
A fan of Hollywood trivia, an avid reader of the "Harry Potter"
series and Taiwanese comic books and an aficionado of Italian food, Yide
is a marketer's dream. And he's just 8 years old.
China's one-child policy yields 'me' generation
Yide has an entertainment collection rivaling that of any
American teenager, including copies of "Matrix Reloaded" and Madonna's
"American Life" CD. He loves "The Simpsons" and has opinions on a
surprising range of topics, from restaurant ambience to love.
He shares a spacious Beijing penthouse with his parents, Li Guijun and Chang Qing, both 39 — belongs to a special group of
consumers, the so-called "little emperors and empresses" who are the
legacy of the one family, one child population-control program launched
by China in 1979.
Although these children range in age from infants to young adults,
they share one characteristic: They are usually the sole focus of two
doting parents and four grandparents, the so-called "one mouth, six
pockets" family. That has given them buying clout that extends far
beyond what might be expected in a country where the per-capita gross
domestic product hovers at $900.
Raised during a period of dramatic economic growth, these only
children are knowledgeable consumers of Hollywood movies and enjoy
Taiwanese pop tunes and the latest Hong Kong fashions. Even the children
of factory workers and domestic helpers are being sent to after-school
classes and study-abroad programs, reflecting Chinese society's emphasis
on education.
Buoyed by their families' support, these youths are parlaying
university degrees into well-paying jobs as engineers, entrepreneurs and
attorneys. Yao Ming, the 7-foot-4-inch Houston Rockets star, is one of
China's best-known single children.
But being the center of the familial universe carries a price.
Sociologists worry that this generation is overprotected and spoiled.
They fear that China's embrace of capitalism has enriched the lives of
young people materially but left a moral void that could contribute to
social problems such as drug abuse and drinking.
In an article on the single-child phenomenon, Wu Ruijun, a staff
member of the Population Study Institute at East China Normal
University, laments, "Parents are focusing on the intellectual
investment and ignoring the education of morality, which would cause
unbalanced development of the child."
But China's one-child policy is credited with putting the brakes on a
population that at 1.3 billion ranks as the world's largest. The biggest
impact has been in the cities, because exceptions to the restriction
were granted to rural families who needed an extra pair of hands to till
the land.
Over the past decade, the average family size in China has dropped
from 3.96 in 1990 to 3.44, according to the government. Twenty-two
percent of families in the country and 62 percent of families in Beijing
have just one child, according to 1997 figures from China's National
Statistics Bureau, the latest data available. Some wealthier couples are
choosing to have more than one child and pay the penalty, which varies
depending on the locality. It can range from a few hundred dollars to
several times the family's annual income.
Chinese parents and grandparents, most of whom came of age during the
impoverished days of Mao Zedong's Great Leap Forward and Cultural
Revolution, boast one of the highest savings rates in the world. But the
sky's the limit when it comes to spending on their children.
“The mind-set here is, I'm investing in the next generation,”
explained Christopher Mumford, chief operating officer of Yaolan.com,
China's largest parenting-themed Web site. He said Yaolan's 550,000
members spend an average of $250 a month on child-related purchases,
including nutritional products, educational toys and child-rearing
literature sold by his firm's Babycare company. Often, families spend
more than half of their monthly earnings on their children, according to
the government media.
That often requires a huge sacrifice, as can be seen upon entering
the cramped apartment of Gao Mingyue, 10, and her parents and
grandmother. Their neatly kept home is in a run-down housing complex
that was once part of a nearby factory. When the apartments were put up
for sale, Jiang Junming, Gao's mother, borrowed money from her parents
to purchase their modest two-room walk-up.
In one corner of the bedroom shared by the couple and their daughter
sits a polished, rose-colored piano. Jiang, 40, paid the equivalent of a
year's salary for the instrument. Before her smiling, pigtailed daughter
sits down to perform a popular children's song, the doting mother
proudly pulls out half a dozen certificates Gao has earned for piano
proficiency.
For several years, Gao took weekly piano lessons along with math and
English instruction on weekends. The piano lessons were particularly
costly, and the family spent more than half of its monthly income on the
girl's classes, books and related materials. But Jiang says that those
supplemental courses are her daughter's best hope for a life beyond the
factory.
Real estate companies, automakers, even health clubs are harvesting
the fruits of parental sacrifices. Backed by their families' combined
resources, single children entering young adulthood are boosting sales
of expensive electronic gadgets, condominiums and cars. It is difficult
to separate out the spending of this group, but overall retail sales
increased more than 8 percent last year in China at a time when most of
the world faced stagnant or recessionary economies.
Like young people elsewhere in Asia, China's youth are fashion
conscious and technology-crazed, which is why this country is the
world's largest market for cellular phones and one of the largest for
personal computers.
Li Guijun, who is a teacher at the Beijing Central Art Academy and
the father of Yide, the young movie aficionado, sees the products of
China's one-child policy as they move through his classroom. He admires
their confidence but worries that they might have cast aside some of the
good values of the old China in their race to embrace modern life.
“My teachers had a strong sense of responsibility to others and
society,” he said. “My students pay more attention to themselves. This
generation is much stronger. But sometimes they are ego-centered. That
makes me a little worried”
By Evelyn Iritani
5 August 2003
http://www.twincities.com/mld/pioneerpress/6451974.htm
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