Dear China…

I am often a victim of my own eagerness and optimism. I get really excited about opportunities and taking chances that sometimes I can set my anticipation meter so high that I can easily upset myself. This didn’t happen when it came to moving to China.

I was supposed to come to China in January, (if you can recall and remember). I applied in April 2017 after an argument I had with my ex-girlfriend. I wanted a way out of that relationship, it was utterly draining. I wasn’t happy at “home," wasn’t happy at work, wasn’t happy with where my life and I just needed an escape, or some would even say a fresh start, but honestly, what I was really wanting was rest.

After 2.5 years of such a mentally and emotionally taxing “relationship," moving from a place I absolutely loved living (Bloomington, Indiana), and poorly leaving and ending a marriage for said female and everything that came with that. I was just tired and wanted off the rollercoaster that was my life from ages 23–28. So I interviewed to be an English Teacher in Shanghai, China in May 2017.

Why China?

I work for Education First, a global company that specializes in teaching English around the world. The doctor who performed my physical for my (then) job at the YMCA in Washington, MO, spent 7 years with EF teaching in South Africa; a country I visited in July 2009 and fell in love with. I haven’t returned since, but had been actively searching any and every avenue to return there. So when he told me about EF I jumped at the chance, but the only countries that had openings were, China, Russia and Indonesia. Russia was a clear and obvious HELLLLL NO. Indonesia I feared would have too large a language barrier, so China was the only choice I had.

I got accepted and began with the visa and TEFL certificate process. I hid the China job from my ex-girlfriend until she found out from a mutual “friend”. I can now admit, I am not sorry about withholding that information from her. I felt justified in that, considering all the things that got “withheld” from me in that relationship. (But this isn’t what this blogpost is about.)

I was supposed to arrive in Shanghai in January 2018. But because I had a massive anxiety attack in November 2017, my family and ex-girlfriend thought it was best for me to not go. So I emailed my recruiter and withdrew from the job. So I moved to my first apartment in Dutchtown Saint Louis and kept substitute teaching, but I still felt like there was something waiting for me in China and that if I didn’t go while I had the chance, I would spend the rest of my life hating myself for it. So thankfully, I was able to be re-hired but I had to switch cities. I was being sent to Chongqing, China, a much cheaper and honestly less-developed city.

I came here with a blank slate, but I still had that optimism. That whatever was waiting for me, I would find and it would maybe make me happier. I can honestly tell you, I have found something.

I want to send a shoutout to every white person that lives in Franklin County, MO who has ever gave me a weird “It’s a black man” stare because all you did was stare. You didn’t take your phone out and take a picture of me (and not even try to hide it). You didn’t over-exaggerate your movements when we walked past each other. If you stepped on my foot, slightly nudged me or bumped me accidentally, you said “excuse me” or “sorry my bad brother” (you read that in a country accent). When I would go out to eat, you wouldn’t look at each other with a “so who is going to bite the bullet” look to wait on me. You didn’t deny me service because of my skin color, or charge me higher for that same reason. You don’t/didn’t automatically assume that every Black/African-American is from Africa. You didn’t point at me, and if your children did, you told them not to. Looking back I can honestly say I appreciate it, you kept your racism, at times, hidden or subtle. You’ve never been in an elevator with me and (over-exaggerated) covered your nose.

I am very well aware that I am a Black American, and believe me, I really don’t need society, once again, try to tell me that that is somehow, a bad thing.

Experience #1-My Job Training/My Job Period

When we training first started, I admittedly started noticing that my Dutch Regional Trainer, treated and viewed me differently as my three white coworkers, one Black female coworker and one Chinese coworker. During training if one of them made a mistake, it wasn’t a big deal, but if CJ Matthews made a mistake, my intelligence was questioned. If you’re presenting job material and your trainer is sitting in the back of the room with his hands in his face shaking his head and IT IS YOUR FIRST WEEK, what would you be thinking? I wasn’t in front of students or parents, I was in front of five other BRAND NEW EMPLOYEES. It makes perfect sense to think brand new employees can be distinguished level ESL teachers with a 15 minute half-assed presentation, when none of us have done this before.

So I reached a point in my training where I was done with this guy’s bullshit (sorry Mom). For the rest of my training, I had the biggest “try me” face. A face he barely made eye contact with.

EF has ZERO black regional or upper management leadership, and that leaves me with a huge distrust for the company. The white people can do AND say whatever they want, but me, I’m expected to fall in line because “that’s China” and I’m supposed to accept that. I was at a bar with two white coworkers (very good guys) and they both said our boss is “the best boss they ever had, she lets me get away with so much shit.” I wanted to violent shake them both and say “IT’S BECAUSE YOU HAVE WHITE SKIN!!” I can’t go out drinking late night on a work night I might add, and say “hey I’m “sick” I wont be able to come in today” and be consistently met with a “Its fine get well.” My mahogany caramel skinned self can’t do that.

I admit, it gets under my skin when I see some of my Chinese coworkers go out of their way to be chummy and friendly to my white coworkers, when it’s not the same for me. They go out of their way to compliment them, when I have to do something extraordinary to get a thumbs up or smile emoji in our group chat. Admittedly, it makes me bitter and contributes to everything I bury inside me.

Keeping with my job

Experience #2-Student's Parents

I got my first parent complaints my first day. Of course right?

Let me preface this by saying, I don’t teach in a school setting. Parents pay about 3000 Yuan (which converts to about $568 USD) for english lessons. The prices vary depending on what the parents want for their student. So, naturally, the parents think they own the show and my job allows that to exist.

So my very first classes were two brand new classes with brand new students. Two back to back classes and after my second class my boss pulls me aside and says, “I had three parents ask for a refund.” I was ready for the stupid excuse I was about to be given. Apparently it was because I “don’t smile enough, I’m not patient with the students, and oh, I had my foot place on a chair.” Parents are required to sit outside the center (the center is in a mall) until the class in done, so naturally my response was “They got all of that while sitting outside facing the mall area?”

Every english class has two teachers, if I teach the class Monday, my co-teacher will teach the next lesson on Thursday, and we are required to take attendance. I always notice that there are students who will show up for my co-teachers, who are either Chinese or White, but will be absent for when it’s my day to teach.

I honestly just laugh, you are wasting your own money because you don’t want your student to be taught by a black man. Go ahead, it is your right to be stupid and your student will always be a lesson behind everyone else, which will further hinder their learning of the most spoken language in the world.

Experience #3-The Treasured White Skin

As I alluded to before, Chinese people are enamored with white skin. If the sun is out in the slightest fashion, you will see Chinese people with umbrellas (because it’s raining UV rays) to preserve their skin tone. Chinese women will over make up themselves to have white skin. Because white is seen as pure.

So if white is seen as pure, you can guess what black is seen as.

I was walking with some white coworkers and these Chinese people wanted a pic with, them.

The notion of personal space doesn’t exist here, but I can be on a crowded subway and have room to breakdance, because no one wants to stand next to me. I could be sitting down eating and someone will (over-exaggerate) move farther from me. A guy did it to me at the noodle stand and I just looked at him and said “You want your personal space when a black man is next to you.” He didn't understand what I said.

I have seen white coworkers talk to Chinese upper management like they are kids and just think to myself, that wouldn’t happen anywhere else. At what job can a subordinate openly down-talk and disrespect a supervisor or someone over them? I would have loved to be able to talk to SSG Antepara like that and just make him feel small and insignificant and him just stand there and take it like its normal.

But when you have white skin you can get away with that. When someone bumps into you, they’ll say sorry. Kids will run up to you and say “Hello” because that’s the only English they know. I could go on for days, and it would be the exact opposite for me.

This is where everything takes a deeper and darker turn.

Experience #4-The Punch

If you’re my facebook friend, who properly saw my status one morning talking about the man who punched his female significant other in the face, that I saw, and when I stepped up to him, he first, hid behind her, the same woman he just struck in her face, then called security over.

Who is the real threat here? I have been asking myself that question since that happened. He hit her so hard, I heard the impact through my earphones. All I said when I turned around was, (sorry Mom) “Try that shit with me.” And you hid like a coward. You cowered behind the same woman you struck. You wanted the same woman you struck to protect you from me. You wanted so much protection that you called security over. For five words? But it wasn’t what I said, because you didn’t understand what I said. But you did understand the anger and rage in the eyes on the man who was staring daggers in yours. The same eyes that had to lay eyes on such a cowardly individual.

I hope you took a different way to the mall, I don’t want your feet anywhere I have walked.

Just the night before, I got told a recent story about a man named Wendell Brown. A black man who came to China to teach American football, who was jumped in a bar by Chinese men. A black man who is STILL in Chinese prison for defending himself. His attackers, released with charges dropped. Because here, there is no right and wrong, no justice, only nationality.

I keep that story consistently replaying in my mind, because I am one bad day away from being the next Wendell Brown. I just pray nothing like that happens in front of me again. People close to me know that I CAN NOT stand around and just do nothing. I refuse to turn the other way when wrong is being done.

And I carry this anger and rage with me, everyday I wake up here. It takes me back to my teenage years but this time I can pinpoint my anger and I have more restraint, but the dragon still breathes. The fire yet burns. And if there is one thing I’ve learned about “the dragon” that is my anger, he can’t be caged too long.

So I keep myself inside mostly. I don’t put myself in situations that would significantly raise my anxiety, which in turn raises my anger. I picture myself getting off the plane at Lambert International and seeing DeAnna and my family. I think about that night at Jazmine’s house when all my friends met up. I think about my sisters and my nieces and nephews. I think about my church (August Gate) back home. I think about Lola (my dog) and Sherbet (my cat).

It’s a quick remedy that keeps the dragon at bay, but the fire burns.

This last experience will bring everything full circle.

Experience #5-The Elevator

I had two arms full of groceries and I was walking about to my apartment. I couldn’t get to my keys, but so the older man behind me let me in. The same older man who walked past me and out the corner of my eye, I saw him look at me and he started to follow me inside my building.

Once inside the elevator, I could tell this man didn’t seem okay, he seemed a bit drunk, which was weird because it was only about 12:45pm. The man said something to me in Chinese and I told him I didn’t understand. I guess he didn’t understand either so he grabbed my penis. Keep in mind my arms are full of groceries, but I was able to knock his hand away. I started to sweat on the back of my neck and my hands started shaking and twitching. I wanted so bad to drop my groceries and bathe this man’s face with my fists, but I didn’t.

I got out the elevator, the man followed me out. He then kept speaking Chinese to me, but this time he was acting out an oral sex at with his hands. He wanted to blow me. I said no, but I didn’t want to walk towards my apartment because he would have known where I stayed. He grabbed my penis three more times, each time I knocked his hand away. I called the elevator and acted like I was going to get on knowing he would follow me on. He got on and I pushed a random floor then quickly got off so he didn’t find out where I stayed.

Of course once back in my apartment I called my boss, my regional boss and of course the Chinese police, who made me spell “sexual assault” because they couldn’t understand what I was saying.

What I am about to tell you now, has been replaying in my head. It keeps me up at night sometimes.

While on the phone with police spelling “sexual assault” I heard as clear as day a laugh, and that laugh wouldn’t be the first of perceived laughter and holding back laughter I would see from Chinese people, whether it was an employee from my property management office or members of the noble Chinese police department. As a person who has a great sense of humor, I know when someone is holding back laughter and that’s what I saw. I couldn’t allow myself to break eye contact with them, because all I could think about is, this could be your husband, your wife, sister, brother, son, daughter, grandmother, grandfather , etc. Would it still be funny? Would it be worth holding back laughter?

I got told a number of 3 times, “You’re a strong guy why didn’t you beat that guy up.” To answer your question, if I did, I would be in Chinese prison for murder. Because the elevator that everything happened in, the camera was broken.

The police ordered the man to write me an apology letter I still haven’t received a copy of and ordered my landlord to fix the camera, at my request. So I’m guessing that’s not done yet either because I’ve been raising my middle finger to it every time I’m in that elevator like my name is Marshall Mathers.

I want to apologize to my parents, you shouldn’t be hearing about this via internet blog, but I didn’t want you to worry, even though I know all four of you always are.

I got “Temet Nosce” (Know Thyself) tattooed on my forearm for a reason. It’s a daily reminder of who I am, and not who the world tries to tell me I am.

It says something to be about a race of people who are so in love with black culture but not black people. You love everything about us, our style, our music, that your communist government just made legal 14 years ago, you love our athletes, but not our people.

The first movie I watched here in China was the most recent “Karate Kid” with Jaden Smith and Jackie Chan, and I admittedly noticed that the movie had been altered by China. Any scene where Chinese people were violent, like the one where he got beat up, was deleted because Chinese people didn’t want to see their people as violent troublemakers. Keep that mind. But how are black people portrayed in Chinese films and other media, violent troublemakers. But the most notable deleted scene that caught my eye was when Jaden kissed his Chinese love interest. (I’m curious how Black Panther is played here)The whole movie cut to black. For a reason you should already know.

I wish I could apologize for what black people have done to be so hated, BY EVERYONE. But I’m not going to, it would irresponsible and ignorant to apologize for innocence. People of African lineage are the most gifted people on the face of the Earth, it’s the honest to God truth. What to know the reason polygamy is “illegal," because when white colonizers entered Africa, they didn’t see savages like they thought, they say kings, bathed in gold, with multiple wives. And it’s ironic, that Chinese people treated Black/African people so badly, but go to White people with open arms. (I’m not going to expand on that. I’m not here to bash white people or have people think I’m bashing white people.)

I’m just a man that’s beyond fed up. Everyday the Erik Killmonger side of me rears his head, and instead of suppressing him and being humble T’Challa, I’ve put that Black Panther suit away, for the time being.

I’m angry as hell and I have the right to be.