After four years of living in foreign lands, I awaken in the morning to the shocking realization that I have momentarily forgotten a portion of the lyrics to the Star Spangled Banner, my country’s national anthem. I am in the shower singing to myself when it hits me…
“Oh, say can you see, by the dawn’s early light. What so proudly we hailed….” and then what? My God. It’s not that I have forgotten the lyrics themselves. It’s just that I can’t seem to remember the exact order. Is the next line, “throught the perilious fight?” No. That can’t be right. It can’t rhyme that quickly, can it? Ah, yes, “at the twilight’s last gleaming.” It comes back to me.
Although only for a minute or two, I am surprised and a little frightened by this momentary loss of memory. What does it mean? Is my brain so crammed with new Chinese words and phrases that I don’t have enough room to store my country’s national anthem? Am I losing my memory with age? Have I become un-American? Have I lost my national identity?
Beanland and Grog
Two years ago while teaching in JiangxiW I taught a class on patriotism vs. nationalism. This lesson was one of my personal favorites. I taught it during the week of China’s National Day, October 1st. I structured the class first by giving them some new words, such as ”nationalism,” “patriotism,” :”citizen,” and “traitor,” etc. Most of my lessons were structured this way. I would begin the class by providing them with some new vocabulary and new expressions, etc. Then we would do some sort of activity using the new expressions. Sometimes we would read a current news event that incorporated the new language within its text. Often, I would design a sort of role-play activity to give my students an opportunity to use new language in simulated scenarios.
After giving my students the new language and vocabulary, I immediately gave them an article from “The China Daily” English newspaper that discussed what it meant to be a true patriot. During the time that my students read over this article (of which I changed some of the language in order to make it easier for them to uderstand), I drew a map on the board of two fictitious countries bordering one another. The small country was named “Grog.” Bordering it immediately to the north was a gigantic country named “Beanland.” I drew the map on the board silently, not addressing its presence at all. After taking a few minutes to discuss some issues in the article, I handed the front half of the classroom a slip of paper with the following words:
You are a Citizen of Beanland:
“You love your country. Beanland is a prosperous and industrial country with high class education, a powerful military, and a strong economy. The people of your country are kind, and your government is generous. Along Beanland’s southern border is the country of Grog. Grog is a poor country rich in natural resources, but lacking in economic, military, and educational strength. In order to build friendship and trade ties with Grog, many of Beanland’s government emmissaries, along with Beanland’s police and military have begun to relocate to Grog in hopes of making Grog a more stable country. You love your government and hope its message for peace and stability are carried throughout the world.”
To the other half of the class, I handed out a note with the following words:
You are a citizen of Grog:
You love your country. Although economically poor and militarily weak, Grog is a peaceful country. The citizens and government here live in harmony with one another. Grog is rich in natural resources, and agriculture is the main industry. To the north of Grog is the country of Beanland. Recently, Beanland has become a major threat to your country. More and more of Beanland’s government agencies and military have become moving into Grog, slowly filling government positions, taking over industries, and possessing the land. Beanland is an industrious nation and wants to take advantage of Grog’s resources. Many of Grog’s police have been replaced by policemen and military from Beanland. Some of Grog’s leaders and citizens have been thrown in prison with no explanation. You feel your country is slowly being taken over. This has to stop! You love your country too much.”
As the students in the front and back of the class read their slips of paper, I erased the border separating Beanland and Grog, mergining them into one country called “Beangrog.” After giving the students ample time to read their papers, I collected all papers and made a proclamation:
“In 3 weeks, the two countries of Beanland and Grog will be unified into one large country called “Beangrog.” This country will be strong and powerful. The new government will consist of only the most highly educated citizens. This is a perfect future, and both countries will be stronger because of this decision.”
I then told students that if they were citizens from Beanland they were to find citizens of Grog to discuss this issue, and vice versa. I informed them that any citizen who agreed with this decision was a true patriot and loved his “new” country, but anyone who disagreed with the decision was a traitor and should be brought to me, the central government, where they would be put into prison. What ensued was somewhat of a controlled chaos. Students gathered in groups explaining why, “I support this decision because….” or, “I object to this decision because….” etc (some of the English expressions for the day). Whenever it was discovered that someone disagreed with the decision to unify the two countries into one, they were brought to me, where I “locked” them in prison (I simply made them stand on the stage at the front of the class). The person who rooted these “traitors” out was given a hearty handshake and a promised seat at the top tiers of government authority.
Inevitably, most of the people who disagreed with the decision were citizens of the weaker, bullied country of Grog. Most citizens of Beanland thought that their own country’s government was kind and charitable, and they didn’t want to listen to the lies spread from Grog’s citizens. However, after listening to Grog’s citizens, a few citizens of Beanland also disagreed with the decision. They were thrown into prison without due course. More often than not, many citizens of Grog also agreed with, or pretended to agree with unification for fear of persecution (I made sure to make a big deal of catching “traitors,” screaming out loud at them as they were thrown into “prison”).
After some minutes, I stopped the exercise and made everyone, except for the “traitors,” sit down in their seats. I informed the class that the traitors would be executed, after saying their final words. Each of them made some sort of patriotic declaration towards his/her country, and then was ”executed” on the spot.
After the last execution I pulled out both slips of paper and read them to the class. Beanland’s citizens finally got to hear the story through Grog’s eyes. Grog’s citizens finally understood why Beanlanders felt the way they did. My students were a little confused. I was the only true “traitor” in the class because I had provided them with conflicting realities. Which one was to be believed? Beanland’s story, or Grog’s?
One World, Many Voices
In George Orwell’s “Notes on Nationalism,” he writes that there is a marked difference between nationalism and patriotism. “Patriotism,” he writes, “is a devotion to a particular place and particular way of life, which one believes to be the best in the world but has no wish to force on other people.” On the other hand, Nationalism, “is inseperable from desire for power…NOT for himself, but for the nation or other unit in which he has chosen to sink his own individuality.”
I have read articles concerning the rise of Nationlist sentiments here amongst China’s youth, but I’m not about to make any sweeping generalities. According to the Washington Post’s article published just before the Olympics, “China’s nationlism today is shaped in its pride in its history as well as its century of humiliation at the hands of the West and Japan” (April 28, 2008). My students would often remind me of Japan’s invasion of China and many of today’s television shows seem to be caught in a constant timewarp of the War of Resistance against Japan, as well as Mao and his glory days during The Long MarchW. Often, it seems that nationlist sentiments act as a sort of “societal glue” (Washington Post), keeping the harmonious rise at a relative level of stability. How would you keep the most populous country in the world from stumbling into constant chaos?
I feel that there are certain words I could say in a Chinese classroom regarding national issues that would inevitably ignite a heated emotional and unified response from almost all of the students. Throughout my two years of teaching English in Jiangxi, I often heard the phrase, “unity is power,” or “strength in unity,” echoed over and over again. It was in the diary entries I read, the stories they wrote, the dramas they performed, and the speeches they gave. One world, one dream, the official Olympics’ slogan, has become the slogan for the new harmonious China. Could the same be said for an American classroom? Could I ignite patriotic, or nationlish fervor amongst my students? Is there that sense of unity? I’m not sure. We’re so used to having our policies attacked and criticized from the rest of the world, that we’ve just taken it as second nature now. In addition to being able to swallow criticism from foreign media, we also have plenty of self-criticism as well (something that I believe is perfectly fine and healthy). I don’t know that we would get such a unified response in a classroom of 30 students. Everyone has to have his or her say, and each one is different from the next. One world, many voices? Would that be our slogan for our Olympics?
Patriot Acts
Regardless of whether or not I can remember my country’s national anthem while I’m taking a shower in the morning, there is something inseperably American about the way I think, and there’s nothing I can do to change this fact. It’s something that I’ve had instilled in me from as far back as I can remember. It’s that little voice in my head that asks, “why?,” or “really?” when I see something in the news, or hear something that everyone else agrees with that seems relatively clear cut. I wouldn’t exactly call it cynicism. No. I’m definitely not a cynic, and I’m not a big fan of conspiracy theories. I just know that the world is not such a simple place, and there’s always more than one side of a story to listen to. When I open the newspaper or turn on the television and see the news, there’s some part of my brain that also wants to hear the stories that the newspaper chooses not to write about, the voices that the journalist doesn’t quote in his article, the images that we don’t see on the television. I’ll never truly know the whole story, and this fact just makes me want to do my own investigating. It makes living life such an adventure of discovery. This yearning to know as much as I can about the world is a thirst that I can never truly quench because there are too many stories out there that I will never be able to hear. It’s part of the reason I chose to come to China…to hear the stories for myself, rather than read about them in a newspaper or textbook.
Am I un-American? I certainly hope that my country does the “right thing,” and makes “responsible decisions,” and I hope that my nation remains a prosperous, peaceful, place to live. I hope for the best for my country. But I also hope “the best” for a country like China, or Sweden, or Burkina FasoW. Do I think America is “the greatest nation on Earth?” In some aspects, probably. However, every country has it’s own individual strenght, and the longer I spend abroad, the more and more I come to appreciate the strengths I find in my surroundings. My education in America has taught me to ask questions (maybe I ask too many), even to question authority at times. I’ve grown up with this way of thinking my entire life. I’ll always be from America. I can never change that. I was born in Lexington, Virginia on December 26, 1979, sharing birthdays with Mao Ze DongW. My view of the world has been strongly shaped by my upbringing in that small town in Virginia. I can’t change that fact. However, I also cannot avoid the fact that my view of the world has also been affected by more recent stories from my life abroad–stories from people who speak another language, share a separate history, and hold onto a different concept–stories far far away from where the stars and stripes of my star spangled banner are ”so gallantly streaming.” All of these stories that skim the surface of my life, affect my life’s tune. Some of these stories sink deep down to the bottom of the lake, affecting my dreams, adding a new harmony to my life’s own rich anthem.
