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Virtual Idols, Real Fans

Virtual idol industry is booming in China, attracting millions of fans who chat and play with their idols online
By Ella Lang

Li Jingyuan became a fan of A-SOUL this April, after accidentally clicking into their live streaming channel on BiliBili, a Chinese video-sharing platform. “It was interesting to watch their live streaming,” Li says.

“They read fans’ live comments, chat with fans, and play games designed for interaction with fans when live streaming. I feel like I am a close friend of theirs,” the Year Two university student says.

Debuted on December 11, 2020, A-SOUL is a virtual girl group created by Yuehua Entertainment and technologically assisted by ByteDance. The group has five members, who are Ava, Bella, Carol, Diana, and Eileen.

The virtual girl group has 288,000 fans on BiliBili. Their latest single Super Sensitive was released on May 1, 2021,and it received over 4 million views and 156,000 likes on BiliBili as of December 6, 2021.

A-SOUL is a virtual idol group with five members (Photo Courtesy of A-SOUL’s official Weibo account)

Though Li is a student with no income, he has spent approximately RMB ¥1,500 (US $235) from his pocket money on buying animation merchandises including a fan-made doll and virtual presents on BiliBili.

Recognising himself as an animation, comics, and games (ACG) lover, Li pays very little attention to real Chinese stars. He says A-SOUL is his first and only idol.

“If A-SOUL were real human beings, I probably would not have become their fan,” Li says.

“Real idols’ fan groups are too alienating. For example, raising funds through personal channels, voting from day to night, and battling with other fan groups. And here comes the Qinglang campaign to regulate them. I feel lucky to be in a harmonious and peaceful fan community,” he adds.

Li Jingyuan received A-SOUL member Carol’s fan-made doll this October (Photo courtesy of Li Jingyuan)

The Qinglang campaign was introduced by the Cyberspace Administration of China in June to regulate “chaotic” online fan club activities.

Apart from A-SOUL, a new wave of China-born virtual stars is emerging, such as Yousa from BiliBili or Xing Tong (星瞳), a virtual idol from Tencent.

Virtual idols can be roughly divided into two categories, both using avatars as performance fronts. One is a virtual singer, represented by Luo Tianyi (洛天依) and Hatsune Miku (初音未來). Their vocals are synthesised using Yamaha’s Vocaloid, a voice synthesiser software, which allows users to pay for voice database and compose songs.

The other type is a virtual Youtuber or virtual live streamer like A-SOUL. Behind the virtual idol, there is a real human actor who never shows up on camera. By using motion capture technology or software, the actor’s movements and expressions are reflected on the virtual image.

The scale of the virtual idol industry in China increased 70.3 per cent year on year to RMB ¥3.46 billion (US $540 million) in 2020. It is predicted to reach RMB ¥6.22 billion (US $970 million) this year, according to Chinese data mining and analysis platform iiMedia Research.

Love across Screens

Alex Guo became a fan of A-SOUL after watching its member Diana’s birthday live streaming on March 7, which was his first click on A-SOUL’s live channel.

“I was impressed by the heart-to-heart communication between Diana and fans. I became her fan when she read letters from fans and shed tears,” Guo says.

So far, Guo has spent RMB ¥1,000 (US $156) on buying animation merchandises and virtual presents. He uploaded A-SOUL’s spoof videos on BiliBili in June and August 2021, which attracted 970,000 total views as of December 7, 2021.

“In fact, A-SOUL’s appearance,vocal and dance skills are not outstanding compared to other virtual Youtubers. But they continue to improve. I am glad to witness their progress,” Guo says.

In the fan group, some fans produce songs for virtual singers. Steven Tan, a fan of the first Mandarin-speaking virtual singer Luo Tianyi, is one of them.

“As a composer with no reputation and not enough budget, it was difficult to find a singer for my compositions. So I thought virtual singer was a good choice,” he says.

Tan bought three virtual singers’ vocal databases, each at a price of around RMB ¥500 (US $79). He composed 36 songs and released five albums. All songs were sung by virtual singers.

“I think virtual singers can overcome the limitations of real singers. Virtual singers never get tired, and they can reach a very high pitch,” Tan says.

“A virtual singer can sing thousands of songs in a month because its vocal database is accessible to anyone who pays. But it may take months for a real singer to release one song,” he adds.

Steven Tan’s NetEase CloudMusic page

“I think virtual singers can overcome the limitations of real singers. Virtual singers never get tired, and they can reach a very high pitch,” Tan says.

Still a Long Way to Go

Anthony Fung Ying-him, professor of the School of Journalism and Communication at the Chinese University of Hong Kong, thinks virtual idols in China have a bright future.

“The Qinglang Campaign influences real stars by measures such as shutting down accounts and cracking down on fan activities, but it will not affect virtual idols and their fans. This helps the virtual idol industry to grow,” he says.

Fung points out that the core attraction of virtual idols is the interaction between fans and idols. “Virtual idol fans can chat, play games with, and produce content for their idols. It is almost impossible for real idol fans to approach  their idols,” he says.

“But there is still a long way to go for virtual idols to replace real idols. It is hard for virtual idols to reach diverse groups of people because it is essentially a kind of subculture,” Fung adds.

Edited by Eve Lee

Edited by Eve Lee
Sub-edited by Lynne Rao

The Market Never Sleeps

Vendors recall the good old days at the Yau Ma Tei Fruit Market ahead of an urban renewal plan that aims to revitalise the market into a tourist attraction.

By Gloria Chan Yi-lam

Stacks of boxes with fresh fruit from different countries fill up Waterloo Road, Shek Lung Street, and Reclamation Street. Middle-aged workers yell fruit names against the buzz of rumbling electric pallet jacks.

Hectic and chaotic it might seem, fruit vendors begin just another ordinary day of work at midnight in Yau Ma Tei Wholesale Market, Hong Kong’s biggest fruit market.

Like his fellow vendor, Jacky from Raw Fruit, a small stall on Waterloo Road of the market, starts his day at midnight. 

“We arrive at the airport to collect fruit at around 10 p.m. and return to the fruit market at around 12 a.m. Our stall closes at around 4 a.m. after our customers pick up fruit they order from us,” says Jacky, owner of the stall, who declines to reveal his full name.

Jacky and his partner started doing fruit wholesale business five years ago. They took over the fruit stall from their mentor who taught them how to do business.

“My partner and I looked for fruit suppliers as we wanted to start a fruit stall. This is how we met our mentor. It is fate,” he recalls.

“My mentor operated the stall for around 30 years. We took over the stall after he migrated,” he says.

Jacky learns the industry’s vibrant history from his mentor. “There were more than a hundred fruit stalls before a fire accident in 2016…Those were the good old days of the fruit market. Now only around 30 stalls remain,” he sighs.

  • Jacky places boxes of fruit to his truck for delivery. The tailboard of his truck lifts up both himself and the electric pallet jack.

A three-alarm fire broke out at a stall near Shek Lung Street in Yau Ma Tei Wholesale Market on September 4, 2016. At least 10 fruit stalls were destroyed.

“Some stalls were destroyed and closed down after the fire. Fewer people are joining this business. The industry starts to die down,” he says.

Yau Ma Tei Wholesale Market was built in 1913. Originally named “Government Vegetables Market”, it once handled nearly all fresh food sold in Kowloon. In 1965, the government relocated the wholesale of vegetables, poultry, and fish to Cheung Sha Wan. Since then, the market has only operated wholesale business of fruit. 

Commonly known as “guo laan”, meaning “fruit market” in Cantonese, the market stretches along Shek Lung Street. It was classified as a Grade 2 historic building by the Antiquities Advisory Board in 2009, covering an area of roughly 14,000 square metres. 

Jacky says there are unwritten rules about the fruit market operation.

“Vendors can place fruit boxes on one of the two traffic lanes of Reclamation Road and Waterloo Road after 9 p.m.,” he says.

Electric pallet jacks and cars are using the only traffic lane on both sides of Waterloo Road.

“Since some wholesale customers order a large amount of fruit, this (placing fruit boxes on traffic lanes) is convenient for them to collect their fruit,” he adds.

Over the years, Jacky has built a close tie with the customers. “There are loyal customers who have been buying fruit from our stall for many years,” he says, adding that he sells fruit to them at cost price to thank them for their support.

Despite this, Jacky says sometimes they are misunderstood. “Our burly figure makes others think we are unfriendly. But vendors are actually nice and patient. We share knowledge about fruit with customers and show them how to pick good quality fruit. It is okay to ask us questions, we will not scold you out of the blue,” he says.

  • Electric pallet jacks are jammed in the middle of Waterloo Road.
  • A vendor offers big green grapes as free samples for customers.

But the flavour of the market is about to change.

The Urban Renewal Authority proposed a plan to revitalize Yau Ma Tei Wholesale Fruit Market to the Legislation Council in September this year. 

Under the proposed plan, the market will be turned into a tourist spot, complemented by a new boutique hotel, open space and an art and cultural area. The wholesale operations will be relocated to a commercial building near the market at Hau Cheung Street.

Jacky finds the change hard to swallow. 

“The flavour will be changed when the appearance and the location are changed. This is like copying Japan’s Shinsaibashi and pasting it into Hong Kong. People will not come once the original spirit is gone,” he sighs. 

This is like copying Japan’s Shinsaibashi and pasting it into Hong Kong. People will not come once the original spirit is gone.

Jacky is not the only one who doubts the urban renewal plan. Suzanne Wu Sui-shan, former chairman of Working Group on Concern for Yau Ma Tei Fruit Market, says some fruit vendors do not want to turn the market into a tourist spot. 

“Most fruit vendors think that their main customers are not tourists but people who live in the neighbourhood,” says Wu, who was also a district councilor in Yau Ma Tei for the past year.

Also she thinks the redevelopment plan will not solve traffic and noise problems in the district.

“Their (fruit vendors’) pallet jacks always occupy traffic lanes, which causes traffic jams,” she says, adding that the relocation will simply shift the traffic problems to another place.

Wu says there is a need to strike a balance between conservation and development. “(The government) does not necessarily have to destroy something old in order to develop the city,” she says. 

  • Fruit vendors occupy traffic lanes of Waterloo Road with fruit boxes and pallet jacks at 9 p.m.
  • Fruit vendors clear up the traffic lanes gradually, while vehicles drive past smoothly at 6 a.m.

Edited by Kelly Yu
Sub-edited by Isaiah Hui

Turning Time into Love and Money

NGOs run time banks to build social capital in a caring community.

By Winkie Ng

Living in Shek Kip Mei with many elderlies, Wong Kit-ling, a participant of the Sham Shui Po Sham Shum Fook Time Bank scheme, has helped to run exercise classes for the elderly since November 2021.

She first joined the scheme in March 2021 to help a blind elderly buy food and cook meals.

“Some disabled elderlies need help for daily living. Seeking help has been more difficult after many district councillors resigned. Even if some organizations can offer help, they charge around HK$80 to HK$90 per hour. Not everyone can afford it,” the 67-year-old woman sighs.

Under the Sham Shum Fook time bank scheme, participants can earn time credits at a rate of one time credit per minute by doing social services. They can either spend them on participating in services, trainings and activities or donate them.

Wong thinks the scheme is meaningful to ageing communities like Shek Kip Mei as elderlies there need Sham Shum Fook. She says that the scheme makes the community full of love and care.

“The core value of the scheme is promoting mutual aid in elderly communities. This is the goal we set in our first meeting,” she says.

The core value of the scheme is promoting mutual aid in elderly communities.

Across the City

Ko Ming-hui, a supervisor of Sham Shum Fook, has assisted elderlies to run a time bank in Tseung Kwan O since 2016 under Hong Kong Sheng Kung Hui Welfare Council.

“Upon retirement, I have co-organised Sham Shum Fook with People Serving Centre, an NGO serving the underprivileged in Sham Shui Po. As what the elderlies living in Tseung Kwan O hope, we promote time banks in Hong Kong,” the former social worker says.

Since March 2021, Ko has assisted the Sham Shum Fook preparation committee to run the time bank by promoting it to more people.

“I try to raise people’s awareness by explaining the scheme and interacting with Sham Shui Po residents during briefing sessions,” she says.

Ko thinks recruiting members is difficult as they lack manpower and resources to promote the scheme to the whole community. The scheme now has 40 members.

“Sham Shui Po is too big. We are now promoting in two estates by setting street counters and distributing leaflets, but many other estates have not been covered,” she says.

The Pioneer

Another time bank advocator, Dora Cheng Shuke-ching, had been involved in a time bank scheme named St. James Settlement Community-Oriented Mutual Economy Project (COME) before leaving in 2017.

COME, which targeted Wan Chai residents, was launched in December 2001 to promote using time coupons to exchange goods and services.

“People can join COME after understanding the whole project and the concept of the time bank. Members will receive time coupons when they complete voluntary services, such as household cleaning and childcare. Later when they need help, they can use time coupons to exchange for goods and services,” she explains.

The first event they had was a bazaar in Wan Chai in 2002. There were stalls of traditional craftmanship, such as threading and Chinese paper cutting. Members and stall owners used time coupons in exchange for services and products with one another.

“For example, some farmers sold vegetables to get time coupons, which they could use to exchange for foods or recruit members to help with farming,” she adds.

They then held more diversified events including tutorial class matchings. Now COME has around 2000 members.

According to an evaluation study on COME conducted by the Hong Kong Polytechnic University in 2015, over 170 COME members were polled and more than half of them thought COME improved living standard and community connections.

Cheng is now an entrepreneur selling organic foods and healthy products. Using what she has learnt at St. James’ Settlement, she plans to adopt the concept of the time bank to her business for the sake of community mutual supports.

“I am still thinking of ways to exchange time. The target group will be the middle class or people who understand the concept of green money. For example, I will collect time coupons when I teach tea brewing,” she says.

Dora Cheng Shuke Ching teaching tea brewing and selling organic health products in her shop located in Prince Edward.

Development of Time Banks

Wong Hung, an associate professor from the Department of Social Work at the Chinese University of Hong Kong, was one of the advisors of COME in 2001.

He says time banks can either exchange voluntary services or community currencies.

“In the past, voluntary services were not recorded, which means you may only gain happiness and certificates. But now time banks encourage more people to be volunteers by donating their time. Then they can store their serving hours for taking services as rewards in the future,” he explains.

For the latter type, he says it can help with the community economy as it confines the consumption and production of goods and services to the local community.

Wong says the concept of the time bank, which originated in the United States in 1980s, has now spread to other European, South American, and Asian countries.

Sham Shum Fook preparation committee members having a meeting in Shek Kip Mei.

He thinks the development of time banks in Hong Kong is still at its infant stage.

“It is a community work that needs help from social workers. But now the government has no funding for it. Social workers need to use their time and source fundings to run time bank. The biggest difficulty is that social workers do not have sufficient resources,” he explains.

It is a community work that needs help from social workers. But now the government has no funding for it. Social workers need to use their time and source fundings to run time bank. The biggest difficulty is that social workers do not have sufficient resources.

But he still believes the time bank has its potential in Hong Kong by adopting the UK experience, which is having small time banks in different communities to form a bigger time bank.

“It is because the ageing population in Hong Kong is increasing. Retirees have higher educational levels so they can handle applications for using time banks better,” he says.

Edited by Isaiah Hui
Sub-edited by Gloria Wei

New Blood for Font Design Family

By Felicia Lam

Hong Kong computer font designers introduce Cantonese characters in new digital typeface designs, fueling the city’s rise of Cantonese culture.

Have you ever wondered where computer fonts like Times New Roman and Arial come from? These commonly used English fonts are produced by font designers using computer software. In the Google Fonts library platform, there are only 12 sets of Chinese typographies or just one per cent of the whole free and open-source font family. The rest are mostly English typography. With increasing interest in Chinese and Cantonese culture in Hong Kong, font designers find demand for traditional Chinese and Cantonese fonts has grown.

Eddie Yuen Hing-cheong designed Hard Gothic（硬黑體）in 1997. He learnt how to draw and design fonts with software himself. It took him four years to finish the typeface as he needed to design 5,000 traditional Chinese digital fonts.

Eddie Yuen Hing-cheong, designer of traditional Chinese font Hard Gothic (硬黑體), sells his font sets on his website. (Photo courtesy of Eddie Yuen Hing-cheong)

“I was inspired by Choi Kai-yan, a famous graphic designer. I have become interested and even fallen in love with traditional Chinese character designs. I find that there are so many possibilities for traditional Chinese characters designs,” he says.

Yuen’s traditional Chinese font with bold and straight strokes was put on sale in 2002 for $300 per set. He gave up selling his font design three years later because of his busy work as a door plate manufacturer to maintain his living. He only sold 40 sets of fonts making a few thousand dollars in the end.

Comics by DDED, a local comic artist who uses Eddie Yuen Hing-cheong’s font design. (Photo courtesy of DDED)

“I also have to take care of my kids and make a living to take care of my family. I think it is impossible for a full-time font designer in Hong Kong to survive,” he adds.

But Yuen decided to revamp his font design after learning that his font design was used by DDED, a local comic artist, in his comic book in 2016. He finished revamping his font design in 2018 and added more traditional Chinese characters to his design.

“I THINK IT IS IMPOSSIBLE TO SURVIVE AS A FULL-TIME INDIVIDUAL FONT DESIGNER IN HONG KONG.”

“I added Cantonese characters like 「㗎 」 and 「𠻹」in my design to meet stronger demand for fonts for typing Cantonese,” Yuen says.

Yuen finds adding Cantonese characters to his font design has brought convenience to users who create artworks using computer software.

“Before my revamp, comic artists like DDED had to draw Cantonese characters using illustration software instead of directly typing them out. He now can just type Cantonese characters using the set of fonts that I designed, which is more convenient,” he says.

Similar to Yuen, Roy Chan Ching-hin, owner of Moodmen Font, which is an online shop selling products with artistic character designs, also observes growing demand for traditional Chinese font sets with Cantonese words in the city.

Roy Chan Ching-hin is the owner of Moodmen Font, a store which sells products printed with artistic traditional Chinese character designs. (Photo courtesy of Roy Chan Ching-hin)

He and his teammates realised that there was a problem of lacking a font for eye-catching titles for media content like YouTube video thumbnails years ago, and they wanted to solve this problem with a new font design.

“Our team did some research on market demand for font design which is used for eye-catching titles. We also asked whether people would like to pay for our design in the research,” he says.

After the research, the team developed Moodmen Reborn Font（思緒重生體）, a font design with bold and angular strokes, in 2020.

Chan’s team is working on their font design which will be launched in early 2022. (Photo courtesy of Roy Chan Ching-hin)

With the new design, the team believes that this can help promote font design in Hong Kong. “We want more people to know that there is font design in Hong Kong, and we hope that they will pay for the use of official font designs. We also hope more will join our industry,” he says.

Chan designed the characters for Moodmen Reborn Font with distinctive elements to serve the need for eye-catching titles.

“For each character, the upper part was designed to be narrower than the lower part so that its shape is similar to a trapezium. Also, I tried to leave more space between strokes so that the characters will not mash up when they are printed in small font sizes,” Chan explains.

“WE WANT MORE PEOPLE TO KNOW THAT THERE IS FONT DESIGN IN HONG KONG, AND WE HOPE THAT THEY WILL PAY FOR THE USE OF OFFICIAL FONT DESIGNS.”

“Our team has been producing products with artistic traditional Chinese characters designs for more than two years. We can work out a set of font design which is different from typical designs and promote the beauty of traditional Chinese characters with it,” he adds.

Chan also included Cantonese characters like「係」 in his design as he believes that it is part of Hong Kong culture.

Products like calendars, phone cases and postcard are sold in Chan’s store. (Photo courtesy of Roy Chan Ching-hin)

“I am a Hongkonger and I speak Cantonese every day. I do not have to think whether I should include Cantonese characters in my typography as it is natural for me to do so,” Chan says.

Kwok Bit-chee, associate professor of the Department of Chinese Language and Literature and director of the Research Centre of Cantonese at the Chinese University of Hong Kong, observes more people have become interested in Cantonese and traditional Chinese characters.

Kwok Bit-chee, associate professor of the Department of Chinese Language and Literature and Director of the Research Centre of Cantonese at the Chinese University of Hong Kong, believes Cantonese font designs can help promote Traditional Chinese culture. (Photo courtesy of Information Services Office, CUHK)

“People used to think there is no need to preserve Cantonese as it is already part of our lives. But now more people are concerned about this because of the social environment in recent years,” he says.

The scholar finds that there is a stronger interest in researching Cantonese and traditional Chinese characters in the academic circle in recent years as well.

“Many research projects by postgraduate students in our faculty are about Cantonese. Our ex-colleague, Ben Sir, is also working on preserving Cantonese culture via his social media page and media exposure,” he says.

Kwok believes that the growing interest in Cantonese font designs can help promote Cantonese culture in Hong Kong.

“Traditional Chinese characters are commonly used by publications in regions like Hong Kong and Taiwan. People love traditional Chinese font designs especially when Cantonese are included,” he says.

Edited by Mandy Yim
Sub-edited by Coco Zhang and Charlie Yip

Missing Accounts

Feminist and LGBTQ+ accounts on Chinese social media have been made disappear.

By Ryan Li

Cat Wang* and some other members of Catch-Up Sisters, a women rights concern group in China, found that they were banned from reposting feeds on their Weibo account (@CatchUp性别公正姐妹) on September 14.

Their official account had around 56,000 followers on Weibo, one of China’s biggest social media platforms, by the time it was suddenly suspended.

“Other users could not view our account page …we were made invisible (in the cyber world),” Wang says in an online interview.

Their Weibo account cannot be searched by other users from then on. A notice saying “the account cannot be viewed because of complaints on violating Weibo’s rules” appears when attempts are made to look for their account.

Catch Up Sisters opened an Instagram account after its Weibo account was suspended.

Catch Up Sisters has long been focusing on feminism and gender issues in mainland China. Their discussion on Weibo covered women reproductive rights, career development and Chinese women’s living conditions in rural areas.

Unclear Reason

Wang received a phone call from Weibo on her mobile number that was connected to their account, telling her to “avoid posting sensitive contents” on the same day.

Wang and her team asked a Weibo staff why the account was suspended, but the staff did not reveal any details.

According to China Digital Times (CDT), a California-based news website aggregating information censored on Chinese internet, at least 47 other Weibo accounts were also suspended that day.

The news website points out these social media accounts might be banned due to the second trial of Xianzi’s case at Beijing Haidian District People’s Court.

“Users who have posted and reposted information regarding the trial or expressed support towards Xianzi were censored,” CDT writes on its website in an article on September 14.

Xianzi, surnamed Zhou, accused Zhu Jun, a famous host at China’s state broadcaster CCTV, of sexually harassing the then 21-year-old intern in his dressing room in 2014. The case was seen as a landmark of China’s #MeToo movement and feminist campaigns.

Wang also suspects that their Weibo account ban was related to Xianzi’s case, as the account reposted two posts supporting the plaintiff on that day.

This is the third time Catch Up Sisters’ account has been suspended since the team’s establishment in 2016. Their previous two accounts were forcefully closed respectively in 2019 and April of 2021. No reason was given. 

“We were very angry after the first two suspensions, but we are rather calm this time. We somehow get used to it,” Wang says.

The group used to create new accounts using the same logo and adapting subtle changes to the user’s name to restart the operation. They did the same soon after the incident on September 14, but the new account (@CU姊妹) was immediately suspended, without posting anything.

“WE WERE VERY ANGRY AFTER THE FIRST TWO SUSPENSIONS, BUT WE ARE RATHER CALM THIS TIME. WE SOMEHOW GET USED TO IT.”

They opened Twitter and Instagram accounts afterwards by migrating contents from their previous accounts.  “We don’t want to waste our years of efforts made in building the account,” Wang adds.

Another Victim

Apart from social media accounts related to Metoo and feminism, discussions related to sexual minorities are also considered as sensitive contents.

On July 6, 2021, several public accounts related to sexual minority issues run by students across Chinese universities were suddenly suspended, including Purple at Tsing Hua University, Colorsworld at Peking University, and Zhihe Society at Fudan University. Their original account names were replaced by “unnamed public accounts”, which later was used by netizens to refer to the suspension of all the social media accounts by university students.

Zhihe Society, a student association at Fudan University in Shanghai focusing on gender and LGBT+ issues, also has similar experience. The society’s WeChat public account “ZhiheSociety at Fudan University” (復旦大學知和社) was suspended on July 6, 2021.

The account run by several Fudan University students hosted discussions which were academic in nature, providing readers with information including academic papers and sharing sessions related to gender or sexual minority topics, according to Jamie Cai*, one of the former core members of the society serving from September 2020 to September 2021.

WeChat posts of Zhihe Society

“We received no notice of any kind. Our public account’s main page was turned to a total blank, leaving a message saying that our account ‘has violated rules of the Administration of Internet News Information Services’,” Cai recalls.

Cai says the team of core members decided not to make an appeal. “We thought that was no use,” he adds. 

Established in 2005, Zhihe Society has been officially registered as a formal student association under Fudan University’s Youth League Committee Office. “We are one of the first LGBT-related student associations recognized by the university,” Cai says.

But their move was under the office’s close control. “They (the office) will try hard not to approve any of our offline events. Prevention of COVID-19 outbreak was always cited as the reason or should we say their excuse,” Cai says.

The society’s main social media account on WeChat was also under surveillance. The public account shared a notice in January 2021 about an upcoming sharing session on feminism at Fudan University featuring Wang Zheng, associate professor at the University of Michigan who researches feminism in China.

“Around five minutes after we published the notice, we received a phone call from the office asking us to delete it,” Cai says. “The reason given was that Professor Wang was not in a good relationship with the university,” he adds.

According to Cai, the Committee Office at Fudan University was not involved in the society’s WeChat account suspension on July 6, indicating the decision was not made by the school, but by WeChat instead.

“They (the office) had no idea about the incident when we first approached them to ask what had happened after being suspended,” Cai says.

After two months of “disappearance”, Zhihe Society resumed operation on WeChat in September 2021, using a back-up account created in 2017. In a post on September 10, the association introduced what they have done in the past two months and called for students to join them at the beginning of the school year.

Voice or Noise

Guo Lifu, a PhD student at the University of Tokyo, who has been researching LGBT+ movement and queer politics in China since 2015, finds the Chinese authorities have become more cautious about feminism and LGBT+ movement.

Guo says the current tension between China and the U.S., and Chinese president Xi Jinping’s strong attitude towards western ideologies, “have together turned these (feminism and LGBT+) issues into bargaining chips during the competitive race between the two world powers.”

“Feminism and LGBT+ thoughts are indeed imported to China from western societies. These are not included in the system of the China Communist Party, symbolizing democratization that they fear,” he adds.

“In Chinese social media ecology, some netizens even do not even know what feminism or LGBT+ rights really are. They just showcase their patriotism and anti-U.S. emotions through opposing these ‘western’ thoughts,” says Guo, viewing the situation as a consequence of “political framing”.

“FEMINISM AND LGBT+ THOUGHTS ARE INDEED IMPORTED TO CHINA FROM WESTERN SOCIETIES. THESE ARE NOT INCLUDED IN THE SYSTEM OF THE CHINA COMMUNIST PARTY, SYMBOLIZING DEMOCRATIZATION THAT THEY FEAR.”

Fang Kecheng, associate professor from the School of Journalism and Communication at the Chinese University of Hong Kong, believes the censorship cannot completely suppress these voices, as “feminism is about women’s daily lives and can cover a wide range of social issues.”

For feminist and LGBT+ social media accounts, Fang suggests that they should try to stay flexible, for example, try creating more diverse content which focuses on individual experiences and stories considered less sensitive.

“Forming deeper connections with more people within a relatively small range may work better under the current situation,” he says.

Where is Peng Shuai? Chinese Player Not Seen Since Post About Sex Assault

Peng Shuai, a Chinese top tennis player, accused the country’s former vice premier, Zhang Gaoli, of forcing her to have sexual relations in a post on Weibo, China’s Twitter-like social media platform, on the night of November 2, 2021.

The original post was quickly removed and cannot be viewed by users. Comments on Peng’s account were turned off. According to China Digital Times, names involved such as Peng Shuai, Zhang Gaoli and Kang Jie (Zhang’s wife) were listed as sensitive keywords and strictly censored.

In the 1600-word post, Peng said she had a three-year lover relationship with Zhang with knowledge of Zhang’s wife, Kang Jie. Zhang has not responded to the accusation so far.

Steve Simon, chairman and chief executive officer of Women’s Tennis Association (WTA) made an announcement on the organization’s official website calling for “full, fair and transparent investigation” into the allegations on November 14.

Peng was away from the public eye after she made the allegations on Weibo. On November 17, after Peng’s two-week disappearance, China’s state affiliated media CGTN posted a screencap of Peng’s “email to Steve Simon” on its Twitter account. The picture attached refuted previous allegations, adding that WTA should “verify” with her before posting any further news without her consent. However, WTA said the video was “insufficient evidence” of Peng’s safety.

On December 1, WTA announced immediate suspension of all tournaments in China, including Hong Kong.
Chinese feminism accounts on Instagram have paid great attention on Peng’s safety. Feminist China, based in the U.S., organized both online and offline campaigns including “#Where is Peng Shuai” to support Peng and demand justice.

*Names changed at interviewee’s request

Edited by Coco Zhang & Lynne Rao
Sub-edited by Fiona Cheung

I Cannot Leave This City

By Gabriella Lynn

While more French people leave Hong Kong during the pandemic, some are determined to stay in their adopted homes.

Born and raised in France, Elsa Jeandedieu came to Hong Kong alone in 2008 at the age of 24, upon an invitation from a childhood friend who already settled in the city for work. She decided to stay permanently after living in Hong Kong for a year.

Jeandedieu never thought of going back home, even when she struggled to keep things afloat after setting up her studio in 2015.

“When there is a challenge, I never give up. I do not want to go back to France because that would mean it is a mistake to live in Hong Kong. I want to stay here until I succeed and manage to make something with my art,” the muralist says.

Street painting allows me, a foreigner who does not speak Cantonese, to connect with the local Chinese.

Now 38, Jeandedieu is a well-known mural artist in Hong Kong. Many of her brightly coloured wall paintings, featuring big smiling faces, can be seen around the streets of Hong Kong Island, such as outside Bedu Restaurant on Gough Street and next to Lush on Cochrane Street.

“Street painting allows me, a foreigner who does not speak Cantonese, to connect with the local Chinese,” she says.

Jeandedieu has been in Hong Kong for 13 years and she plans to stay on. “I am not ready to leave Hong Kong. If I have to move elsewhere, I do not know where I could go,” she says.

Elsa Jeandedieu spent over 50 hours to complete a mural on Cochrane Street, Central in 2018.
(Photo courtesy of Elsa Jeandedieu)

Besides painting, Jeandedieu also loves to swim and run long-distance. When she is outdoors, she finds inspiration in Hong Kong’s natural scenery and feels more motivated to paint.

“I love the nature of Hong Kong. I can swim in the ocean in the morning or hike a trail after work, and I can [only do that in Hong Kong],” Jeandedieu says.

“I know a lot of French people who have been here for more than a decade. Everybody finds something they like about the city,” she adds.

An Unwavering Commitment

Just like Jeandedieu, Madeline Progin, who owns a French bookshop in Central, thinks Hong Kong’s unique mix of nature and urban skyscrapers makes it a great place to live.

But now at 68, she has been debating her future in Hong Kong after having already lived here for over 40 years.

“I am nearing the age of retirement and I think I should go back [to Switzerland], but I cannot leave this place. The bookshop is a commitment and Hong Kong is a city you get attached to,” she says. For now, Progin decides to stay, continuing to watch over the shop.

I am nearing the age of retirement and I think I should go back [to Switzerland], but I cannot leave this place.

Madeline Progin opened Parenthéses in Central in 1989 because she could not find French books easily in the city at that time.

A French Social Hub

Madeline Progin puts up photos of famous French writers and actors who attended sharing sessions on a bookshelf. The bookstore now seldom holds events due to the pandemic. 

The bookstore, called Parenthéses, is a social hub for the French and other French-speaking people.

“The name [Parenthéses] means a bracket, or a bubble, that separates you from the busy and noisy streets. You are not in Hong Kong, but in a small world that is a bit of France. Everybody here speaks French, and we usually have a French radio playing in the background,” she says.

Progin’s bookstore also hosts sharing sessions with French and Chinese writers ever so often, providing a space for the French-speaking in Hong Kong to learn and socialise.

“Being here for more than 30 years, the bookshop creates a link between France and Hong Kong,” she adds.

More people start to explore Hong Kong and visit the bookshop due to COVID-19 travel restrictions. Many French parents brought their children to the shop to read and relax in the past two summers, when customer traffic is usually low due to people traveling during the summer break.

Pandemic Makes People Leave

COVID-19 travel restrictions might have boosted the number of visitors to the French bookshop, but it has made more French people leave the city.

“COVID-19 made people rethink their plans of living abroad. Companies also realise they can operate from home and cut jobs. [There are many uncertainties currently] and people are thinking of leaving. It is a phase we have to adapt to,” says Jean-Sebastian Attié, executive director of Alliance Française Hong Kong (AFHK).

The number of French nationals in Hong Kong registered with the Consulate General of France dropped to 12,342 as of September 1, 2021, compared to 14,104 in 2019.

The number of working visas granted to French citizens dived from 2,091 in 2019 to 988 in 2020. As of September 2021, a total of 693 visas were issued, according to the Hong Kong Immigration Department.

At Parenthéses, customers stop by to bid farewell to Progin before going back to their home country.

“[Foreigners leave Hong Kong] almost every day now as the COVID-19 restrictions tighten. People want to leave because they are not able to visit their families abroad. It is sad, really, but I do hope for positive change,” Progin says.

Members of the European community have objected to the government’s strict restrictions.

In August, the Hong Kong government categorised 15 European countries, including France and Switzerland, as “high-risk”. Vaccinated Hong Kong residents who have stayed in these high-risk countries must undergo 21 days of quarantine and another seven days of self-monitoring after arriving in Hong Kong. Non-residents who have stayed in or transited through these countries are not eligible to enter Hong Kong.

Upon the announcement, the European Chamber of Commerce in Hong Kong issued an open letter to the chief executive. “…Hong Kong must open itself sooner rather than later or this new quarantine regime could lead many in the international community to question if they want to remain indefinitely trapped in Hong Kong when the rest of the world is moving on,” Chairman Frederik Gollob writes.

Edited by Hayley Wong & Gloria Wei
Sub-edited by Kelly Yu

Bullying in the Cyberworld

Body type is becoming the only concern for students trapped in social media platforms.

By Jack Deng

Middle school student Lily Xie experienced bullying and body shaming in 2020 due to her body shape for one year. The girl is no longer suffering from bullying now because her parents noticed this and got involved.

Xie says slim girls tailor their school uniform to make themselves look even slimmer and they post photos on social media like WeChat or Weibo. “I wanted to do what they did so I bought a smaller size uniform, but it did not work for me,” the 14-year-old girl says.

Xie’s classmates gave her a nickname – “fat pig”. “Boys poked my waist with their pens. It really hurt. I was afraid and embarrassed, so I just smiled and quickly walked away,” the eighth-grade girl says.

“Boys talk about girls’ pictures and leave comments to praise their body shape. But if I post my photos online, I will be a subject of ridicule,” she says.

Xie spends at least 20 hours per week on social media platforms to browse pictures of slim girls and clips about losing weight by bloggers.

A girl wears the school uniform and posts her photos on Weibo, a popular Chinese social media platform.

Journal of the American Medical Association (JAMA), a monthly peer-reviewed medical journal, published a study in July 2019 which mentioned the level of adolescents’ social media usage is a significant predictor of their depression levels. For every additional hour of social media use, depressive symptoms of teens will increase by two per cent.

According to Xie, she was once depressed but finally cured due to the help of her parents.

Xie points out: “I want to be slimmer. I want to post my selfies and have many likes as well…just like other girls who have a slender body shape. I want people to stop calling me ‘pig’.”

Xie is not alone, not only Chinese students face this dilemma. Research conducted by tech writer Paul Bischoff in 2019 surveyed more than 1,000 parents in America and asked them about whether their children had experienced cyberbullying. Around 60 per cent of them said yes.

Shen Yuefei, who has worked in a middle school in Shenzhen for over 10 years, has observed a similar trend in China.

“It is worrying to see that teenagers care about their appearance rather than their study. I find that more students nowadays suffer from bullying and depression because of their body figure,” she points out.

A middle school student wears the school uniform in Shenzhen.
(Photo Courtesy of Lily Xie)

According to a journal article issued on The Clinical Psychological Science in November 2017, compared with adolescents who spend only one hour per day, those who spend more than five hours per day on social media have a 66 per cent increased risk of suicide-related outcomes.

In March 2021, a 15-year-old student from Shen’s school attempted suicide after suffering from cyberbullying and body shaming for more than one year.

Shen recalls: “That girl has a big red birthmark on her right cheek. Other students called her ‘dinosaur’ instead of her real name. They discussed her appearance in group chats.”

“The girl had planned to jump from the second floor of the school building after a boy made fun of her look on WeChat. He posted her photo with insulting marks on her face in a group chat. The student was subsequently transferred to a private school,” she continues.

Shen reveals the school management offered RMB ￥150,000 to her parents and asked them not to speak to the media or report to the education bureau. 

Shen’s school set up a unit to handle students’ mental issues after the incident in September 2012.

 “But I have never seen anyone seeking help from the unit. Schools nowadays are trying to deal with these issues in a low-key manner,” says Shen.

Cheng Qijin, assistant professor from the social work faculty of the Chinese University of Hong Kong, believes that social media is one of the factors that affect teenagers’ mental health.

“The young generations are ‘net natives’. But their mental development is not ready to handle the cyberworld,” says Cheng.

She points out children will lack empathy, as they do not see or feel the pain of others after they have hurt someone online.

“The young generations are ‘net natives’. But their mental development is not ready to handle the cyberworld.”

“Social media platform has the responsibility to protect teenagers from harmful information like bullying or violence,” Cheng says, “They should change their profit-driven algorithms but surely the cost will be high to the social media companies.”

The social work professor who focuses her study on mental health promotion and media studies points out that strengthening media literacy education is necessary.

Cheng suggests parents give more attention to their children’s mood swings when they are using social media platforms.

“Cutting electronic devices off from children will not be a smart choice especially when teenagers are in their rebellious stages,” Cheng says.

“Parents should guide and keep their children accompanied when they are using social media. Schools should introduce guidelines on surfing on the internet in their curriculum,” she says.

“Schools should introduce guidelines on surfing on the internet in their curriculum.”

Edited by Vivian Cao

Sub-edited by Soweon Park

“Chaotic” Fandom under Clampdown

Fans have mixed feelings about Qinglang campaign that cracks down many online fan activities.

By Alina Chen

Jessica Liao found three of her Weibo accounts were banned in early October 2021. The three accounts cost her RMB ¥45 (US $7.05) on Taobao, a Chinese online shopping platform, in September 2021.  She bought the accounts to increase traffic data for her idol on Weibo, a leading social media platform in China.

“Each of them had 500 followers. I could [use them] repost a post [by my idol] for 100 times without being stopped [by Weibo censorship system],” she says.

“Idols’ popularity can be quantified by numbers [including the amounts of likes, reposts and comments]. Fans want to boost their idols’ popularity. It can help an idol’s career,” Liao adds.

Despite her strong attachment to her idol, Liao declines to disclose his name. She explains that she does not want to associate her idol to a male group survival show he participated early this year. “[That survival show] was unfortunate [with a bad reputation],” she says.

“IDOLS’ POPULARITY CAN BE QUANTIFIED BY NUMBERS [INCLUDING THE AMOUNTS OF LIKES, REPOSTS AND COMMENTS].”

To drive traffic to content related to her idol, Liao once had more than 10 Weibo accounts. She was only one of the many fans in China engaging intensively on social media platforms to promote their beloved singers or actors.

The Cyberspace Administration of China announced instructions to clean up chaos in online fandom on August 27, 2021.

But such moves are not allowed anymore. On June 15, 2021, the Cyberspace Administration of China (CAC) launched Qinglang campaign (清朗) to put an end to the “chaos” involving online fan clubs.

The CAC banned five kinds of online chaos: inducing minors contributing money to their idols, hurling abuse online and doxing, encouraging fans to flaunt their wealth, manipulating social media comments and hijacking public opinion by making up topics online.

One of the chaos is reportedly about an idol survival show called Youth With You 3 produced by iQIYI, a major video streaming platforms in China. An idol survival show is a reality TV show in which participants compete to get a place in an idol group that is going to debut by the end of the show. A video showing people believed to be fans pouring bottles of yoghurt drink down the drain went viral in May. The fans wanted to scan QR codes inside caps of bottled drinks in order to vote for their idols.  The video which cannot be confirmed has triggered an intense backlash online.

The idol survival show, Youth With You 3, produced by iQIYI, was aired from February 18, 2021 and was abruptly halted on May 1, 2021 before the grand finale.

Responding to the CAC’s campaign, social media platforms such as Weibo and Douban, another social media platform where fans gather, announced that they will strengthen regulations on online fan activities. Accounts involving in “inappropriate fan activities” like hurling abuse, will be banned temporarily or permanently.

Entertainment companies follow suit. Some companies call for rational star-chasing on their official Weibo accounts.

Online fan clubs also make similar statements on Weibo and rename their accounts to avoid being suspended. Words such as ‘fan club’ are removed from their account usernames.

At the end of August, fan club account of Zhao Liying, a popular Chinese actress, with more than 2.5 million followers on Weibo was banned temporarily by Weibo’s censorship system. Before the account was banned, an online verbal fight broke out between fans of Zhao Liying and another actor, Wang Yibo. Zhao’s fans wanted to remove Wang from appearing in a new TV show featuring Zhao, as previously a TV show having both of them was not well-received by the audience.

Fans then realised self-censorship will be necessary to avoid having accounts being closed.   They delete or turn perceived sensitive Weibo posts with abusive words into private posts. Hashtags are also restricted to avoid being identified as “manipulating social media comments”.

“[Sensitive words are] like ‘test’, ‘养乐多’, ‘广场’ (Yakult, square). [These words are usually] used to manipulate social media comments and make up hot topics,” Liao explains.

“I was too lazy to do [self-censorship]. I have too many posts on my accounts,” she says.  After several weeks, she found her account containing posts with these “sensitive” words work as usual. “So [fans were] like scaring ourselves,” she says with a laugh.

Weibo made an announcement about the cancellation of the celebrities’ popularity ranking list in its official account on August 5, 2021.

Before the Qinglang campaign, online fan clubs encouraged fans to write comments about their idols and repost them as much as possible to increase traffic data related to their idols.  Fans now stop doing reposts, as Weibo cancelled ranking lists of celebrities’ popularities in August due to the crackdown.

Although fans now have to follow stringent rules, some fans like Liao see the bright side of the campaign. They spend less time on writing comments and reposting online.

“The campaign saves my time … Now we mainly chat in our [fan] group,” she says.

Fans also have stopped contributing money to idols directly with apps like Taoba (桃叭) and Owhat now as the campaign bars variety shows or entertainment businesses to charge fans for star-chasing.

“[OFFICIALS FROM MEDIA COMPANIES] PLAY DUMB, BUT I THINK THEY KNOW WHAT THEY ARE DOING WHEN THEY MANIPULATE FANS TO MAKE MONEY.”

Yvonne Lin, a fan and also a fresh graduate, tries to cover all costs of star chasing by herself. Her idol is Liu Yu, a candidate who attended Chuang 2021, an idol survival show produced by Tencent this year. She thinks minors should not make a monetary contribution because their money comes from their parents.

But she also acknowledges that sometimes it is hard to avoid spending money on idols. “Rules of survival show require fans to contribute money to help their idol debut. The regulation is established [by the programs], and fans can only follow the game rules,” she says.

“[Officials from media companies] play dumb, but I think they know what they are doing when they manipulate fans to make money,” she adds.

Jing Zhan, associate professor of the Department of Government and Public Administration at the Chinese University of Hong Kong, thinks idol survival show is an effective business model that entertainment industry has built in recent years.

“Companies are driven by profit … but they will have to face some government restraints during the Qinglang campaign,” she says.

Zhan also thinks that it is hard to evaluate the long-term effect of the Qinglang campaign this year. “Sometimes the government introduces some policies and does not enforce them continuously. Then the effectiveness will depend on the conscious behaviour [of companies],” she says.

Edited by Fiona Cheung

Sub-edited by Vivian Cao

Old Is Gold

Cantopop legends live in youngster’s hearts with their intoxicating charms.

By Angel Woo

“The wind keeps blowing, and I don’t wanna leave.”

The lyrics of Leslie Cheung Kwok-wing’s iconic classic, “The Wind Blows On” (風繼續吹) still resonate 18 years after his death.

Many are still dwelling in the golden age of the super star. Memorial events are held every year by fans around the world. Some are even organised by fans born after his death.

“I was born in 2004 and he passed away in 2003. I still love him so much even though our lives never intersected. Legends never die and live on in people’s hearts,” Ellie, who declines to reveal her full name, says.

Leslie Cheung first came into her life when she was only six. “My father played his songs at home, and I love his song The Wind Blows On (風繼續吹) the most. To me, he is like wind that gently breezes into my life,” the 17-year-old student says.

“I still love him so much even though our lives never intersected. Legends never die and live on in people’s hearts“

This April, Ellie organised a memorial exhibition – “Wind Of Leslie” for the singer, actor and film director, who took his own life at the age of 46 on April Fool’s Day in 2003 after suffering from depression.

“I used my pocket money to organise this exhibition and I spent almost HK$20,000. From finding a venue, writing press releases to arranging exhibits, I did it all by myself,” she says.

The exhibition Ellie held for Leslie Cheung Kwok-wing this April. (Photo courtesy of Ellie)

Her exhibition showcased more than 50 exhibits, which are all her collections related to Cheung, including posters and magazines. “I got so many collections at home so I decided to sell some, hoping more Cheung’s fans can share the joy,” she says.

Ellie holding up one of the poster of her exhibition of Leslie Cheung Kwok-wing. (Photo courtesy of Ellie)

“Loving him is the best decision I have ever made in my life“

“It is not easy to find these items! Sometimes I have to find them through overseas second-hand shopping websites. For the poster of Happy Together (春光乍洩) designed by the Cannes International Film Festival, I had to translate the film name into French and find it on the internet,” she says.

“It was really exhausting to organise the exhibition on my own, but I definitely did not regret it,” she says determinedly. “As a young fan of Cheung, I feel like it is my responsibility to let more people of my generation to know about him through this exhibition,” she adds.

Ellie also has an Instagram page named WindOfLeslie in which she writes about her thoughts on Cheung’s songs and films using her pseudonym.

A Life Enlightenment Journey

“I would say he has enlightened my whole life. I always get a bit emotional when I talk about him. Loving him is the best decision I have ever made in my life,” the teenager says with teary eyes.

“He has always stayed in my heart as I have been listening to his songs since I was small. But I became a die-hard fan after watching a video of him performing in red high heels at an exhibition,” she says.

The daring star has been an indispensable part of Ellie’s life since she went to an exhibition named “Ambiguously Yours: Gender in Hong Kong popular culture” when she was 12 in 2016.

Organised by M+ West Kowloon Cultural District, the exhibition was about gender ambiguity through showcasing costume designs, music and films in pop culture.

“At that exhibition, I watched his 1997 concert in which he danced in red high heels while singing his song Red (紅). I was so amazed! How could a man dance so delicately in high heels? How could he be so androgynous? He was even more feminine than a woman!” Ellie says.

The red high heels Leslie Cheung Kwok-wing wore being exhibited in the Hong Kong Heritage Museum.

The Cantopop king has never hidden his true self. He was the first idol to come out as gay in Hong Kong and confessed his love to his childhood friend Daffy Tong Hok-tak in the 90s. Even for today, he is still a huge gay icon as it is not common for celebrities to come out publicly in the city.

“He dared to hold Tong’s hand while paparazzi were taking a picture of them! He has been encouraging more people to express themselves. He has helped me to get rid of limits set by the world and freed my mind,” she says.

“He is ‘the avant-garde’ in Hong Kong pop culture! Many people tell you to be yourself nowadays, but he already did it twenty years ago – loving himself and doing what he loved,” she says.

When asked if she would like to go back to the past to meet Cheung, she says: “Of course I would like to meet him, but I believe there is a reason for me to be born in this era – maybe it is to live by his values and spread it to others.”

From Kpop to Cantopop

Anita is a biographical film about Anita Mui Yim-fong in 2021.

While Ellie believes it is her destiny to live in an era without her beloved idol, Heidi Yu, an 18-year-old fan of Cantopop Diva Anita Mui Yim-fong, thinks the opposite.

The Cantopop diva passed away in December – eight months after Cheung in the same year because of cervical cancer. Her death made 2003 a more sorrowful year as it was also the time when Hong Kong was greatly hit by SARS, a deadly disease that killed 299 Hongkongers out of 1,755 infected.

“I think I was born in the wrong era…it is a pity that I can never meet her in person and take a picture with her. The old Hong Kong seems a lot happier – life was simpler,” Yu sighs.

Loving someone Yu has never met is poignant, but there are always other ways to show her love. “I visit her grave every year and write letters to her on her birthday, her death anniversary and the day she debuted,” she says.

“The old Hong Kong seems a lot happier – life was simpler“

“I don’t know if she can receive my letters, but I will keep writing,” she says.

Before knowing the diva, she knew nothing about Cantopop. “I only listened to K-pop in the past and I did not know any Cantopop songs, not even the most famous ones,” she says.

“My friend sang Unfortunately I’m an Aquarius (可惜我是水瓶座) by Miriam Yeung Chin-wah when we were singing karaoke a few years ago. But I totally had no idea what song it was,” she laughs. Yeung was a famous local singer in the 2000s and her song Unfortunately I’m an Aquarius (可惜我是水瓶座) is still one of the mainstream hits.

But the pandemic in 2019 changed her life. As Yu got more time to stay at home, she was granted a chance to learn about her love. “One day, I listened to Mui’s songs on the internet and was quickly taken with her,” she says.

“It is because of Mui that I listen to more Cantopop songs,” she says. “As a Hongkonger, I should listen to more Cantopop and not only K-pop,” she adds.

Although she still listens to K-pop, she says: “Mui conquers a big part of my heart! She cannot be compared with K-pop.”

“I feel more attached to Mui’s songs, because I can understand the lyrics which were so beautifully written,” she explains.

I also love how she shares her thoughts on life during concerts, for example she reminded us to treasure everything before she sang Sunset Melody (夕陽之歌) in her very last concert in 2003. K-pop stars usually do not do this,” she adds.

“People see idols from golden age as a cultural icon to represent their own society. We always miss the past when a better future has not yet arrived“

Cultural Icons

Anthony Fung Ying-him, professor at the Chinese University of Hong Kong’s School of Journalism and Communication, says nostalgia has become a global phenomenon.

“Every society has this phenomenon. For example, The Beatles was formed in the 1960s but the band is still influencing the western world today. It is because it symbolises a milestone of world music culture and a breakthrough in western music history,” he says.

“People see idols from golden age as a cultural icon to represent their own society. We always miss the past when a better future has not yet arrived,” he says.

“Many problems occur in today’s world, so we miss the old times,” Fung says. Perhaps, his comment was sung by Cheung in The Wind Blows On(風繼續吹) – “There were many happy memories in the old days, why not recall it together?”

The Hong Kong Pop 60+ exhibition in The Hong Kong Heritage Museum.

Edited by Charlie Yip
Sub-edited by Hayley Wong

Education Unions: the Past, Present and Future

What does disbandment of experienced professional unions mean to political participation and civil society in Hong Kong?

By Leung Pak-hei

Poon Tin-chi, one of the active leaders of the now-disbanded Hong Kong Professional Teachers’ Union (PTU) since its establishment in 1973, says that it never supported Hong Kong independence, citing that it supported Hong Kong’s return to China during the negotiations between China and the United Kingdom during the 1980s as evidence.
“Our founding chairman Szeto Wah was also a member of the Hong Kong Basic Law Drafting Committee. This shows that he is a true patriot,” he adds.

The Disbandment of PTU

The PTU came under fire on July 30 when Chinese state-run newspaper People’s Daily criticised the union for engaging in anti-China activities and called the PTU an “ulcer” that needs to be removed.

The next day, on July 31, the Hong Kong government announced that it would cease all working relations with the PTU, stating that it would no longer consult the union on education-related issues and would stop recognising teacher training courses organised by the PTU.

The PTU announced its decision to disband on August 10, citing “huge pressure from the recent developments” as the reason. The union facilitated disbandment by amending its constitution at a special assembly. The decision was formalised on September 11.

Poon, who has been the chairman of the PTU senate since 2010, says that the PTU participated in social movements because upholding social justice is one of its core values.

“The PTU has three main goals: to fight for teachers’ rights, to voice out on education policies and to defend social justice,” he says.

Notice posted by the PTU announcing its disbandment.

“We organise peaceful activities if the movement was related to social justice. We only mobilise our members to participate and never incited students,” he stresses.

Poon was also the union’s first secretary general from 1974 to 1990 and the vice-chairman from 1992 to 2006.
He says that the PTU has influenced the government’s education policies throughout its existence.

“For example, when the number of students started to decrease in the late 1970s, we advocated to implement small class teaching to enhance the quality of education. The government eventually accepted our suggestion,” he explains.

Poon Tin-chi in the PTU office.

Memories with PTU

Poon finds the PTU’s friendly atmosphere to be most memorable.

“I remember when we helped our members to order gifts during Lunar New Year, our volunteers worked together happily, even though they were exhausted after moving the gifts around,” Poon says.

“And when our members received presents, they stayed around and chatted with us. It is not purely a seller-customer relationship, but a very warm and close one,” he continues.

Poon also praises PTU’s founding chairman Szeto Wah’s devotion to education and his down-to-earth working style. He passed away in 2011.

“I remember back in 1971, rubbish piled up in toilets after a carnival event. When Szeto Wah was aware of it, he went to the toilet to clean it himself,” he recalls.

Looking into the future after the PTU’s disbandment, Poon tries to stay hopeful.

“There is not really a basis for optimism now, but it is also not necessary to be negative. There is always hope, it just depends on how you interpret things,” he says.

The New Teachers’ Union

Shortly after the PTU’s disbandment, the pro-Beijing Hong Kong Federation of Education Workers (FEW) established the Hong Kong Education Workers Union on September 12.

“The union currently has fewer than 50 members. We will send invitations to teachers next month, and we hope that 10,000 FEW members and other non-FEW education workers will join us,” Ng Chi-wui, the vice-chairman of the union, says.

He also says that most of the members in the new union’s council met each other in the FEW, but stresses that the union will also include non-FEW members, including current and retired education workers.

“We are currently planning to form two new committees in the union, and have already invited some non-FEW members to be part of them,” Ng says.

The vice-chairman thinks that it is difficult to comment on the PTU’s disbandment but says: “We acknowledge that the PTU has made a lot of contributions to teachers’ rights throughout its history, but we cannot approve its actions that override education professionalism with politics, such as inciting teachers to participate in class boycotts.”

Ng’s remarks were similar to FEW president Wong Kwan-yu’s. Speaking to a RTHK radio programme on August 11, Wong criticized the PTU for not distinguishing itself from teachers with professional misconduct, as well as separatism and Hong Kong independence.

Ng says that the new union will not provide teachers’ welfare in order to avoid overlapping with services like shopping welfare that the FEW already has.

He adds that it will provide consultation and legal assistance in cases involving teachers’ rights, which explains why pro-Beijing lawyer and National People’s Congress representative Chen Man-qi is appointed the union’s advisors.

“We will not harbour any prejudices when dealing with cases involving professional misconduct, but will not protect teachers involved in illegal activities,” Ng stresses.

Empty PTU supermarket after the announcement of disbandment.

What Does the Disbandment Tell Us?

Ma Ngok, an associate professor from the Chinese University of Hong Kong’s (CUHK) Department of Government and Public Administration, thinks that the pro-Beijing unions will not be able to replace the PTU.

“Due to their political stance, it will be hard for these unions to build trust with the former members of the PTU. They are also relatively inexperienced when it comes to defending teachers’ rights and dealing with complaints, which the PTU was very experienced in,” he says.

The associate professor says that the PTU was targeted by the authorities due to its influence on Hong Kong’s social movement.

“The Central and Hong Kong governments alleged that the PTU incited teachers to encourage students to actively participate in the 2019 anti-extradition bill movement. This led to Beijing’s decision to deal with the union,” Ma explains.

Given the current political atmosphere, he believes that new unions with a pro-democracy political stance in the education industry will probably not emerge in the short term.

He also says that the trend of disbandment of other prominent pro-democracy organisations and unions will lead to a steady loss of organisational power of the pro-democracy camp.

“The National Security Law and the social distancing measures under the pandemic created an unfavourable atmosphere for political activities. The limited resources of smaller pro-democracy groups also does not help,” Ma says.

Another commentator Lau Siu-kai, deputy head of the Chinese Association of Hong Kong and Macau Studies, says he is unfamiliar with the subject.

Bernard Charnwut Chan, the non-official convenor of the Executive Council, said on September 12 that he felt pity for the PTU’s disbandment, but stressed that no organisations should challenge “one country, two systems” under the National Security Law.

The convenor also believed that the disbandment of one or two organisations would not affect the development of Hong Kong’s civil society.

The US Department of State issued a press statement on October 21 expressing serious concern at the continued erosion of fundamental freedoms in Hong Kong and called on the Beijing and Hong Kong authorities to cease their crackdown on peaceful civil society organisations.

Name of organisationDate of announcement of disbandment
Hong Kong Professional Teachers’ UnionAugust 10
Civil Human Rights FrontAugust 15
612 Humanitarian Relief FundAugust 18
Civic PassionSeptember 3
Wall-fareSeptember 14
Hong Kong Confederation of Trade UnionsSeptember 19
Student PoliticismSeptember 24
Hong Kong Alliance in Support of Patriotic Democratic Movements of ChinaSeptember 25
Some pro-democracy organisations disbanded since August 2021

Edited by Reus Lok
Sub-edited by Hayley Wong

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