“Language is the blood of the soul into which thoughts run and out of which they grow.”
This quote by Oliver Wendell Holmes hung framed in a hallway of the classroom building at Beijing Language and Cultural University (BLCU). It reminded students of the Harvard-Beijing Academy (HBA), an intense summer school program held in Beijing in which students study Mandarin for nine weeks, how a new language would bring new experiences.
HBA students learn two semesters’ worth of Chinese in two months, making the program very rigorous. In addition to five hours of class, dictation preparation, daily homework, and weekly exams, students participate in extracurricular activities throughout the week, go on weekend excursions to famous historical and cultural sites in Beijing, and partake in a week-long “Social Study” trip in which they research a social issue or cultural aspect of China.
I found that complete immersion in the language also meant immersion in the Chinese culture. I quickly realized I knew little about Chinese history or culture, and found that learning Mandarin also meant I absorbed the peculiarities, failures, and successes of China. Yet, just as being an outsider to the language meant I had trouble learning, so did my status as an outsider slow my understanding of some customs and political issues.
Some things that I learned were reassuring. By gaining a better understanding of Chinese culture, I came to understand and care about contemporary societal issues in China. These issues include environmental pollution, overpopulation, urbanization, traffic, a flawed education system, oppression of ethnic minorities, gradual extinction of Chinese dialects, imbalanced or broken family structures, government censorship, and political corruption. Furthermore, I gained insight into Chinese people’s views on various political events, figures, and issues, such as the Cultural Revolution of the sixties and seventies, Mao Zedong, North Korea, Taiwan, and Tibet.
With all of these social and political issues in mind, I was aghast to discover the extent of the diffusion of responsibility, the lack of political efficacy, and the lack of awareness of current or past political affairs among the public. It shocked me to learn that one of my teachers had not known about the Tiananmen massacre until college; that she was ignorant of China’s treatment of North Korean refugees; that she believed the Chinese government sincerely wanted to be “friends” with all governments; and that she blindly trusted that the Chinese government would do what was best for the people.
It disheartened me to hear another teacher tell me that there was not much possibility of drastically reducing Beijing’s air pollution; to hear one teacher proclaim that Taiwan was not a country; and to rarely hear teachers even mention the name Tibet, let alone discuss the issue. Meanwhile, it surprised me to hear another teacher sharply criticize the Cultural Revolution yet wholeheartedly praise Mao Zedong.
Despite such unhappy findings, I felt encouraged by the regularity with which Chinese natives discussed contemporary social issues, whether it be that of environmental pollution or overpopulation. Also, hearing about some solutions that the government created, such as the creation of schools specifically designated for the children of migrant workers from the countryside, proved promising. More importantly, I distinctly remember one of my teachers sincerely expressing to me her love of China and her hope for the future of her country. Perhaps it is from this love of country that she derives her passion to teach students Mandarin. I realize now that many Chinese citizens behold China just as many Americans behold the United States—with deep love and patriotism—and I believe this love of country will tide over China as it undergoes significant social change.
By gradually understanding Chinese culture, recognizing the Chinese patriotic spirit, and developing close ties with the native Chinese, I came to better understand the human soul. Furthermore, I realized that language truly is “the blood of the soul”—the mechanism through which humans express the thoughts and feelings of the soul.