My Beautiful Orchid

Today, the original One-Child policy no longer exists. In 2002 it was modified somewhat and codified in a new birth planning law, which effectively removed it from the realm of politics and mobilization campaigns. On the plus side, the oversight and enforcement of the new law are less erratic and extreme than they were during the 80’s and 90’s. Some promising changes are also been made. Beijing’s emphasis is beginning to shift away from population control in favor of population management. Reproductive health and education are beginning too play much larger roles. Thanks to CCAA’s oversight of one of the world’s best run international adoption programs, more foundlings than ever are finding loving homes. Likewise, social welfare institutes are receiving more support, both financial and logistic, and international adoptive couples are now providing badly needed cash. New forward thinking programs and cooperative efforts with international NGO’s and relief organizations are providing reproductive health care, education, and medical care for orphans, including corrective surgeries.

As positive as these programs are, their implementation has been limited and huge inequities remain. Beijing’s support has gone preferentially to well run orphanages that have been able to maintain good relationships with the Civil Affairs bureau and make better “showcases” for foreign dignitaries and adoptive couples. For the most part these are in or near urban areas. Orphanages in poor regions are disproportionately overlooked. Likewise, though the new law contains many concessions, the resulting restrictions are not radically different from those of the late 80’s. In urban regions couples are allowed only one successful pregnancy (including those leading to multiple births), but some exceptions are made. Minority couples are often allowed two or more children. So are couples in which at least one partner is an only-child. Thus, those who want multiple children and are able and willing to pay these fines can have them. But exceptions are rare and it’s safe to say that urban Chinese couples are effectively restricted to one child. As before, policies are more lenient in rural areas where most provinces have a one son-two child rule. If the first-born child is a son couples are restricted that child only. If the child is a daughter they’re allowed one more successful pregnancy after a waiting period of several years. Some provinces allow two children regardless of sex. Though the new law is far less oppressive than its predecessors, enforcement is still harsh. Failure to adhere to quotas leads to stiff fines, which especially in rural areas, many families cannot afford to pay. Couples suspected of being in violation are still subject to highly invasive monitoring of their family planning and though they far less frequent, coerced abortions and sterilizations still occur. Despite the progress of the last decade, a One-Child policy mindset still persists throughout Beijing’s social welfare bureaucracy.

And infant girls continue to be abandoned by families desperate for sons.

It’s late. The rest of the world has long since gone to sleep as I lay awake pondering these things. Claire is sleeping with Mommy and Daddy tonight. She lies beside me wrapped in her blankie, her stuffed lion and dolphin cradled lovingly in her arms. Only the gentle rhythm of her breathing, soft as a dove’s against my neck breaks the silence. I turn to watch her, cherishing her sweet presence. How could anyone have abandoned such a treasure? I will never know, nor will I understand. Certainly China’s population control efforts have been draconian, and the rural obsession with male heirs could hardly be stronger. But this alone does not explain what is before my eyes. In his Pensées, Blaise Pascal wrote, “the heart has its own reasons which reason does not know.” With Claire peacefully asleep next to me, her face angelic as she dreams of tomorrow’s discoveries, my own heart cannot fathom how any traditions or values would make losing her preferable even to death.

There must be more to the story.

Socio-Economic Factors

And so there is. Throughout Chinese history Confucian principles shaped socio-economic structures as well as tradition. Residents of the typical rural village were all members of one clan, and all economic and civic structures were based on patrilineal kinship, which also determined citizenship, income, and property ownership. Male heirs insured that everyone had a means of support and a place within the community. In old age one could look forward to a position of respect as a village elder and know that their son’s family would take care of them. Regional mobility among clan villages was limited and those who were poor, or of low standing had few options for relocating and “starting over”. Typically, a Chinese man lived his entire life in the clan village of his birth. A woman lived in hers only until marriage, at which point she went to live in their husband’s for the remainder of her life. Marriage almost always came early in life and a girl left home before acquiring any significant labor value. Thus, education and development of publicly useful skills were of no use for girls and seldom pursued, further limiting their ability to contribute to the family economy even if they weren’t married off as planned. In addition to being cut off from destiny, a family without male heirs could count on ending up destitute as well.

With the rise of Communism villages were replaced by collectives and China gradually shifted from a primarily agrarian economy to one based on manufacturing. Improved economic conditions and centrally controlled distribution gave parents at least some freedom from the need to be supported by their sons in old age. The role of women in society expanded giving them a freedom they had never before known, especially in the areas of employment, education, freedom of choice in marriage and divorce, and family management. In 1949, 600,000 female workers and urban employees in China accounted for 7.5 percent of the total workforce. By 1988 they were 50,360,000 strong, and 37.0 percent of the total. Recent social surveys in some urban areas found that by the mid-80’s 99 percent of married women were bread-winners, and more than 70 percent of these reported that decisions were shared by husband and wife.

Yet many of these changes bypassed rural regions where even today options remain few. As China struggles both to modernize and adjust from central control to a global free-market economy, Beijing’s economic incentives have been concentrated in urban areas where industry, hi-tech, and manufacturing are located. All too often this has been done at the expense of rural regions. Until the 90’s for instance, the state kept agricultural prices artificially low to insure cheap food for urban areas. Urban residents have long enjoyed cost-of-living and housing subsidies and generous state supported pension plans—none of which were available to agricultural sector peasants. Nor do rural workers have to option of pulling up roots and moving to the city. Official residential registrations, or hukou, for urban areas are required before one can relocate. These are strictly controlled by the state and are exceedingly difficult for uneducated farm workers to obtain. Under the collective system, state support of the elderly was meager at best. When family farms returned to rural China during the 80’s even that disappeared in many areas. At least one 1987 social survey found that pensions accounted for less than 5 percent of the income of the rural elderly population. As of this writing, China is working toward a national social security network and has made some progress toward that goal, yet there is still no meaningful social security for most rural families and social services accessible to them are limited. Most agricultural sector families would be hard pressed to survive old age without the assistance of their children, and cultural expectations continue to shift this burden onto sons. It’s easy to forget that for China’s peasant families, these are not merely personal values or opinions, they’re institutions. Whether they want daughters or not, families without sons have no more power to change the cultural traditions that have shaped their communities for over two millennia than they do the government that restricts their economic and reproductive options.