This one's for the kids

I go to Beijing every month. 

No, I haven't seen the Forbidden City. Or Tiananmen Square. Or anything famous, really. 

They're great sights, and I'm sure someday I'll see them--but I don't go to Beijing for those things. Every month, I join a group of other American teachers to visit an orphanage. This was one of the ideas of another teacher from my program; she was in China last Spring for a short trip and worked closely with this particular orphanage. She was so moved by the experience that she decided to move to China as an English Teacher so that she could spend more time at the orphanage. This is why she came to China for the year.

That was a pretty clear message to me--that a place, that the experience there was so powerful that she would spend at least a year living in a (very) foreign country to experience more and give more. When she told the other American teachers in our program that she'd be going to visit each month, I figured that was something I needed to be a part of. 

So here I am, after three visits, feeling the way she does about the place. (Maybe. I don't know--I'm not her. Whatever.) I've gone each month, I'll be going again in a week, and I'll continue going until I leave this place or die or both (yes, both). 

Our first visit in September was my first visit to an orphanage of any kind. It made me wonder why I had never done it before. Laziness, probably. Or indifference. Or maybe it's just easier to "deal" with difficult social/national issues and problems when you're in someone else's backyard.

I vividly remember the first visit, especially seeing the incredible joy that filled the children when they saw and recognized my teacher friend who'd been there in the Spring. They ran to her arms. I'd never had a child run into my arms before, and seeing that scene was powerful to me. I instantly realized why children--especially Chinese children--are so beautiful (and sometimes stinky, but still mostly beautiful). They had such joy and excitement. And they wasted no time--we played right away. We played games. We laughed. We ate food. We did all the things children should do. They are happy children because they are loved. 

Sadly, this does not appear to be the norm. I fully realize that the problem of neglected orphans extends beyond China, as orphanages in any country are depressing places to be sure (with many notable exceptions of course), but Chinese ones seem to have a particular brokenness. My discussions with others about their personal experiences have painted a desolate picture, but it's hard to gauge; I haven't seen any truly disparaging scenes with my own eyes, and I may never see such things. As a foreigner (and thus, de facto judge of Chinese civility, humaneness, and dignity), I have to suspect that some things shown to me will be veiled. The challenge is always knowing which things I see and experience genuinely, and which things have a foreign-friendly facade of aesthetics and morals. My visit to a different "orphanage" in Qinhuangdao this last Saturday was a mystifying experience, mostly because I have reasons to believe many of the children--the suspiciously happy and well-dressed children--weren't actually orphans. I have a strong inkling that there's a whole secret world of orphanages that someone of my status will never see. 


But maybe I'm wrong. I must admit I am speculating, so I should be careful. I will say, however, that many Chinese orphans are often not technically orphans--their parents just don't want them. Many are rejected by the parents because they have a physical or mental condition. Others suffered debilitating or distorting accidents or diseases. I won't pretend to know what cultural or societal reasons would compel a person to reject their own flesh and blood (nor should you), but I can assume that being rejected by your parents has to be one of the most agonizing experiences a child might endure. 

Yet despite that, these children are filled with joy. They are loved, and they are cared for. At this particular orphanage, they receive mostly children with mental and physical conditions, largely because this Beijing orphanage is known for the incredible love and care that the children receive, not to mention a relatively high adoption rate. It is certainly a special orphanage in this regard. While it is not the only orphanage in China to provide such (relatively) positive environs for orphans (albeit still quite nominal), it is of a rare quality--few exist like it. And I think I can say that for almost any country, not just China. Regardless, it is a mixed bag: these particular children are in the best place possible for them as far as orphanages go, yes, but what about all the other Chinese orphans? Especially the ones with mental or physical conditions? What will they do? What will happen?


I know a few answers. I know that once a child turns a certain age (14, if I recall), he or she comes under the legal guardianship of China. That's a euphemistic way of saying the child will be taken from the orphanage and put into a "labor preparatory school." That's not the name, but I don't really know what else to call it. It's a place where a child can be turned into a factory drone. 


My mind is tempted to make lots of accusations. Accusations about this country, this government, these people. I'm angry about this. I'm confused. I'm bewildered. But I can't (and won't) allow myself to blame or hate. I can't allow myself to point fingers. I must remember that 99% of the people in this country are incredibly kind, gentle, and loving. I must love the few people who would treat a child like a disposable commodity. (And I will quickly point out that every country has big problems in one way or another, not just China. I'm certain that other countries also have this issue with desolate orphanage conditions and parents abandoning children. I'd bet similar things happen in the U.S.--to a different extent, perhaps--but it's not just China with abysmal conditions.) 


My first step is to understand. I've gleaned some understanding from the orphanage director, and other teachers, and I will continue to add more to my experience. I am curious, and somewhat apprehensive, to see what I discover. It helps me to remember that everyone, everywhere has problems. The U.S. has some pretty big problems too that make me frustrated and sad. China has many wonderful and beautiful things. I must remember to discover and ponder both. It also helps to think about the kids. They are proof that He exists. I see their smiles and forget (as I think they do too) that they are orphans. It doesn't matter that I don't know enough Chinese and they don't know enough English. It doesn't matter that I'm from the U.S. and they are from China. There's something ineffable about the moments there. 

Perhaps these pictures can say more than I can:

This is my favorite little girl--she calls me "big brother."

Probably the cutest thing I've ever seen. (Kristin, another teacher friend, is there on the right.)

Tim, teacher friend, with the rambunctious boy known affectionately as "Bruiser."

My favorite little boy. I snapped this shot looking down as he clenched my legs. You can't buy things like this.

Same boy. Look at that smile. 

I am discovered with my camera. Curiosity ensues. 

Bruiser beckons me to come play with him. I oblige.  

I am starting to fall in love with China. It has problems, like any country, and I will sort them out as best as I can. This post isn't meant to bash China. It's meant to engage the abysmal circumstances. Every country has them--I just happen to see China's because I live here. A Chinese person living in the U.S. would certainly have some troubling things they could blog about too. But really, this post is about the kids. They are in need, and I'm going to use my blog to help. 


Here's the part where I ask you for money. 


For Christmas, the other teachers and I want to get gifts for the children, mostly because they have nothing. Also because they have nothing. Some of the gifts will include proper winter clothing, other gifts will be toys. But we need your help, and more specifically, your money. I won't beg. I won't plea. I won't be mad if you don't. All I can do is ask. So please, consider a gift to these children. 


If you'd like, you can send money to me via my PayPal account since this is infinitely easier than any other way. This does require that you have a PayPal account yourself, but setting one up is quick and easy and simple and good and really? you don't have five minutes for the kids? and it's useful because you can use your new account for lots of other things too. When sending money through PayPal, you'll be asked to include the recipient's email. Just put my gmail address (justin.crull@gmail.com) and you're all set. 


Should you desire, you can also donate to the orphanage directly by going to their website. This money wouldn't go toward Christmas gifts, but it is always needed because the orphanage is not state-run, meaning all funding comes from private sources. Perhaps this is a way you can give in the future? Think about it. 


It has been a changing experience to visit these children each month. They are a reminder that life is still beautiful and full of worthwhile things. They are a humble reminder that I'm pretty darn fortunate to have the things I have (thanks, Dad and Mom...and America). They are a reminder that I have no right to complain. And they are a reminder that the best things in life, the most powerful and beautiful things, just might be the least of these. He was on to something, that one guy. You know what I mean.