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China has more than 114 million migrant workers, which represents the largest migration in human history. But while these workers, who leave their rural towns to find jobs in China’s cities, are the driving force behind China’s growing economy, little is known about their day-to-day lives or the sociological significance of this massive movement.
In Factory Girls, Leslie T. Chang tells the story of these workers primarily through the lives of two young women whom she follows over the course of three years. Chang vividly portrays a world where you can lose your boyfriend and your friends with the loss of a cell phone; where lying about your age, your education, and your work experience is often a requisite for getting ahead; where a few computer or English lessons can catapult you into a completely different social class. Throughout this affecting portrait of migrant life, Chang also interweaves the story of her own family’s migrations, within China and to the West, providing a historical frame of reference for her investigation.
At a time when the Olympics will have shifted the world’s focus to China, Factory Girls offers a previously untold story about the immense population of unknown women who work countless hours, often in hazardous conditions, to provide us with the material goods we take for granted. A book of global significance, it demonstrates how the movement from rural villages to cities is remaking individual lives and the fates of families, transforming our world much as immigration to America’s shores remade our own society a century ago.
Unknown Binding
First published October 7, 2008
Staying in Min’s village made me think about my own family. Long ago when my parents were children in China, they had grown up in a similar way.
In the factory towns of the south, I was meeting young women and watching them learn how to be individuals. They found jobs; they confronted bosses; they tried to learn new skills. Mostly they came to believe that they mattered, despite their humble origins. Do not feel inferior because we are ordinary migrant workers, Chunming wrote in her diary. We have no reason to feel inferior. In Zhang Hong’s world, it was still 1957 [the Great Leap Forward]. He loved himself; he hated himself. He hated Mao; he quoted Mao constantly. He despised the Party; he belonged to the party.
…
My thanks go first to those I knew in Dongguan, who taught me so much about this city in which we were all outsiders. Lu Quigmin and Wu Chunming generously opened up their eyes to me, granting me their trust, patience, time, and lasting friendship. Zhang Qianqian and Jia Jimei showed me life on the assembly line, while Jiang Haiyan and Chen Ying shared their struggles to rise above it. Liu Yixia opened my eyes to the way English is learned in a factory town.
He had dark kind eyes in a trim face the color of a walnut; he spoke deliberately, with the precise gestures of a Peking opera performer, and he never raised his voice.
She had dyed and permed her hair so it was long and crinkly, like caramel taffy.
He was three years older than Min and as skinny as a hastily drawn cartoon character, with long limbs and a narrow handsome face and a bashful smile.
The boyfriend answered the door. His face was narrow and tough and darkish red, like a cord of beef jerky; he looked to be in his forties.
He had a narrow face that came to a point at his chin and a tiny square mustache that hung on his upper lip, like a stray postage stamp.
He had a thin face, with the skin stretched tight over the cheekbones and hair so short it gave him a permanently startled expression.
The boy, Zhang Bin, had a narrow face, round dark eyes, and pale cheeks that were flushed with nervousness.
Learning my family story also changed the way I saw the factory towns of the south. There was a lot to dislike about the migrant world of Min and Chunming: the materialism, the corruption, the coarseness of daily existence. But now there was an opportunity to leave you village and change your fate, to imagine a different life and make it real. The journey my grandfather attempted was one that millions of young people now make every day – they left home; they entered an unfamiliar land; they worked hard. But nowadays their purpose was not to change China’s fate. They were concerned with their own destinies, and they made their own decisions. If it was an ugly world, at least it was their own.