Localisms – Editor’s Note

November 4, 2016

Localisms Across the Spectrum

Without a doubt, the most eye-catching news of September’s Legislative Council election was the victory of six young non-establishment lawmakers who are not from the pan-democratic camp. Local and international media have broadly described them as “localists” (本土派). Today, most people think of “localists” as those who advocate a separate Hong Kong identity and who have an antagonistic attitude towards the Mainland and Mainlanders.

But it is perhaps misleading to think of localism as a single, unified ideology or movement. Scholars say political localism is split between left and right. Those on the left strive for self-determination through peaceful and rational means, while those on the right want to promote Hong Kong nationalism and support radical protests against Mainlanders. This is why we think it might be meaningful to think about “localisms” instead.

In order to understand these differing values, we listen to pro-independence localists such as Chan Ho-tin from Hong Kong National Party and democratic self-determination advocates such as Demosisto’s Joshua Wong Chi-fung.

While the spotlight is on the new political stars, many seem to have forgotten the roots of localism. Professor Law Wing-sang says the first wave of localism appeared in the 1970s, when a generation of Hongkongers born and raised locally began to express their affection for Hong Kong culture and attachment to the city. This developed into a sense of the need to preserve the city’s way of life and values in the years leading up to the handover.

After the handover, discussions about localism emerged from the protests against the demolition of Star Ferry Pier and Queen’s Pier in Central, which were led mostly by the post-’80s generation of activists. The localism of the time focused on preserving Hong Kong’s unique heritage and the collective memories attached to it. It was also concerned with people’s relationship with the land and the plight of the disadvantaged.

To look at how localism, or localisms, have evolved from this to a movement that wants to separate Hong Kong from the Mainland, and even seeks to build a separate nation, we interview some of the activists who participated in the earlier social movements and ask them what they think of localism today.

Localism has become a hot topic among young people who are now more aware of political issues than ever. Yet, some have observed that they seem to have a narrower understanding of what localism means, and have a more hostile attitude towards Mainlanders.

The Occupy Movement in 2014 – which was sparked by Beijing’s refusal to allow a free and open nomination process for the election of the Chief Executive – is said to have “awakened” local youngsters. But Hong Kong-Mainland tensions have been simmering for the past few years, fuelled by such issues as the competition for infant milk powder and maternity ward beds, and parallel traders. These have also shaped the new form of localism.

Polling more than 500 young people as well as talking to concern groups established by secondary school students, Varsity looks into youngsters’ understanding of different localist groups and the rate of their support for localism.

Localism has changed the political landscape but it is not unified and unchanging. In this 2016 November issue, we try to look at how localisms have evolved and how young people view localism today. Our reporters and editors have put in a lot of effort to produce this issue. I sincerely hope you enjoy your read.

Editor-in-Chief

Vivienne Tsang

The New Localists

November 2, 2016

Politicians and parties labelled as localist embrace different ideologies

by Chester Chan & Rammie Chui

As Sixtus Leung Chung-hang and Yau Wai-ching of Youngspiration stepped up to take their oaths of office as legislative councillors last month, they unfurled flags proclaiming “Hong Kong is not China”. Leung vowed to serve the “Hong Kong nation”.

To many observers, this was a sign of things to come for the next four years, after six new non-establishment lawmakers from outside the traditional pan-democratic camp were elected in September. In the wake of their victories, local and international media were quick to hail a new post-Umbrella Movement era in Hong Kong politics. Many headlines referred to their election as a victory for “localists” (本土派).

But the all-embracing term hides the fact there are significant differences in ideology among those who have been grouped together under the label. Today, the term “localist” is most commonly associated with those who seek a separate identity from China, in some cases a separate nation, and who take an antagonistic attitude towards Mainlanders.

However, these qualities may not best describe the views of Eddie Chu Hoi-dick, one of the six new legislators to be placed under the label. Chu was one of the activists who promoted “local” (本土) values a decade ago when the movement was more focused on creating a Hong Kong identity through preserving Hong Kong’s unique heritage, sharing common experiences and values and rethinking Hong Kong people’s relationship with the land.

These earlier approaches to localism have been virtually eclipsed since the announcement of the restrictive framework for universal suffrage by the National People’s Congress Standing Committee (NPCSC) and the 79-day Occupy Movement in 2014. Since 2014, the tension between mainland China and Hong Kong has not eased. Issues such as parallel trading, the disappearance and arrests of Hong Kong booksellers and the disqualification of pro-independence candidates in the Legislative Council election have further worsened Hong Kong-Mainland China relations.

This has prompted some to worry about the future of Hong Kong after 2047, when the Sino-British Joint Declaration’s guarantee that Hong Kong’s pre-1997 way of life would remain unchanged for 50 years comes to an end. And instead of calling for the government to re-initiate the process of political reform, the new non-establishment politicians are proposing self-determination for Hong Kong. Although the six legislators who have been branded localists all support the idea of self-determination, political scientist Ma Ngok says they have very different values.

“Their ideologies are very different, one is right-wing, the other left-wing, they are two extremes,” says Ma, an associate professor from the Department of Government and Public Administration at the Chinese University of Hong Kong (CUHK).

Ma says it is difficult to define localists but based on the September legislative council election, he says the new forces can be split into two camps.

The first camp, which he would call localist, comprises the CPR Alliance (Civic Passion led by Cheng Chung-tai, Proletariat Political Institute led by Raymond Wong Wuk-man and Hong Kong Resurgence led by Horace Chin Wan-kan) and Youngspiration and the only openly pro-independence candidate Chan Chak-to.

Ma says these parties or groups emphasise the idea of Hong Kong nationalism which he says can lead to more xenophobic emotions. He cites the views of Chin from Hong Kong Resurgence, whose advocacy of “Hong Kong City-State Theory” contains racist elements that denigrate Mainlanders and opposes new arrivals coming from the Mainland. Some of the anti-parallel trader actions organised by other localist groups also involve activities and rhetoric that discriminates against Mainlanders.

In contrast, Ma describes the main members of the other “localist” camp – Eddie Chu Hoi-dick from the Land Justice League, teacher Lau Siu-lai who organised roadside “democracy classrooms” during the Occupy Movement and former Occupy Movement student leader Nathan Law Kwun-chung from Demosisto – as self-determination advocates.

The Changing Face of Localism

November 2, 2016

How localism evolved from a movement to preserve Hong Kong’s heritage and rediscover its relationship to the land

by Minnie Wong & Howard Yang

On a December night in 2006, a slight woman wearing a thick woollen jacket stands on a step ladder and addresses a crowd gathered at a candlelit vigil at the site of the old Star Ferry terminal in Central. She rebukes the government for demolishing the pier without consulting the public and, at one point in her speech, the crowd becomes solemn as some intone the “dong, dong, dong, dong” sound of the bell from the once iconic clock tower.

The last ferry had sailed from the pier less than a month before and some hours later, police would arrest 13 protesters who tried to retake the terminal building.

Ho Loy, a cultural worker who is now 50, led the campaign to save the historic pier which marked the beginning of a wave of local consciousness (本土意識) that informed a series of social movements, most notably the campaigns to save Queen’s Pier, Wan Chai’s Lee Tung Street and the anti Guangzhou-Hong Kong high-speed rail movement.

Although localism seems to be a new phenomenon in Hong Kong, localist currents are not new. Professor Law Wing-sang of Lingnan University traces its first wave to the early 1970s, as a conceptual term expressing the affection for Hong Kong culture and values by those born and raised in the city.
Law says the second wave arose during the transitional years, when Hong Kong’s future handover to Chinese sovereignty was being discussed and a “sense of crisis” emerged as Hong Kong people sought to protect their economic and political systems and way of life.

The third wave of localism started after the handover with the social movements, led for the most part by the so-called post-’80s generation activists, sounding its arrival. The localism espoused by these activists focused on the need to preserve Hong Kong’s heritage, to acknowledge the real historical experience of all Hongkongers, especially the grassroots and to protect its culture and values. In that sense, it promoted the sense of a unique Hong Kong identity. The localism of that time also questioned the central narrative of Hong Kong as an economic city, driven by development and commerce.

It is only in more recent years that it has become characterised by a more political sense of segregation between Hong Kong and China, leading to the rise of localist groups calling for Hong Kong independence and national self-determination.

Some say the protests against the Guangzhou-Hong Kong high-speed railway in 2010 was the turning point, while others think it was Beijing’s rejection on August 31, 2014 of a free and open nomination process for election of the Chief Executive by universal suffrage.

After the demolition of the Central Star Ferry terminus, Ho Loy and the other activists formed a group called Local Action (本土行動) which played a key role in the campaign to save the nearby Queen’s Pier in 2007. The members were mostly cultural workers, artists, academics and activists, and counted Eddie Chu Hoi-dick among them. The activists took a creative but peaceful approach to protesting, staging cultural performances, sit-ins and occupations and going on hunger-strike.

Ho recalls it was a time full of possibilities. “We called it [the group] Local Action because we couldn’t think of a framework,” says Ho.

Although Ho says the organisation was rather loose and unfocused, she thinks it was also more diverse and open-minded compared with the localism of today.

“People possess a narrower imagination towards it now, they are less open to possibilities.” She finds it hard to engage with the concept of localism that emphasises nationalism and independence.

“I prefer the idea of self-determination, which refers to my value, an inner value,” she says.

Lingnan University’s Law Wing-sang says the massive July 1 protest of 2003, the Star Ferry and Queen’s Pier campaigns and the anti high-speed rail movement are significant incidents in which localism was a reponse to Hong Kong people’s sense of insecurity.

Law thinks the escalation in Hong Kong-Mainland conflicts since 2011 – such as the competition for maternity ward beds and infant milk powder and the Dolce & Gabbana incident where a store prevented locals from taking pictures but allowed mainland tourists to do so – gave rise to a new conception of localism. He says this version is very political, with a stronger idea of nationalism and the pursuit of independence. Its supporters demand a fundamental change in the political system and different methods to achieve that goal.

“They evaluate the previous ideologies of localism as immature… They worked to no avail,” Law says.

He explains that current mainstream localist thought is a strong rebound from the previous expression of localism. And he attributes the backlash to a conflict in values and ideology. The earlier proponents of localism or local consciousness did not want to touch on ethnic issues and embraced universal values. In contrast, people now say localism is about segregation both from the Mainland and Mainlanders and they will use violent and even illegal means to resist power.

“[The conflict] creates the split of right-wingers and left-wingers,” says Law.

Hong Kong Youth Pin Hopes on Localism

November 2, 2016

More than two thirds of youth support localism but what does it mean to them?

by Chloe Kwan & Stanley Lam

Unlike many of her peers, 17-year-old Sunnie Hung Sum-in does not hanker after leisure and entertainment activities after school work. Instead the year five secondary school student has bigger plans. Most days she is busy organising and promoting the concept of localism to other students. “Secondary school students are the future rulers of Hong Kong. We should push them to care about the issue and build up the national consciousness of the Hong Kong nation,” she says.

It was with this in mind, that Hung and like-minded teenagers set up Studentlocalism in April this year. She says they were influenced by the Umbrella Movement and the Mong Kok Lunar New Year unrest and some had volunteered for localist activities and were impressed by Edward Leung Tin-kei and Ray Wong Toi-yeung.

Studentlocalism promotes Hong Kong independence. Photo courtesy of Sunnie Hung Sum-in.

Studentlocalism aims to promote localism in secondary schools and it currently has around 60 members spread over groups in 21 schools, including the prestigious Wah Yan College on Hong Kong Island and Ying Wa College in Cheung Sha Wan.

Hung and other members of Studentlocalism spend some of their free time setting up street stations and handing out independence-themed fliers to young people in areas like Mong Kok.

“I think related ideas could stay in their minds after reading the flyers, and when they read information shared online. Maybe they’ll want to know more,” she says.

She also tries to spread the message in her own school. Hung founded a localism concern group – which has around seven members – in HKICC Lee Shau Kee School of Creativity. She stuck up posters supporting Hong Kong independence all around the arts and design-oriented school and sprayed graffiti that read “Hong Kong’s Independence” in the staircase in mid-September. At first the school did not take any action.

But Hung says that after receiving advice from the Education Bureau, the school removed the posters and slogan. Earlier, in late August, the government had warned that teachers could be barred from teaching if they promoted separatist ideas in schools. Secretary for Education Eddie Ng Hak-kim said there should not be any independence activities on school campuses as the idea does not comply with the Basic Law.

None of this has deterred Hung and it seems her ideas about localism are indeed widespread among young people. In a survey of 350 people aged between 11 and 27, Varsity looked at young Hongkongers’ views and understanding of localism.

The survey found that close to 69 per cent of the respondents said they supported localist groups, which is higher than suggested in similar previous polls.

Francis Lee Lap-fung, a communications scholar at the Chinese University of Hong Kong (CUHK) is not surprised by the finding.

“In the previous territory-wide polls, localist groups might have an 8 to 9 per cent support rate. It can add up to 40 per cent if respondents are stratified from 18 to 30 years old; we can expect support rate rises with younger respondents,” Lee explains.

The Exploited

November 4, 2016

Inadequate regulation puts outsourced workers at risk of labour abuses

by Gloria Lee & Jessica Li

Lam Siu Mui (not her real name), a 40-year-old who has worked as a cleaner for more than 20 years, sits with a union organiser and prepares to tell her story. In December, 2014, she started working for a contractor providing outsourced cleaning services for a public housing estate.

But she quit last July when she discovered the company had been cheating on her salary and holidays. “I have never experienced such deception in the 20 years I’ve been working,” says Lam. “I had trusted the company, but I have been hopelessly depressed after this.”

Lam is her family’s sole breadwinner. “I have to feed my parents in the Mainland and my 15-year-old son who lives with me,” she says, “I work two jobs a day.”

Lam trusted her team leader at work so whenever the team leader handed her documents to sign, she would do so without hesitation, even though she could not understand the contents.

“I’m illiterate, I was thankful to have a job,” she explains.

In July, 2015, Lam told her team leader she needed a few days of leave to look after a sick relative in the Mainland. She was shocked when the team leader told Lam she had already used up all her annual leave for 2015. Lam says she had not taken a single day of annual leave that year.

When she announced she was quitting, the team leader changed tack because she wanted to keep Lam on. “She [the team leader] said she could compensate me for all the annual leave days owed to me if I chose to stay,” Lam recalls.

Later, she quit anyway and decided to take legal action against the company with the help a trade union. That was when she says she realised she had been misled to sign documents such as rosters and applications for annual leave. These showed Lam had taken all her annual leave days and had taken regular days off.

Inadequate regulation puts outsourced workers at rist of labour abuses — Inadequate regulation puts outsourced workers at risk of labour abuses

In fact, she says, the company had sometimes asked her to work on her days off. “When they told me to work on days off, they didn’t give any reason except to say the company needs me.”

John Leung Yip-hon from the Hong Kong Confederation of Trade Unions has been helping Lam for more than a year. Leung says he handled more than 60 similar cases in 2015. He thinks Lam has little chance of winning in court because the company has all the supporting documents but Lam has only her word.

Leung says it is common practice for contractors to cheat on outsourced workers’ holidays and salary and the government’s policy of outsourcing has led to labour abuses and hurt workers’ rights and livelihood.

He explains that a contractor may only make a profit of around HK$30,000 a month for providing cleaning services on an estate; that is if they do not cheat.

“If a worker normally works eight hours a day at the minimun wage level of HK$32, that’s HK$256 a day,” Leung calculates. “If there are 70 cleaners in the housing estate, the contractor can make an extra profit of HK$17,920 by cheating one day of holiday from each cleaner.”

Hungry for a decent diet

November 4, 2016

Thousands going hungry, eating poorly in affluent Hong Kong

By Megan Leung and Doris Yu

Shortly after 6 p.m., when many people are rushing home from work, is the golden hour for grocery shopping in Hong Kong’s wet markets. That is when 50-year-old Leung Chun-wah, who works as a construction site cleaner, does her daily food shopping.

Most days after work in North Point, Leung makes a 42-minute MTR journey to Tsuen Wan, then walks 10 to 15 minutes to Yeung Uk market to pick up ingredients for dinner. The prices are cheaper here than in her local market, and just before the stalls close for the evening is the best time for bargains.

From Yeung Uk, Leung takes a half hour bus journey to get home, which is in Tsing Yi. It is exhausting but worth it for the long-term cost savings.

Leung also knows which methods to use to cut cooking-related costs. “When I cook, I use all the compartments in the rice cooker, steam a tail of fish and make a meatcake at the same time so that I can save some electricity.”

To stay within their budget, Leung and her family of three rarely eat out. “Meals are very expensive around where I work, so if there are leftovers from the night before, I will bring and reheat them for lunch,” she continues.

Reducing food expenses is a common strategy for lower-income households. With costs such as rent, electricity and water fees increasing drastically, plus tuition-related fees for children, households living on low earnings and limited allowances have no choice but to adjust their spending on variable costs such as food.

The concept of hunger is often linked to starvation. In Hong Kong hunger is regularly overlooked because people are not starving. There is a welfare system and Short-term Food Assistance, more commonly known as “food banks”. The word “hunger” seems to have no place in this developed city and financial centre.

However, relative deprivation does exist in Hong Kong; the food consumed by lower-income households can be less nutritious and of poorer quality compared to the general population. According to “Trends and Implications of Poverty and Social Disadvantages in Hong Kong: A Multi-disciplinary and Longitudinal Study”, a 2014 study conducted by the Social Work Department of the Chinese University of Hong Kong (CUHK) and the Hong Kong Council of Social Service, 40,000 people cannot afford to have three meals a day and 70,000 people do not have fresh fruit and vegetables to eat every day.

The World Health Organisation recommends an adult has at least 400g of fruit and vegetables each day to maintain a balanced diet. However, most food banks only provide rice, noodles, milk powder and canned food which are only good enough to provide temporary assistance for those who have immediate difficulties coping with basic food needs.

In order to satisfy nutritional needs which fresh food such as red meat, fish and vegetables provides, people still need to buy food from shops and markets. But since real estate giants are the dominant owners of local markets and shopping malls, people may end up paying higher prices not for better quality food but because prices are pushed up by added costs, mainly rent.

A survey conducted by the Labour Party in 2013 found that residents in Tin Shui Wai, one of the poorest districts, paid more for food items than those in other districts. Apart from the two main supermarket chains, most grocery stores in Tin Shui Wai are in markets managed by Link Reit.

Chan Chi Wai, 37, owner of Sze Sun Car Noodles in Lei Yuen Plaza, Sha Tin, is one of the many small independent businesses affected by the market monopoly. “Before the Link took over from the Housing Authority, the [monthly] rent was around HK$ 6,000 to HK$7,000, but now,” he says, making a gesture to indicate HK$20,000. “There used to be a lot of people here; in just six years after Link took over, many shops went out of business,” he adds.

With the chains moving in, Chan says small independent businesses like his are struggling to survive. He can now only afford to open for lunch and at teatime, mainly serving students. “People prefer to cook for themselves now, eating out is expensive, they can’t afford it,” he says.

But even when they cook at home, lower-income families cannot avoid having to buy the ingredients from the markets and supermarkets managed by the Link Reit. Among the worst affected are the elderly. The government’s Hong Kong Poverty Situation Report 2015 shows that 30 per cent of the elderly are living in poverty.

Leung Sau-bik, 82, lives in Tin Shui Wai New Town and says she and her neighbours lack access to cheap fresh food.

“Many fresh food shops have closed, so we have no choice but to visit Wellcome,” says Leung. “Many of us depend on Comprehensive Social Security Assistance (CSSA), how often can we buy food at Wellcome?”

After Link Reit’s Tin Yiu Wet Market closed in February, the Wellcome supermarket in Tin Tsz Shopping Centre became the only convenient local grocery in the neighbourhood. But Leung says elderly CSSA recipients can only afford to shop in traditional markets on a daily basis. For an able-bodied elderly person like her, the CSSA payment is HK$3,150 per month.

Food for Thought staff collecting food in Tin Shing Shopping Centre.

Every Wednesday at 7 p.m., Leung joins a line of elderly people waiting for food donations in the basketball court of Tin Yiu Estate. Each of them receives a bag of surplus vegetables donated by the market stalls in Tin Shing Chinese Market. They can also optionally pick up canned food donated by the dry goods stores.

The donations are organised by the Food for Thought project. Every working day, members of the project collect an average of 183 kg of food produce and take turns to transport and distribute food to different public housing estates. When Varsity visited Tin Yiu Estate, all the food produce was cleared in an hour.

Hard to be a Hyperactive Grown-up

November 4, 2016

ADHD is now well-recognised among children but few know it affects adults as well

by Fiona Chan & Ryan Li

Under the dim yellowish light, a woman is preparing the bar to welcome its customers later today. She checks there are sufficient bottles of wine, then walks over to another side of the bar to check the roster. From time to time, she takes out her phone and speaks into it, making voice notes. Grace Ma Lai -wah, who owns Club 71 in Central, was diagnosed with attention deficit hyperactivity disorder (ADHD) just over a decade ago. It means the 63-year-old tends to forget things and relies on her smartphone for reminders.

ADHD was relatively unknown in Hong Kong in the past. It is a brain disorder characterised by ongoing symptoms of inattention, hyperactivity and impulsivity that interfere with daily life. People with ADHD tend to have difficulties organising tasks, remembering things and maintaining focus on tasks that require sustained mental effort, especially those that are monotonous and repetitive. However, they can be hyper-focused on the things they find particularly interesting.

These days, more people are aware of ADHD, but most perceive it as a childhood disorder. ADHD in adults was not recognised until relatively recently. In 2013, The Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders – Fifth Edition (DSM-5), published by the American Psychiatric Association, suggested society should also be concerned about ADHD in adults.

DSM-5 says ADHD usually begins in childhood, with symptoms first appearing before the age of 12. This is a revision from the earlier diagnostic criteria that symptoms should be present before the age of seven. The symptoms can continue into adulthood, but society’s previous lack of awareness of ADHD and current ignorance of adult ADHD means many adults who have it do not know about their condition.

Many will have gone through life not understanding why they find it so hard to be attentive especially when they are busy. They are likely to be frustrated or even depressed because of continued underachievement.

Ma, who suffers from attention deficiency and struggled with frustrating failures, she says she was glad to be finally diagnosed, even though she was already in her 50s by then. The diagnosis seemed to explain her meandering life path.

Ma had always performed excellently in most tests but failed in exams

At school, she had always performed excellently in most tests but failed in examinations. She failed at three consecutive attempts to pass her nursing qualification exams although she once came first place in nursing school.

The failures dragged her into depression. “ADHD” Things were no easier when she first started running a bar in the 1990s.

“I made mistakes at every step and at all times,” she says, from forgetting to write down customers’ orders to collecting payment.

To a certain degree, being her own boss made things easier for Ma. Not so for an employee who had ADHD. Ma says she hired the youngster after she had already been diagnosed and understood the disorder.

She tried her best to help the employee and did not scold him when he was late for his shift or even failed to show up. But the other staff were not so sympathetic.

Support and understanding from family and friends is important for those with ADHD. Ma’s boyfriend reminds her to take her medication every day. She also seeks help from her friend, Dr Eunice Wong Yuk-chun, who first spotted that Ma had ADHD.

Wong is a medical doctor, the founder of the ADHD Foundation and was herself diagnosed with ADHD in 2005. Wong recalls how she used to keep stopping when she was replying to emails, continually minimising the windows.

“At the end of the day, I minimise all without sending them out because I am indecisive.”

Wong says this is a typical experience for someone with ADHD and can lead to under-achievement.

“The under-achievement happens automatically, but you scratch your head unable to figure out why,” says Wong, “Why things cannot go smooth despite my diligence?”

After she was diagnosed Wong started medication but she often forgot to take her medicine. The assistant at her clinic, who has helped her for years, often reminds her to do so and is one of her important social supports.

Apart from inattention and forgetfulness, Wong experiences another aspect of ADHD – hyper-focus. Sometimes, she incorporates the interests of her hyper-focus into her interactions with her patients. At one time, she was interested in palmistry and studied her patients’ palms for several weeks. Another time, she was so interested in the self-help book The Truth About Love that she made a PowerPoint of over 200 slides about it and shared it with her patients.

“Some patients think my symptoms are even more serious than theirs,” Wong jokes.

ADHD can be hereditary and Wong’s son and daughter both have it. But with treatment, they have been successful in their academic life and both went to university. This highlights the importance of raising awareness of ADHD so people can understand their condition and get treatment.

Wong has seen many patients who suffer from under-achievement and end up addicted to drugs, to gambling and to romantic relationships.

“If an ADHD patient does not know he or she has ADHD, a lot of tragedies will happen,” she says.

Life’s a Journal

November 4, 2016

Journaling using paper and pen adds colour to your life in today’s digital age

by Eunice Ip

A young woman sits at a table in the corner of a café, carefully writing in her journal with a fountain pen. She clips the leather-bound notebook shut after completing a few sentences and searches for stickers on a table scattered with stamps, rolls of fancy tape, memo pads, and watercolour brush pens.

Susie Hu Ruixin began journaling while on a student exchange in Austria two years ago. Hu felt something was missing in digital photos: they could not help record her feelings.

Journal created by Susie Hu, a popular journal blogger on Instagram and Weibo

“At that time, I had a lot of travelling experience, and I started to think about how to organise it,” Hu says.

Like many other journal keepers, Hu, now 22, started out using the produced by Japanese stationer Midori. The original concept behind the notebooks was the appreciation of daily life as if it were itself a journey.

“You pay more attention to the details surrounding you, like collecting all the name cards, postcards in restaurants and attractions,” says Hu. She puts seemingly mundane items such as bus tickets or paper packaging into her journal because they prompt fond memories.

When she returned home from Austria, Hu’s grandfather embraced her Traveler’s Notebook as a treasure.

“He was really impressed and kept it as a very valuable gift for him. He pored over every picture and word,” she says.

His appreciation fuelled her growing enthusiasm for sharing her notebook. Last year, she started sharing her tips on journal decorating on the Chinese microblogging service Weibo. One original trick she devised involves using powder eyeshadow to create a singed page-edge effect instead of using real fire from a lighter to burn the paper. Hu’s Weibo account now has more than 58,000 followers, and has attracted advertising from some famous stationery and watch brands.

At the tape market organised by Carmen Ho

Although journaling is a hobby that utilises physical objects in the real world, social media plays a big part in spreading its popularity and connecting enthusiasts. Carmen Ho Sin-hang, who goes by the name Che Che on Instagram, has 6,000 followers on the social network. She is an 18-year-old decorative tape lover and designer who regularly shares posts about tape and her journal.

Ho started collecting tape in secondary school and uses it to decorate her journals. After her latest tape design was released – a vintage design featuring bus tickets – she got the idea of organising a tape market. She managed to gather 40 stalls through Instagram and attracted three times the expected number of visitors.

“I organised the market not just for buying and selling. I also wanted to give people a platform to exchange ideas,” Ho says. She hopes to encourage them to share their work, and appreciate others’ work. To that end, she set up an exchange zone where people could chat and display their work, and where tape, stickers and stamps were provided for free.

Striving for Perfection

November 4, 2016

Men and boys increasingly feeling pressure over appearance and body image

by Rubie Fan

The interior of Gentlemen’s Tonic is based on neutral tones – there is a lot of ivory and dark brown. There is the faint whiff of cologne in the air and the sound of easy-listening tunes playing in the background. The image it projects is tasteful and “masculine”. Fittingly located in the heart of the financial district, the high-end, men-only grooming parlour has been offering spa and grooming packages in Hong Kong since mid-2011.

An individualised experience is one of the main selling points here and customers can get their hair cut by a barber or enjoy skincare and nail treatments in private rooms. This level of personal service in male grooming is relatively new in Hong Kong but it seems to be taking off.

The Hong Kong branch is the first foray into Asia for the London-based men’s spa and opened at a time when the focus on men’s bodies in both the media and marketing campaigns have altered perceptions about men’s bodies and appearance. Gentlemen’s Tonic director, Chris Bonnefoy says he has witnessed a shift in men’s attitudes to grooming and appearance.

“Men are becoming more interested in how they look, how they feel and [they] try to look younger as well,” he says.

Bonnefoy says his clients, who include bankers, lawyers and other well-to-do professionals are also getting younger. Apart from a barber’s shave and haircuts, they are willing to shell out a few hundred dollars for hand and foot treatments. And they are not afraid of being criticised as effeminate for doing so.

The explosion of businesses focused on grooming, fitness and beauty in recent years is not exclusively geared towards women. There are now more and more spas catering for men and it is unsurprising that men are beginning to feel the pressure to “look good” and attain ideal body shapes. Along with the images of slim, scantily clad women in advertisements for everything from high fashion to soft drinks, those of shirtless men flexing their muscles have also become commonplace. Men’s bodies are increasingly used as a marketing tool.

“Men go through identity crises. Many demands were on women before but men now feel the same pressure as well. Face was not a big concern in the past, but it’s more of a concern now,” says Bonnefoy.

Although print media may be declining overall for other sectors, there are currently six magazines specifically focused on men’s grooming and lifestyle published in Hong Kong. Attracting advertising is made easier by the growing number of grooming products and services for men. The popularity of K-pop culture, with its acceptance of male grooming and cosmetics could be a contributing factor.

Jacky Tam, the fashion editor of GQ China Magazine, believes social media is a driver of the growing market for men’s fashion and grooming.

“In the past, people might just require men to be clean and tidy. About five years ago, more people became aware of how men looked and some men started grooming. Apart from wearing [nice] clothes, they do more for themselves,” Tam says.

Today, Tam looks the part of the fashion editor, his style is clean-cut and he wears a sharply tailored suit. But he says he used to have a more quirky sense of style, and some of his peers judged him for that. Although society has become more accepting of men paying attention to fashion, grooming and appearance, Tam says Hong Kong is less open in this regard than say, Japan.

On the other hand, pursuing a sporty or muscular look might be considered a more traditional expression of masculinity that raises fewer eyebrows.

Jon Ian Lee, a professional fitness trainer who has participated in several global fitness competitions says here too social media is driving trends. “More people post their photos [of training] on Instagram and more people want to go for fitness. This became a trend,” says Lee who was himself inspired from a young age by fitness models on Instagram and men’s fitness magazines.

Teenagers are particularly sensitive to pressures to conform to “ideal” body types. As they scroll through Facebook and Instagram, more and more muscular male bodies show up. It is no surprise that fitness and training have become more popular among youngsters. However, such a focus on body image and media representations can lead to unrealistic expectations.

Daniel Cheung, a 20-year-old college student, began dieting and exercising to lose weight around two years ago and managed to lose more than 20 kg. He says appearance can have a big impact on a person’s social life.

“It’s to do with general social perception. When you see a really fat boy and a boy who is quite fit with some muscles, they will be treated differently. Your social life and job prospects will be affected as well,” he says.

Cheung says society has a standard for the male figure.

“The general requirement is to be slim, it would be even better with muscles,” he says adding that slimmer men are regarded as smarter and the fatter ones as more dull-witted.

Having gone through a drastic body transformation, Cheung has noticed some changes in how people react to him. “When you are fat, no one will come to you actively and want to get to know you. When you are slimmer with some muscles, you could feel that more people take the initiative to get to know you.”

Cheung agrees media has a big influence on public perceptions about male body image and appearance.

“You can see there has been more coverage about male bodies. For example, during the interviews for Mr Hong Kong, questions about appearance are more than those about inner beauty or personality. The values of society are shaped bit by bit because of this,” he says.

It is not just younger people who experience body image issues. Mang Li-yuet, a 38-year-old fashion store owner took up Thai boxing a few years ago to lose weight after suffering from knee pain when he weighed over 92 kg.

Mang tried all kinds of measures including taking weight loss medication, swimming, running, badminton and finally Thai boxing before dropping to 63 kg at his lightest.

Working in a fashion boutique, Mang says the change in his appearance has made a positive impact at work. “When your customers see your fit body shape, they will ask about the sports you play. You can sense their envy,” Mang says.

Growing up, Mang was always overweight and has painful memories of bullying and body shaming. “When I was asked to take the exercise books from the first to the sixth floor by my teacher, I sweated all over [walking up those stairs]. When I passed through the staff room, teachers would tease about me about my body odour. Many jokes are made about your body shape when you’re small,” Mang adds.

Some may think society is too judgmental when it comes to body image but Mang has a different take.

“It’s harsh but it is actually correct. Like kids have to learn English, you have to learn all the 26 letters of the alphabet and the vocabularies; you have to sacrifice and work hard if you want to look healthy or muscular.”

While there are those in society who advocate the willing acceptance of a more diverse range of body types for men and women in recent years, men still have a hard time openly expressing their concerns. Low self-esteem and underlying anxiety about their masculinity are some of the underlying factors that can lead to negative body image issues in men. The fact that men’s bodies are being objectified more in the media does not help.

Although eating disorders are still more common in women and girls, the number of male sufferers has increased in recent years. In 2013, 11 per cent of the patients at the Hong Kong Eating Disorders Association were male.

Men may now be freer to make themselves “look good”, but how soon will it be before voices emerge advocating that they should be freed from the need to look good?

“Society’s standards for men are higher, compared to the old times,” Tam says. “Society generally accepts men being more fastidious now, but there are still those who do not accept,” Tam adds.

Whether they accept it or not, it seems that the body-image demands on men are likely to increase and perhaps develop and evolve in the future.

Edited by Zoe Lai

Suzanne Wu Bows Out to Fight Again

November 4, 2016

Labour Party chairperson is not defeated despite quitting LegCo race early

by Venice Lai

There were just two days to go until polling day on Sunday, September 4. A record number of candidates were contesting seats in the first Legislative Council election to be held after the Occupy Movement of 2014. Competition was intense as the non-establishment side presented a crowded field of pan-democrats and post-Occupy candidates.

Suzanne Wu Sui-shan was flanked by members of her party as she fought back the tears and stopped her voice from breaking. She calmly announced she would stop campaigning. The Labour Party chairwoman lowered her head and apologised to her supporters, setting off a chorus of camera shutters. Wu’s announcement kicked off what became a series of similar tactical “quit campaigning” decisions by pan-democrats that Friday. Suddenly, she was the talk of the town.

The 36-year-old candidate in the Kowloon East constituency was a relative unknown in politics before the election. But she had in fact spent more than a decade on district work and in the labour movement. In December 2015, she was elected to succeed veteran politician Lee Cheuk-yan as leader of the Labour Party.

Wu has not always aspired to be a politician, or even a labour activist. In her second year of secondary school she read The Great Tangshan Earthquake, an acclaimed work of reportage by the Chinese journalist Qian Gang. Wu was struck by the power of words and resolved to become a journalist. With this in mind, she enrolled in the Language, Culture and Communication degree programme at Hong Kong Polytechnic University (PolyU).

At PolyU, Wu joined the student union and became the external vice-president. This brought her into close contact with the security guards and cleaners at the university. After learning about their hardships, Wu began to realise that bringing about social justice should begin with changing the small things in everyday life.

“I wanted to take a further step to change society, so I participated in social movements,” she says. “I didn’t want to just witness and question, but also to engage.”

This impulse led Wu to choose to be an activist rather than a journalist.

Immediately after graduating in 2002, Wu joined the Hong Kong Confederation of Trade Unions where she mainly dealt with outsourcing issues at tertiary institutions. Her work took her back to her alma mater, where she protested outside the office of the vice-chancellor to demand an end to outsourcing.

She did not end outsourcing, but there was a victory of sorts. The university established an outsourcing management company, the cleaners got an instant salary rise from HK$4,000 to HK$6,000, and the security guards’ work shifts were shortened from 12 hours to eight hours a day.

“It was a good start. I could feel the power of change,” Wu says.

Such outcomes are what Wu loves most about her work. She fondly recalls the case of a dish washer who sustained a work-related injury seven years ago. The worker was too timid to ask her manager to report it as an industrial injury. But seeing Wu arguing confidently with the manager, the woman gained courage. Since then, she has become unafraid to defend her rights and is able to tackle many problems independently.

“Stories like this make mass organisational work special. Through interpersonal contact, you can actually change a person’s life,” Wu says.

In public, Wu is seen as a tough negotiator and a battle-hardened activist, but she also has her tender side. At the height of the SARS crisis in 2003, she delivered bunches of roses to cleaners at one of the centres of the outbreak, the Amoy Gardens residential estate. Wu thought that while society heaped praise on medical workers, it overlooked the contribution of cleaners. For her, the roses represented dignity. “I hoped the neglected grass-roots workers could get the dignity they deserved,” she says.

Besides labour rights, Wu is particularly devoted to women’s issues, which she thinks are often seriously overlooked or belittled. She says some people equate women’s issues with child-care support alone. Others have suggested she should try to tackle the issues at district council level only. But Wu disagrees, saying women’s issues need policy support, which exceeds the authority of district councils.

Instead of singling out women’s issues, she believes there is a need to implement “gender mainstreaming” which involves introducing gender perspectives into every social issue. For instance, when talking about the Mandatory Provident Fund Schemes (MPF), society tends to forget that many women, whether they work as domestic helpers or as homemakers and carers in the home, are not covered by this retirement protection scheme. Another example is in discussions about the poor living conditions of subdivided flats, people are unaware that it is often women who suffer the most.

Wu stood in the September election to bring the voices of women and the grassroots into the legislative council and to fight for more resources. At the same time she saw an urgent need for generational renewal within the Labour Party after the district council election last year.

“I want to lead the generational renewal [of the Labour Party], so I stood first on the candidate list instead of standing behind the legislators who aimed to be re-elected,” she explains.

However, the polls consistently showed she did not have enough support to win a seat. Around a week before polling day, the media and some of her volunteers started to ask her to consider stopping her campaigning. She thought about it but was unconvinced.

“Who would I have backed after I gave up? I didn’t think there was any choice left,” she says. Although she had nothing against the other pro-democracy candidates, she did not think any of them had the links to the grassroots and workers’ movement that she did. As someone who could bring the voices and insights of civic groups into the legislative council, she felt she was a qualified candidate.

Then, a few days before the election, Wu began to hear from residents who told her they were struggling over who to vote for. Some supported Wu, but also wanted the pan-democratic camp to win more seats. Some even said they did not want to cast their votes because they could not decide who to vote for.

Wu’s first thought on hearing this was that she could not let this happen. She told herself the turnout rate had to be very high this year because it was the first Legco election after the Umbrella Movement. So she decided to stop campaigning to show the voters that the pan-democrats were united and to consolidate the vote so other pan-democratic candidates would stand a better chance.

Wu says she made the decision quite quickly and without much internal struggle. The only thing she considered was the greater public good.

“If I considered the possible loss or outcomes, I wouldn’t have dared to do it,” she says.

It was rough on her volunteers. One of them cried uncontrollably when she saw Wu’s picture on the ballot paper. Her tears fell onto the paper and she just randomly picked a pan-democrat candidate.

To make sure her action was meaningful, Wu kept checking the turnout rate every hour on election day. She was as nervous as a student waiting for the release of public examination results. She was relieved that the turnout rate reached a historic 58 per cent although the pan-democratic camp did not win one more seat in the constituency. She was slightly disappointed but not surprised.

Wu understands her decision will come back to haunt her and others will question her credibility. “It is a political suicide. Whatever constituency you are in at the next election, people will use it to attack you,” she says. Still, she does not regret her decision. Nor does think she made a sacrifice, only that she did what needed to be done.

After the election, she talked to voters, some of whom gently criticised her, but she thinks there were more who showed understanding. Some patted her on the shoulder, saying “Keep fighting!” or “I support you!”. She has apologised to the voters that she feels she has let down but has vowed to continue her commitment to doing district work. She believes there is no better way to prove her determination than through her actions.

The legislative council election and the election drama are behind her now. Looking back, Wu acknowledges the decision to run was a bit rushed and her political foundation was weak. She saw how difficult it was to boost her public recognition. Voters did not have enough time to fully understand her and her ideals.

For now, she is looking for a new way to serve the community. She thinks politicians cannot entirely rely on political issues to win elections; district work should be their foundation. But she knows she needs to find a balance between working on political issues and district work.

In the instant that she announced she would stop campaigning, Wu had already decided to run in the next legislative council election.

“I lost a battle but I will not give up on the entire war. I just retreat temporarily and will continue to fight,” she says.

Edited by Wing Chan