by Manling, host of China Plus
In contrast to the outgoing and worldly image that comes through from his resume, Guo Jiawenzhang seemed rather shy and reserved at first when I met him in person. But it didn’t take long for his eloquence to shine through once he stepped up to the microphone.
Wenzhang caught our attention because of his involvement in writing last year’s State of the World’s Volunteerism report, which for the first time included a case study section about China. And in another first, the report was published in Chinese in China. This signifies the big strides China has made taking part in international volunteerism.
As the world looks towards China to make an even greater contribution, it’s worthwhile asking why it has taken so long for China to be a part of the global family of volunteers, and what has stopped the spirit of Chinese hospitality and benevolence from growing into professional volunteerism. Do we as a people or a nation really lack the spirit of a good Samaritan, as many people both inside and outside China have claimed? And if that’s true, how could Chinese civilization survived the test of time and maintained its vitality?
“We have always been there,” Wenzhang said, as he assured me that we aren’t lacking the spirit of volunteerism. In his opinion, the issue is that Chinese people are not good at communicating effectively with others.
This got me thinking. For centuries, Chinese people lived in something of a bubble. Inside this bubble, they developed their own traditions, culture, and philosophy. Although in the past four decades, China has become more open to the world, there is a degree to which Chinese people have failed to tell others who we are and what we want. This shortcoming, which comes in part from our slavish adherence to the virtue of modesty, has hindered us from making bigger strides when it comes to opening up to the world, including in the field of international volunteerism.
Born in 1992 into a middle-income family, Wenzhang was lucky to have the liberty to choose his own major and career path. Most young people his age had to submit to their parent’s decision on these matters. Wenzhang said he chose international development because he had spent far too much time at home, and was itching to go out into the world. “Before college I’d never traveled outside Hebei,” which is his native province. His major in international development brought him to international volunteerism. This drew him out of his comfort zone and into world, as far afield as Africa.
After graduating from China Agricultural University, Wenzhang studied for a Master’s degree in the Netherlands before taking up opportunities to intern in Tanzania and Ghana with United Nations Volunteers. This volunteering work provided Wenzhang with valuable opportunities to broaden his horizon and gain new knowledge and skills. He was keen to learn from his colleagues from elsewhere in the world, and he stretched himself by taking on responsibilities such as project and human resource management.
Wenzhang was born in Tangshan, the site of a devastating earthquake in 1976. Despite the earthquake happening well before he was born, Wenzhang inherited the collective memory of pain and loss that was deeply carved into the minds of Tangshan people. When in early 2008 a major earthquake struck Sichuan, the 16 year old saw how volunteers from all over the country poured into the region. Some of them came from his hometown Tangshan, despite being emptyhanded and not knowing what they could do to help. For people from Tangshan, their motivation was simple: we were helped in our time of need, and now is the time for us to pay it back.
A major difference in the response to the two big earthquakes was that during the former, the rescue and relief efforts were mobilized by the government, whereas after the Sichuan earthquake, people mobilized by the government worked side-by-side with volunteers. Reflecting on both earthquakes, we should be proud of the ability of the Chinese people to be resilient and deal with such an extraordinarily natural disaster.
But the experience in Sichuan also taught us that being a good volunteer requires more than just good intentions – it requires training, organization, and professionalism. The enthusiasm of individual volunteers quickly died down as the government advised people not to travel to the site of the disaster on their own, as vehicles were starting to block supply lines into the region. And people were told not to distribute their own food to people in case there were hygiene problems.
Later that same year, Wenzhang witnessed a well-organized use of volunteer resources when China hosted the 2008 Olympic Games in Beijing. Without the army of student volunteers, China wouldn’t have been able to deliver such a splendid event to a world audience. The two events in the same year helped to form a picture of contemporary volunteerism in China, one was mostly direct, individual, and spontaneous, and the other professional, systematic, and institutional.
According to Wenzhang, the internationally-accepted definition of volunteerism has three criteria: it has to be voluntary, it has to serve the public good, and financial reward is not the principal motivation. Judging from the three, where does China’s volunteerism stand in the larger picture of the internationally accepted definition? Wenzhang says that Chinese volunteerism can be traced back to the time of Confucius some three thousand years ago, when the philosopher promoted the spirit of ren (仁) to people. Translated into English as kindness and benevolence, it is still the most highly respected virtue for Chinese people.
Ren (仁) is a form of direct action that can be seen in people giving up their seats for the elderly on the bus, or giving money to someone online to help them pay medical bills, or giving up material comfort to work as a volunteer teacher in a remote village, or donating money or clothes to poor colleagues. These are all voluntary acts, except perhaps for the last one. I joined the mutual aid donation program at work that aims to help colleagues in need, but I rely heavily on my workplace to tell me when I should open my wallet. Does that make it less voluntary? Is it not a good way to serve the public good? The list of donations and volunteering activities like this in China can go on forever, and they are all laudable for their contribution to the public good.
From the time of Confucius until now, the spirit of benevolence, to serve the public good, has evolved in accordance with changing ideological, cultural, and social values. From imperial and feudal family support networks, to commune cooperatives in the 1960s and 70s and neighborhood committees, to the development of one of the China’s largest non-governmental humanitarian organizations in 2007, the Blue Sky Rescue Team, through to the recent introduction of community-based aged care services, you can see how the mechanisms in place to help the poor have never disappeared; they have evolved.
In China there is the well-worn cliché “为人民服务”, which means “serve the people.” If you ask someone from China what comes to mind when they hear this phrase, almost inevitably it will be the name Lei Feng. Born in 1940, Lei Feng (雷锋) lived just a short life, dying in a tragic accident in 1962. But in the years that followed, the young soldier’s name has become a watchword for Chinese volunteerism because of his tireless efforts to help others. Presented as a model of virtue for people to follow decades ago, his spirit has survived the test of time. Every year across China, millions of people, especially students, take part in “Learn from Lei Feng” volunteer activities that are sponsored by both government and non-government organizations. If they are all serving public good, do we need to question or judge whether or not government is coordinating these efforts? In my opinion, we need only to question how efficient the efforts are and how satisfied people are with the results.
As China shifts from having a planned economy to a market one, volunteerism has becomes less government directed and more market driven. In other words, it’s less mandatory, and more voluntary. In this transitional period, new volunteers like Wenzhang have come to play an important role.
Wenzhang said that before he worked in the United Nations program, he understood volunteerism to be individuals directly helping each other. His experience working with other volunteers from overseas led him to realize that well-organized, institutionalized, professional volunteerism can benefit more people in a more efficient way than the disparate efforts of individuals working alone. Wenzhang learnt so much from his colleagues from the United Nations Volunteer program, he decided to invest what he learned into helping develop professionalized volunteering in China.
When he was writing his part of the State of the World’s Volunteerism report, Wenzhang went on field trips to extensively research two successful programs, one in Beijing city and another in the city’s rural surrounds. In both cases, he tried to show how people worked together to help themselves. Both of these projects were initially organized by the local government, a point I raise not out of criticism, but rather to highlight that government has a role to play in helping to raise awareness of issues and to build local capacity in the community to address them. The two cases that Wenzhang wrote about in the report are good examples of how people in China are gradually shifting from government-sponsored public service to community-based volunteerism. Wenzhang hopes these two examples will serve as models for other communities to follow.
China is in the midst of its journey towards developing a comprehensive social security system. Building a modern volunteering system is part of this effort. The road ahead is a bumpy one, as some Chinese people still hold onto their old way of thinking that volunteers should not be paid at all, and that volunteering jobs are not serious jobs… While monetary reward is not the principal motivation of volunteers, organizations have costs to cover. And that includes the cost of supporting professional volunteers like Wenzhang..
Even though he now works for a consulting company, Wenzhang still sees volunteerism as his life-long commitment. He said that one day he would like to return to study, and again work for the United Nations in either a volunteer or non-volunteer capacity, because helping others is what makes him feel happy and fulfilled.
When I asked if he has plans for the future other than work and study, he hesitated for a moment, and then said he would like to get married. But, he added, his future bride would need to support his commitment to volunteering. This made me laugh, and I blurted out “What a boring person you are!” He started laughing and without missing a beat said, “Yes, I am boring.” As I sat with this bright and good humoured young man, I hoped that as he pursued the “Lei Feng Spirit” that he would always find fun in his life.
