While there is so much that I love about China and its people, there are also things that I can't reconcile with. This past week has been hell for me. It has made me doubt what I am doing here, who I am doing it for and how much longer I can stand it.
I knew when I signed up for this gig that essentially I would be working for the Chinese government. I underestimated the fear it inspires, control it wields and motives it claims it has. Let me explain.
Everyday stories come across my computer. I edit them- not just for grammar but for journalistic integrity. Are we being balanced and covering both sides? Are there facts to back up these statements? How does this impact people? Who is the source of information? I question everything. But at the end of the day, Xinhua is the voice of the government. We are its spokespeople, how it gets across its point of view.
In the beginning, I managed to go to work everyday because I was teaching people how to approach stories differently. How to see things from outside the confines of what society has taught them since they were children. I justified my work as a glimmer of hope from within. The seeds I planted would grow. The leaders of tomorrow working with skills learned today. Was I naive? Idealistic? I found out the answer to that last week.
I read an article in China Daily about researchers from Peking University who studied the effects of melamine on children's kidneys. When I first got here in September, 2008, the story was just breaking. 300,000 kids were sick from drinking baby formula that contained melamine- an industrial chemical used to make watered down milk seem higher in protein content. Dairy producers had been doing it for months. I believe the authorities knew about the sick kids but covered it up because China didn't want to look bad during the Olympics. At least this is what colleagues hinted at.
More than a year later, I still feel passionate about letting the world know about this story. These families spent months in the hospital, innocent babies were dying and China let them die to put on a good face for the games.
I am not alone in feeling the gravity of this event. Researchers from Peking University, the most prestigious school in China, studied the effects of melamine in kids who got sick. They went to villages 6 months after the children had been discharged from the hospital and conducted ultrasounds on their kidneys. They found that 14% still had medical issues related to the melamine poisoning. Of those, none were receiving treatment because the government didn't let them know it was necessary and isn't paying for it. The researchers called for further action and follow-ups for all the kids impacted in the Canadian Medical Journal, where their results were published.
I put all the elements together, used the China Daily article and the original research to write a package for our show. Not long after I send it to the releaser, I hear her boots stamping my way.
"We can't use this story," she says.
"Why?"
"The study was published in a foreign journal, not one from China."
"We do stories all the time about Chinese scientists getting their work published in foreign journals. It is something the government encourages them to do and something we are encouraged to publicize."
"But it was not published in China."
"The newspaper, which is owned by the government, China Daily, published the results of the study. We are owned by the government as well. Why can't we air it?"
"We don't know if the data is correct."
"You are doubting research from people at the best, government-funded university in the country?"
"They could be wrong."
"Then we attribute the information to the source, thus relieving us of that responsibility."
"But the government hasn't said anything about this study."
"Do we have to wait for a government response to every issue before we run a story?"
"No, but in this instance we better."
"Why? Because this makes the government look callous?"
"I just think we should wait."
The run around continued. She thought of every excuse she could not to run the story. I thought of every counter argument I could. In the end, emotions took hold.
"You know very well why you aren't letting me run this story. You are afraid of how it makes China look."
"We are the voice of the government. If we run the story, we are endorsing the research."
"We can attribute the research to the sources. Why are you so scared to air this?"
"We can't."
"How as a human being can you live with yourself? These are sick kids. You are covering this up to save face. These kids are dying, they need help and if you don't run this story it will be on your conscious. I don't understand how another human being could do that," I said through the tears.
"You have to understand the difficult position I am in. I will lose my job."
"I know how hard it is to do what you do. At the end of the day, you have to make tough decisions. Isn't this worth getting in trouble for?"
"I know you are right. I know the story is good. You know what will happen to me if you run it. How can you ask me to put my job on the line?"
At the end of the day, I couldn't ask her that. All I could ask was that she make a tough choice and she did. She killed my story. In the process, she killed my hope for what China and what my employer could become. On that day, we weren't the voice of the people, we were the voice that keeps the people in the dark. I feel dark. I feel hopeless.
I spend my time, my energy, my resources training people here how to be what journalists are supposed to be- the voice of the people. When it comes to the tough decisions, I want people to stand up for what's right. This taught me that even though they get what I am teaching, they won't practice it. They can't. The system won't let them.
I don't blame the releaser I got into an argument with. She is in a job I would never want to do. She is ultimately responsible for what goes over the airwaves. It has to match the message of the communist party. They sign her paycheck, could make her life hell. She chose what was best for her and her family. I understand her position. I just don't know anymore what mine is? Where do I fit in? Where do I go from here? How can I go on? Am I working for the devil? Am I helping a corrupt government?
I would like to think the answer is no. I would like to think I am working for the greater good, but at the end of the day it is all out of our hands. There is nothing to control, only people to see being controlled and that makes me incredibly sad. It also makes me frustrated because I just don't know what to do.
This picture might have you asking, WTF? Me too. Turns out, there was a sandstorm in Beijing Saturday. The sky was bright orange as you can see from this picture. As a journalist, I have to give credit to Xinhua photographers for this. I was not dumb enough... er uh should I brave, yes, that's the word, to go out in said sandstorm.
You could definitely smell it. The air in my apartment tasted like dirt. Blowing your nose yielded chunks of brown. I had my windows open just a crack and the floors in my kitchen and bathroom had a thin veil on them- just like these cars. It was very weird.
When I did go outside later in the day, I wore a scarf wrapped around my head and sunglasses. My friend Jeremy called me Jihad Gretchen. Funny shit. I wasn't the only one who was trying to protect my lungs....
Beijing was oddly quite that day. It was truly a WTF moment. To read more about the sandstorm, I posted an article from Xinhua from Saturday. Of course, everything in there is the absolute truth and shouldn't be taken as a grain of salt, or should I sand?
