Chinese Children Don’t Play!

My friends, I’ve really been remiss on blogging. Not for lack of material, trust me, but for expounding on this one issue that has apparently commandeered all of my creative brainpower, to the exclusion of all else, including blogging.

The thought/concept/idea came to me about a month ago, when Tony confessed he felt he was being pushed into tradition, when all he wants to do is cast off tradition and follow his dream. And it is not a big dream: he wants a career wherein he can make use of English, instead of conforming to society and finding a career within his field of study, Industrial Engineering. At best he would like to be an English teacher. If allowed to go wild on his dreaming he longs to travel abroad to make use of his excellent command of the English language.

With a bit of polish and some practice, and a bit more vocabulary Tony could speak English as well as you and I. Me, being the type of person whose approach to everything is ‘Why Not’?, wonders why this child feels he cannot pursue such an innocuous career as teaching.

We had a long conversation about it. While he does maintain it is possible to find work that would make use of his English skills he contends that, once he casts his resume out into the world and prospective employers see he holds an engineering degree, no one will care that he speaks English. No, he cannot change his major. It was determined by his College Entrance exam. On paper, he shows great aptitude for engineering, thus he is training as an engineer.

That system is not unconventional. Europe uses the same system, as does the Vocational Education system in America.

Spending time with Tony is always a pleasure and neither one of us noticed that 6 hours had elapsed since the beginning of that conversation. Everything he said led me to 5 more questions, and more questions after that. Thankfully, this poor child never gets tired of answering my questions. But he set the wheels in motion, so I decided to conduct an experiment.

I devised a series of scenarios for my classes in which the students role play. The situations ranged from plane crash survivors to a kidnapped young girl who was returned to her parents. We had factory workers who were protesting low wages, an elderly couple celebrating their 75^th wedding anniversary, foreign teachers falling in love (NOT a nod to me and Victor!), scientists who discover the fountain of youth… and reporters to cover it all. Each student was assigned a role. They were instructed to bring props to class, wear special clothing, or anything that might make their role play more fun and creative. They had one week to prepare.

For my part, I had a blast creating these scenarios and devising the lesson plan. I thought how awesome it would be for my kids to cut loose and play, all while practicing English. I imagined them making use of wigs, toys and other props I would bring. I had a bag full of things for them to adapt to their individual character. I was counting on their imagination to dress up their role play.

I got the shock of my life. Well, maybe not that dramatic, but I will say I was completely flummoxed. The kids loved playing with all the props I brought to class: trying on the wigs, hugging the Spongebob stuffed toy, skipping rope, playing with the wind up police car. They passed the Listerine bottle around and tried on the ring I brought. Come time to actually role play though, they stood stock still, used none of the props provided and recited their lines as they no doubt had rehearsed all week. They brought no props, wore no special clothing and didn’t even inject much in the way of humor into their dialog.

Honestly: I cannot tell you what I make of that. I went so far as to demonstrate that a badminton racket could be a guitar, a jump rope handle could be a microphone, two handles from a different game could be drumsticks (one scenario was of a famous rock band on tour), the bottle of Listerine could be water for the ‘fountain of youth’ role play.

Two or three groups of students did their role play. Before the next group started I asked them why they don’t ham things up with the props they were obviously dying to get their hands on and play with. They said they were too shy.

Too shy? No, I don’t think they are too shy. I think they are pragmatic to a fault, completely unable to merge the concepts of playing and learning. And, more than that, they are completely devoid of imagination. When presented with a badminton racket, all they see is a device used to bat a shuttlecock around. A bottle of Listerine is not magical fountain water. A jump rope handle could never double as a microphone. A deck of cards could never be money. And no one wore the wigs during their presentation, even the boys that took on girls’ roles. They had no problems trying them on while not presenting, though. They even took pictures of themselves with them on.

By no means am I saying that all people who are Chinese are devoid of imagination. The Chinese invented most of what we have today: pencils, paper, the directional compass, printing, gunpowder, rockets, boats, chain-driven engines, crossbows, paddle wheels and paper money, just to compile a very short list. That requires a measure of vision, doesn’t it? If you’re interested in more things invented by the Chinese, please research it. You will be amazed at what all has come out of this land.

But on the other hand… necessity is the mother of invention. How much vision does it take to invent fundamental things? What does it take to create something that, till now has never existed?

But to envision possibilities in something that already has a function? There’s a challenge! How many of you wore a sweater on your head and pretended it was long hair, or a bridal veil? How many of you pretended a stick was a gun or a cane? How many of you spent countless hours of your youth in fantasy games? It seems such games are nonexistent in China, and the Chinese mind is incapable of conceiving such things.

But wait! Some of the best movies I’ve ever seen are Chinese movies. Some of the most beautiful songs I’ve heard are sung by people who are Chinese. Some of the oldest stories were written by authors who are Chinese. In case you are not familiar with any of these particulars, what about the opening ceremony for the 2008 Olympic games in Beijing? Surely that required vision, imagination and creativity, right?

And then I got to thinking: one of the reasons I love Chinese cinema is because those movies tell real stories. Stories of life, actual conflicts that go on every day. They are superbly acted but mostly deal with either something that has actually happened (history), something that already exists or something that is currently happening.

Thinking further: I find traditional Chinese music to be discordant, atonal, unsyncopated and arrhythmic. I cannot stand to listen to Beijing Opera, for example. To hear a sample of it, simply do a search for ‘traditional Chinese music’ or ‘Beijing Opera music’ and take a listen for yourselves. One reason I do like music from contemporary artists who are Chinese is that they have magnificent, soaring voices. But they sing about things that already exist: love for their homeland, love for their family or longing for a better life. There are no imaginary scenarios in Chinese song. There is no Chinese equivalent to Frank Zappa.

What about stories? Same as with movies: they are about real situations, with a little mysticism thrown in. What about art? China has turned out some exquisite art through the centuries. But, now that I think about it, China’s most distinctive art is ‘Shan Shui’ – mountains and water, two elements of fung shui. There is not much in the way of imaginative painting; even their likeness of the Buddha statues comes from the Indian visions and projections of that deity.

I have to pursue this topic. I will interview some of my students and friends, and will report on this again. Aren’t you curious about this people, who appear to be completely devoid of imagination?