Kantegger

1

“Heavenly Elm” is the translation of my Chinese name, “Tian Yu”. These characters bear profound symbolism. “Heavenly” implies inherent traits, while “Elm” refers to a strong tree species in China. My grandfather named me “Tian Yu”, hoping I could reflect the potential of the sturdy Elm.

Interestingly, “Tian Yu” phonetically resembles an ancient Chinese emperor’s term, conveying masculinity. This naming custom reflects the wish for daughters to be as powerful and successful as men.

Although my mother, Mrs. Li, managed most household chores while maintaining a professional career comparable to my father’s, Mr. Li, they both held traditional expectations. They emphasized my responsibilities as a woman and considered my education at a top university in Chengdu ample for a girl.

Despite participating in various activities and being a popular figure on campus, I grappled with anxiety. When my instructor criticized my attire and performance as “unladylike,” I was besieged by confusion and shame. After being diagnosed with depression, my fears intensified. I began to perceive myself as “too emotional and vulnerable.” This ushered in a prolonged, tumultuous period shrouded in gloom.

2

Amidst an array of mundane courses, I was fortunate to encounter a supportive teacher, Mrs. Zhou, who directed me towards gender studies. Upon her suggestion, I watched numerous TED Talks, among which the most impactful was delivered by a woman named Eve Ensler, who spoke eloquently about gender and feminism. Her resonant voice and the compelling narratives she shared were highly affecting. She encouraged girls like me, who were deemed “too emotional” and “too vulnerable,” to channel our emotions and vulnerability into abilities of understanding, empathy, and tolerance. I couldn’t help but wonder if I could become a person like her.

After watching the movie Philadelphia, I began to delve deeper into topics of homosexuality and AIDS. When the teacher assigned us to select a research topic, I, along with three classmates, held several discussions before deciding to investigate the legalization of same-sex marriage. We conducted interviews on campus, seeking students’ opinions on this issue. Few expressed disagreement. The prevailing student attitude was one of indifference: no support, no opposition, no encouragement. It was not until after our presentation, during reflection on our research methodology, that I realized an anonymous online questionnaire would have been more effective than interviews, both for privacy considerations and, more importantly, for garnering honest answers. I learned that during interviews people are more likely to falsify their responses, especially on subjects where they suspect their view might be considered erroneous.

Following that presentation, I began focusing more on gender-related fields. I recalled Hillary Clinton’s statement from her 1995 speech in Beijing: “Women’s rights are human rights.” I translated articles pertaining to gender and politics, such as Jia Tolentino’s “Ivanka Trump’s Terrible Book Helps Explain The Trump-Family Ethos” from The New Yorker, and Jessica Bennett’s “Girls Can Be Anything, Just Not President” from The New York Times. I also followed the 2016 Stanford sexual assault case and read the powerful letter penned by the courageous survivor. From her letter, I learned not only that “no means no,” but also understood the principle of “yes means yes.” I translated this letter as well, sharing all these articles with my friends and classmates via my media platform on WeChat.

3

The deeper interpretation of “Elm” in my name symbolizes “hometown”. After completing my graduate studies, I plan to return to China and join a globally recognized women’s rights organization.

While a government report in 2015 acknowledged progress in women’s status in China, it failed to mention the persistent discrimination Chinese women face in education and employment. Some brave women continue to advocate for rights, facing suppression and detention. But I firmly believe in the importance of resisting this injustice.

In my spare time, I served as an online volunteer. I met Lin last year on her Sina Weibo account, where she openly reported the abuse inflicted by her family. A resident of Xi’an, she endured physical violence from her family for twenty years and received minimal assistance, partly because she identified as a lesbian. Despite the immense pain and injustice she suffered, she asserted that she would not give up and vowed to continue encouraging people like her to speak out. I encountered many resilient, brave, and strong women and felt compelled to amplify their voices.

I see gender and sexuality studies as integral for understanding one’s identity. The inability to self-identify can prevent honest engagement with the world, which is why I believe in the significance of courses in Gender, Sexuality, and Culture at institutions like University of Birmingham. The university’s focus on gender history, visual culture, and media aligns with my interest in the relationship between gender and media.

I aspire to influence others around me to confront gender inequality rather than turning a blind eye. Even a small change signifies a step towards a more equal world and a progressive transformation of my hometown. The echoes of these steps, I believe, have the power to change society.