“Momma will make you live a better life in the future” (Qiu 27.13).
And so, she has. My life is intertwined with the indomitable spirit of my mother, Spring Grass. Without her, I would not find myself in this position today. Having attended school and university in the city, and now as a proud owner of an apartment in Shanghai, I stand as a testament to the profound impact of a mother’s relentless perseverance and selfless sacrifice. While our familial origin in the Chinese countryside bears the imprints of a rural hukou, through my mother’s resilience, my brother and I have defied destiny to revel in the comforts of an urban life.
My life commenced amidst the scenic landscapes of rural China, within the walls of a supposedly grand home my parents built for us. However, the sequence of events that have truly forged my life unfolded a couple of years later when fastened to my mother’s back, we embarked on a journey to Haizhou (Qiu 18.1)– a city I would call home for many years to come. Today the abundance of opportunities offered by the city has rendered migration a necessity in the countryside (Chang 105). However, at the dusk of the previous century, post-reform China continued to grapple with Confucian notions of femininity and stereotyped migrating women as morally suspect and lacking in feminine virtue (Gaetano 50). My mother strongly resisted the shackles of such stereotypes and persevered in her journey to the city, as she had previously several years before my birth.
More notably, my mother persevered against the patriarchal bounds enforced by our society. She did not rely on her husband, my father, to provide for her or Richie and I. On the contrary, our relocation to Haizhou was driven by my mother’s desperate attempt to provide for us, necessitated by my father’s irresponsible expenditure of their savings and the sale of our house to settle his debts. Following his misadventure in the coal business, my cowardly father abandoned the rest of us to hide from his debtors (Qiu 17.2). As such, my mother traveled to Haizhou– an unfamiliar city– as a lone woman with a two-year-old daughter, limited financial means, and ample uncertainty. Her position was further weakened by the lack of a social network– guanxi– in Haizhou. While most migrants, even today, exceedingly rely on individuals within their network to access housing and employment, as well as ensure survival in an alien city (Gaetano 47), my mother was truly by herself.
While we now found ourselves in Haizhou, our lives were not comfortable or joyful even by the most lenient definition of these terms. For the first couple of years, I was separated from my beloved twin brother, Richie, who was left in the care of my maternal grandparents in my momma’s village. Considering I was no older than a toddler, the details of this separation have blurred in my memory, yet the conspicuous scar on my arm and the chronic bronchitis I endure stand as unwavering reminders of those challenging early years. During the initial months, my mother vended roasted snacks with me nestled in her bamboo basket as we traversed the streets of Haizhou during the peak of winter. Unsurprisingly, the elements of nature were unforgiving, resulting in a lingering cough that has evolved into chronic bronchitis (Qiu 18.13). A couple of years later, reunited with Richie and in the absence of our mother, I attempted to cook noodles in order to satiate his hunger, only to accidentally spill scalding broth on my arm (Qiu 27.11). A poignant mark of this mishap endures to this day, hidden beneath the sleeve of my shirt.
During the early years of my life, I was often left to my own devices in locked hostel rooms or in the shack on East Osmanthus Street while my mother tirelessly attempted to secure a meager living. While I attempted to support my mother through these years of struggle and downplay the pain (Qiu 27.13) and despondency I endured, it would be dishonest for me to claim that I have not questioned her decisions. Would my childhood not have been more comfortable had I stayed with my grandparents in the village? Was my mother motivated by self-interest in keeping her children close, even if she could not provide adequately? However, as I have matured, I have realized the unfairness of these questions.
Motivated by a resolute commitment to our well-being, my mother toiled day and night– whether in the modest shack selling roasted snacks or later, as a member of a work unit. Her focus was on saving and cutting unnecessary costs to secure a better future for us (Qiu 26.6). Upon joining the work unit, she rushed home every day to share the meager meat she found in her lunch box, sustaining herself on recooked rice porridge and pickled vegetables (Qiu 27.2). Her sacrifices knew no bounds as she consistently put our needs above her own. As she gradually established herself in Haizhou, she skillfully cultivated guanxi, which inadvertently benefited us as well (Gaetano 56). I vividly recall the winter of 1995, when Mrs. Tsai, my mother’s colleague, gifted us several winter clothes (Qiu 27.14). Ultimately, my mother ensured Richie and I grew up in the city, and received an education, all the while basking in the love of a devoted mother. Had she left us in the village, the harsh reality is that our grandparents would not have the means to feed or educate us, and we would be one of the several million estranged, left-behind children of China.
In spite of the challenges we faced during our early years in Haizhou, the city and the hardships we endured have significantly shaped the person I am today. A significant degree of independence during my childhood accelerated my maturity– I learned to assume responsibility for household chores and care for my brother (Qiu 27.2). More crucially, this period bestowed upon me valuable lessons from my mother’s life. Foremost among them was the essence of hard work instilled by her admirable work ethic. Second was the importance of education and the pursuit of academic achievement. Having been denied an education during her childhood, momma not only ensured we did not meet the same fate but particularly emphasized the imperative value of schooling in order to succeed. Equally significant was the notion of financial independence– a lesson underscored by the financial setbacks faced by my mother. Initially driven to the city by my father’s poor financial decision-making, history repeated itself in Haizhou as he once again depleted our family’s savings (Qiu 26.5) during the short duration he was present in our lives. He then abandoned us once again, this time for good, with a new partner. My memories of my father are not particularly fond; instead, they are marked with incessant strife with my mother (Qiu 26.2) and his role as the reason for our prolonged woes in Haizhou. Through these trials, my mother imparted the importance of financial autonomy– encouraging me not only to earn my own money but also to learn how to safeguard it. Often drawing on the wisdom of her late aunt, my mother emphasized the importance of money and the need to strive for financial security by leveraging my education.
In the end, momma has successfully fulfilled her promise and ensured a brighter future for Richie and me. She surpassed her own experiences by giving us more love than she received from her own mother, more financial resources than were ever available to her, and greater access to education than she was ever accorded. As I look back on her life, I admire the values she has instilled in me– perseverance, hard work, and financial autonomy. Her resilience against patriarchal norms, selfless sacrifices during periods of financial direness, and her eventual triumph over adversity exemplify the metaphorical “soul of a bamboo” (Qiu 26.8).
Word Count: 1318
Work-Cited:
Chang, Leslie. “Factory Girls”, Factory Girls: From Village to City in a Changing China, New York: Random House, 2008, pp. 98-119
Gaetano, Arianne M. “Gendered Social Networks and Migration Pathways”, Out to Work: Gender and the Changing Lives of Rural Women in Contemporary China, University of Hawai’i Press, 2015, pp. 46-58
Qiu, Shanshan. “Spring Grass”, Chapters 17-27