how to be “the perfect woman” (or at least what was the standard in 1900s China): masterfully excelling at any household task imaginable. At 10, Xiao Zhang became the head of her house. At 18, she was married off to a family friend’s only son. Together, they had a vision for a better future for themselves and their family – a better education for their children, a bigger house for them to live in. “You’ll make double what you make here in a year in a month in the city”, they said, and Xiao Zhang listened. Enticed by the allures the big city came with, Xiao Zhang and her husband left their childhood home behind, left their two children in the care of their grandparents, and most of all, left practically everything they’ve ever known back in Anhui as they trekked southwards, towards the bustling streets of Shanghai. With nothing but a sack around her back, Xiao Zhang traversed door to door, asking homeowners if they needed any help in maintaining their households. While she faced rotten luck, facing rejection after rejection as families slammed their doors on her face, everything changed when she walked up to JianHe Road No. 2222. This is the story of how Xiao Zhang became our family’s 阿姨 (ayi, or a maid).
Xiao Zhang is a migrant worker in China, which are “farm workers… who leave home and enter urban areas to work (Jiang, 20).” This is not an uncommon story in China – families who are barely scraping by are sold this narrative that you can make money quickly in the cities. This is reflected in Spring Grass, where Rivers’ boasts a confident tone when expressing how successful he and Spring Grass would be in the city. He says things such as “If they can figure it out, can’t we? (Page 3, Chapter 11)”, highlighting how much of a sure bet Rivers expects making money in the city to be. This can also be seen throughout Chinese history, where organizations such as the national Women’s Federation encouraged rural workers to move to the cities so that they could “not only make money, but also improve their cultural quality due to the influence of urban civilization (Gaetano, 15).” For rural workers, migrating to the city seems like a deal almost too good to be true: migrant workers like Xiao Zhang are probably earning 2, 3 times more than they ever would have back in their home villages. But are all migrant workers as lucky as Xiao Zhang? How true is this “get rich quick in the city” narrative? And what costs does it come at for these migrant workers?
On the surface, it does seem like migrant workers experience higher levels of economic prosperity than they would have if they stayed in their hometowns. A study conducted by Li Ping and Li Wei finds that “migrant workers are not only making contributions to the Chinese economy… but they are also very satisfied with their economic and social status (Jiang, 26).” This line of reasoning seems to be supported by what we observe in Spring Grass, where during a conversation with the trading company manager in Haizhou, the manager only has to think for “a moment (Page 8, Chapter 11)” before coming up with an idea for Rivers and Spring Grass to make money. The deliberate choice by the author to use diction here that highlights a short period of time suggests that opportunities for any average individual to make money are so abundant that it doesn’t take him long to think of one. Armed with the comfort that there are many different avenues and opportunities they can pursue, it is no wonder that countless villagers make the decision to leave their homes for the cities in pursuit of a better life.
In reality, however, making money as a migrant worker is never that clear cut. The first, and perhaps the most damning, challenge migrant workers have to overcome is that of information asymmetry. According to the State Council Report, “most migrant workers have a general lack of information about labor markets (Jiang, 21).” This idea is further supported by Spring Grass, where in a conversation with their uncle, Rivers exposes how truly clueless about the cities he actually is when he didn’t know that he needed a business license in order to sell their silk pillow covers on the street (Page 8, Chapter 12). Their lack of information and knowledge about urban economies and industries is rooted in the fact that “88 percent of migrant workers are introduced to their urban jobs through… relatives or other people in their hometown (Jiang, 21).” In Spring Grass’s case, Rivers and Spring Grass chose to go to Shaanxi because they heard that Rivers had relatives there who they haven’t talked to in years. This, in turn, leads to limited information flow about urban labor as these relatives often come from similar, low-education backgrounds, which therefore make it rather difficult for them to explain every single nuance and intricacy of their work that an employer would expect them to have. Migrant workers’ lack of information on urban cities hurt them in two ways. Firstly, this affects their ability to find where jobs and other opportunities are in the first place, perhaps best highlighted in Rivers’ case in which they hauled tons of pillow covers across provinces just to be in risk of not being able to sell any of them. But more importantly, Jiang writes that their lack of knowledge causes them to “show less confidence at job agencies than their urban peers (Jiang, 21),” making them be hired or even be paid at lower rates compared to urban workers. This highlights how the incredibly high barriers of entry that exist within the urban job market for migrant workers make it incredibly difficult for them to actually achieve that prosperous life.
Even for those who are able to overcome these informational barriers, the immense implicit costs that come with being a migrant worker causes working in the cities to be hardly worth it for most. As a result of the implementation of the hukou system by the government in 1958, a policy that intended to disincentivize rural citizens from moving away from their homes, the government made many “basic insurance packages non-transferrable (Jiang, 25)” based on region. This meant the children of migrant workers were not allowed to attend public schools, and many migrant workers were unable to qualify for basic healthcare and other welfare benefits in the city simply because they were not originally from these cities. This idea is supported by the disturbing statistic that “only 12.9 percent of migrant workers are covered by disability insurance, while 10 percent have medical insurance (Jiang, 24).” Instead, these are costs that have to come straight out of a migrant worker’s personal pockets – having to pay for hospital bills that could be in the tens of thousands of RMB, or their own health insurance out of their monthly salary. This means that the amount of money migrant workers make in the city isn’t that much in reality, because much of their salary is re-invested in the high costs of living of being in the city in the first place and having to pay for services that they wouldn’t have had to pay for in their hometowns.
This is assuming that migrant workers are paid well in the first place. Because “rural migrants cannot enter the official employment system in the city… without urban household registration (Jiang, 22)”, which many rural migrants do not have, this prevents many rural migrants from being protected by the labor laws of the city as they are not recognized by the state as workers to begin with. With employers often well aware of this fact, this leads to them reneging out of contracts, or short changing migrant workers out of the pay they deserve. As a result, “the hourly wage of migrant workers [are] only one fourth of that of urban workers (Jiang, 24).” And even worse than this, 13% of migrant workers don’t get paid at all because their employers weren’t contractually obligated to do so (Jiang, 25). Migrant workers are unable to do anything in retaliation as given most are working in these cities illegally and without urban registration, they are afraid to bring their employers to court as they would be conceding to legal authorities that they themselves had been breaking the law by working in these cities. But even those who are able to bring their employers to court for violating their contracts are mostly out of luck as “current labor dispute regulations impose a 60-day limitation period, barring many aggrieved workers from bringing their claims to court after 60 days have expired since the date when the alleged dispute occurred (Jiang, 24).” This highlights how migrant workers often live incredibly oppressed and silenced lives in the city, living off discriminatory and often incredibly unstable paychecks that might not even come month by month.
What’s more, with the supply of migrant workers at an all time high, each individual worker crucially becomes highly replaceable. Gaetano highlights how “rural migrant women are especially desirable because they can be worked hard for a few years, then dismissed without incurring long-term investment costs (Gaetano, 23).” With many Chinese factory plants aiming to be as profit maximizing as possible, this makes the income stability situation for migrant workers even more precarious as even if migrant workers are paid well, Gaetano shows how this is most likely only going to last for a few years, leaving migrant workers left out to dry once their services are no longer needed. Especially since China is moving towards a service economy and relying less and less on manufacturing, this is becoming increasingly true: with the supply of workers still at a high but with the demand of laborers slowly decreasing, this makes each individual worker at these factories less and less valuable and more and more replaceable to factory owners, creating a race to the bottom for wages in the process.
Putting the economics aside, migrant workers often have to sacrifice other physical and familial costs in order to pursue working in the city. Especially since migrant workers are hired for jobs that are seen as undesirable by the urban class, this is often “painstaking, exhausting, dirty and dangerous work (Jiang, 22).” This becomes especially problematic because since these workers are bound to state labor laws, employers often place these migrant workers in “poor working environments… which expose migrant workers to numerous hazardous substances (Jiang 25),” as employers want to lower cost as much as possible and know there aren’t any repercussions to doing so. As a result, over 700,000 cases of workplace accidents occur to migrant workers, and more than 6,000 migrant worker deaths are reported every single year (Jiang, 25), highlighting how being a migrant worker in the city could seriously come at a cost to one’s health. This is especially pernicious considering how few migrant workers have access to medical benefits and welfare, leading to many not receiving medical treatment for these accidents. Arguably, this could be seen as the worst implication of being a migrant worker as without an able and healthy body to enjoy spending all this money they earn, what’s the point of making money anyways?
Furthermore, the year long absences of migrant workers away from their families could form serious rifts between one another. In Last Train Home, we saw how even though the mother did not want to let go of her one year old baby, she was forced to as she had to return back to the city for work. As a result of this coerced abandonment from young, this led to the daughter, Qin, feeling immense resentment towards her parents, believing that they only cared about making money and themselves rather than loving her. In the end, this led to the relationship between daughter and parents being irreparably severed, with the mother left heartbroken because of their dysfunctional family. Perhaps the impacts of familial tensions are less severe in modern China with the rise of technology that connects individuals from far, as I see Xiao Zhang video calling her daughter all the time from our kitchen, but her psychological development and her feelings towards their parents that are formed would be undoubtedly be different than if Xiao Zhang was back home.
While the lights in the city shine bright, it’s important to understand the costs that are associated with working as a migrant worker in China. Although there are success stories such as that of Xiao Zhang, there are plenty more that have been far less fortunate, who have had to sleep in rooms with 10 other roommates and were forced to send their children to underfunded migrant schools. It is only through questioning these shiny societal narratives at face value and understanding the struggles many migrant workers face that we can create solutions that are empathetic in creating a more equitable China.