Personnel Sports Meeting: The Great Leap Forward

Team Morale: A happy Dean Chen Yao, flanked on his right by Vice-Dean Wong and his left by Vice-Dean Wu Yunna, at the conclusion of the Personnel Sports Meeting. Chen Yao is holding the “morale” or “spirit” award won by the International Exchange College (IEC). Since the IEC doubles as the “Foreign Affairs Office” (or waiban), all the foreign teachers at Shi-Da competed with the IEC, even though only myself, Tyler (to my right), and Karen (front row far right) actually teach for the college. The other foreigners in this picture teach for the Foreign Languages Institute. Notice that eight-year-old Samuel Perry Arnold snuck into the photo (second row far right).

Last Friday we had the "Personnel Sports Meeting," or staff sports day. The International Exchange College faculty improved their standing from 17th last year to 10th this year, an advance that Dean Chen Yao, after a few glasses of Chinese liquor at the banquet, dubbed the "Great Leap Forward." My jaw dropped. Was he kidding? I wasn't sure, but I laughed just the same. It was indeed our small Great Leap.

The Personnel Sports Meeting was something that would be unimaginable at an American University Campus. Give all the faculty members racy sweat suits and shoes, the kind that hip-hopsters wear with thick gold chains (think Ali-G). Line them up at 7am in the morning in front of their departmental building and march them in formation into the sports stadium chanting slogans--in our case, "DEVELOP YOUR SPORTSMANSHIP, CULTIVATE CULTURAL AWARENESS, SUPPORT THE BEIJING OLYMPICS." Then tell them that EVERYONE has to participate in at least one event and also cheer on their fellows all day long in events as such as "The Sixty Meter Race for Older Women," and "Relay Race with Balls in Arms." I laugh thinking of the uproar this would cause among the faculty at Columbia Basin College, an unpretentious community college in eastern Washington. I shiver to think what a firestorm such a command would cause at our more prestigious universities. And yet, there we were, faculty all, dressed up in our sweat-suits and participating in the staff sports meeting.

The faculty, staff, and administrators of the International Exchange College cheer on their colleagues.

What was the purpose of the staff sports meeting? Everyone I asked said similar things: to build a sense of community and teamwork among the faculty and staff members; to show faculty spirit; to give everyone a day of recreation and fun that countered their daily grind of classes; to expand and develop our various faculty faculties. A large character sign displayed across the bleachers encouraged faculty to "cultivate your humanity" and "develop yourself in all fields."

It was, in one sense, just a good deal of fun and camaraderie--a day spent with colleagues and friends in competition and cooperation. And yet, there was also a coercive element to the fun. The command was clear: everyone would participate. Most young faculty eagerly embraced the chance to strut their stuff. But it was evident that some faculty members, especially women, were less than thrilled at having to compete. And yet, when called on, they really gave it their all. Fifty year-old female instructors raced around the track in jeans and loafers, heaving their bodies across the finish line, collapsing on the infield grass, having to be dragged away by friends and officials. Put an English teacher in a 4 x 400 relay and watch a human drama unfold that far exceeds anything the Olympic Games, with its finely tuned athletes, can offer up.

The agony of “da feet”: This was serious stuff. I must have seen at least a dozen faculty and staff members collapse after their competitions. No matter how well they compete, these teachers will never make the cover of a Wheaties box, but the heart they show in such games can solidify their position in the work unit, or danwei, which is much more like a community than it is a "workplace" in the American sense.

A common sight: an instructor-competitor being helped from the track by a friend.

The Arnold Family takes 1-2-3 in the “Kangaroo Hop in a Sack” race: Grace Olivia, Samuel Perry, and me.

Afterwards, Chen Yao hosted a banquet for all the teachers in the IEC at the Mongolian restaurant across from the college. The banquet carried on the themes of building community as well as instilling conformity. I found myself with Dean Chen Yao, Vice-Deans Wong and Wu Yunna, Party Secretary Zhou, Tyler, my American colleague, Monica, his Mongolian wife, and Jed, another American who teaches for the Foreign Languages Institute. The liquor and toasts began to flow. After the toasts came the songs. Like at my first banquet, Mr. Zhou again sang traditional Mongolian folk songs. He sang three songs, every one spoken in its entirety beforehand like a poem: "The green valley sparkles under the morning sun. The grasslands--green and wide--welcome you...." And yes, I sang, once again, "Yesterday," which is for some reason the only song I can remember after a few sips of Chinese liquor. I also sang backup to Jed's "Help," and listened while Chen Yao once again gave us John Denver's "Country-Roads" and Wu Yunna sang two Mongolian folk songs.

After about an hour of songs and toasts, eight young female faculty members, all clad in their matching sweat-suits, returned from a work assignment (giving exams, I heard, although I wondered who was taking exams at 9pm on a Friday night during the second week of school). The good-looking, chain-smoking Chen Yao, who, with his stylish clothing and sun glasses, more resembles a GQ model than a college dean, asked everyone in turn to stand up and deliver a song and then paraphrase the meaning in English for the foreign guests. Singing, as with the sporting events, was a show of heart and spirit, and, when called on, the young faculty members threw themselves into their assignments with gusto. But singing, as with the sports, was also required: Chen Yao forced everyone to perform, even those who looked less than thrilled and whose voices could barely be heard above the din of the restaurant beyond the banquet-room door.

Once again, I imagined a similar scenario in the US: the female faculty arrive en masse to the banquet room and sit quietly as the male dean commands each one to stand up and perform songs for the foreign guests. I imagined a riot and a couple really nasty law suits. But here, everyone seemed to take up their responsibilities with spirit and good cheer.

So there it is—Personnel Sports Meeting: the uniforms, the marching, the color, the pageantry, the thrill of victory and agony of "da feet," as my father used to say.

Thanks for reading.

Dave