“I tried to minimize my Chinese-ness” |
It was 9:30 p.m. on a breezy Friday in California, and Guowei picked me up in Santa Clara for his last ride of the day.
After realizing I’m also Chinese, he was eager to chat during our hour-long trip to San Francisco. Guowei, in his forties, immigrated to the US from his hometown in southeastern China eight years ago. He got a green card, became a father, and bought a flat. But “only God knows if it’s a good move or not,” he said.
Guowei is one of many Chinese people who have moved to the San Francisco Bay Area in recent years, drawn by the myriad opportunities in the region’s sprawling tech economy.
But lately, as tensions between the US and China have escalated, life is getting more difficult for some Chinese transplants. That can manifest itself in big ways—anti-Asian violence has climbed in California since the start of the pandemic—and very small ones.
For example, because technology is a flashpoint in the US-China rivalry, some tools Chinese people use all the time don’t work in America. Guowei said he can no longer find a Huawei smartphone at Best Buy, following the Trump administration’s moves against the Shenzhen-based company deemed a national security threat. Meanwhile, the US-based Hotmail and Google Maps apps he used to use in China are now blocked by the government there. “Everything is political,” Guowei said.
It’s not just apps and gadgets. During my trip in the US, I spoke with more than a half dozen Chinese tech workers: Many said they found it difficult to move beyond coding into roles like product or operations, or knew people who did. One of them asked me for tips on making small talk with his boss, something he felt compelled to do, but found awkward. Several people acutely felt the presence of tech’s bamboo ceiling, shorthand for the reluctance to promote people of Asian descent into high-ranking jobs.
Yet for many workers, going back to China doesn’t seem like a great option either. Top among their concerns is the country’s more grueling work culture, and the lower compensation packages at internet giants like ByteDance Ltd. and Tencent Holdings Ltd. The idea of “involution,” a kind of profound burnout or ennui, has spread through China’s youth as unemployment rates surge and economic growth slows.
In the US, Chinese people are working through the various cultural and economic challenges. “I tried to minimize my Chinese-ness,” said Jing Hao, a 28-year-old product manager in New York. “If you want to gain trust at work, you are not supposed to be too vocal about your own culture.” That frustration propelled Hao to quit his job at a fintech startup earlier this year. Now he runs an event space called “Half Half,” which seeks to bridge the gap between the East and West.
Guowei, the driver, has so far resisted most pressures to conform. “My wife goes to a Taiwanese church now,” he told me. “I still believe in my Buddha.” —Zheping Huang