Solving Problems

Fast-changing social and economic conditions are creating mental health problems for some Chinese students – but professional help is now at hand.

By RICHARD MULLINS

Cut-throat competition in job market—a major source of pressure for the college graduate.

In the late 1970s, Chinese universities reopened after a 10-year hiatus during the Cultural Revolution. Back then, students were thrilled to have the opportunity of college education that had been denied to so many of their elder brothers and sisters, and elation was the prevalent mood on campus. A quarter of a century later, the picture is very different. Facing leaner prospects in a highly competitive job market, the heavy responsibilities of an only child, and a range of other social and economic steamrollers, incidences of depression, violence and suicide are increasing among Chinese students.

This strain can be manifested in some bizarre and tragic behaviors, though these cases remain the minority. They are nonetheless shocking – a student from the country’s leading science institute, Tsinghua University, once decided to take his problems out on a bear in a zoo, burning it with sulfuric acid. In another well-documented case, a shy student named Ma Jiajue bludgeoned four of his classmates to death with a hammer. Ma came from a poorer family background than most of his peers, and one day he decided that he had had enough of their mockery. He was executed in June, 2004 at the age of 22.

Extreme cases such as these have prompted authorities to examine the causes behind the deteriorating mental health environment in universities, and to search for solutions. A study conducted by China Education Pioneer, a government-sponsored website that addresses education issues, showed that some 50 percent of college students surveyed had a “low level of mental health.” The same study indicated that impoverished students or those that came from poor families were more likely to suffer from poor mental health. According to the study, just 16 percent of Chinese students were said to have shown signs of “positive psychological behavior.”

For most students, anxiety is brought on by the mountains of study time they need to put in to get their degrees, and the lack of a grading system that distinguishes the best students from the borderline. The Chinese are awarded the same qualification whether they scrape through with a 40 percent pass or excel with a first class score in their finals. “Firstly, this can frustrate the more capable student,” says Yang, an engineering student in Shanghai. “But more significantly, it reduces or eliminates their competitive advantage in the job market. It doesn’t matter if I score 100 percent in the finals and a classmate gets the minimum pass mark – in the eyes of prospective employers, we are equal.”

Being poor and in college is also a major source of stress. The China Education Pioneer survey found that between 20 and 30 percent of Chinese students came from “poor families,” with 5 to 7 percent coming from “impoverished” ones. Apart from the fact that these students face the added hardships of working part-time or holiday jobs to pay for their expenses (not a common practice among Chinese students), they are often ridiculed by their peers for their dress sense, accent, physique, or their diet. Ma Jiajue was poor, and his classmates rarely let him forget that he ate steamed bread, not canteen food, on most days of his college life. Inferiority complexes are rife among such students.

The family, which should be a source of comfort for the stressed out Chinese student, often exacerbates the problem. Parents today are well aware of the job market and its cutthroat competitiveness. They lean on their young son or daughter, giving them the best possible education, in order to get the best possible job, and, ultimately, look after mama and papa in their old age. “Being an only child in China is difficult,” says Zhang, a student in Beijing. “We know that when our parents are old, they will rely on us for support. This means we are urged to work harder, both by our parents and our consciences, adding to the already substantial pressure that we are under.”

Less practical issues are often found among those responsible for Chinese students’ mental health problems, particularly nowadays, with the current trend to be hip. “Interpersonal relationships between classmates have always been important, but now they are crucial to most students’ states of mind,” says Zhang. “Kids these days are exhibiting more signs of Western trends, like dressing cool, knowing all about the latest in-vogue pop star, and so on.” Romantic relationships, or their failure, can also drive students over the edge.

All these issues can lead to apathy, insomnia, eating disorders, poor academic performances, and, in worst-case scenarios, murder and suicide. So how are universities responding? Many have established psychological counseling departments, or revamped existing ones. The Capital Normal University (CNU) in the west of Beijing was one of the first universities to address the problem when it introduced special lectures, psychological education and free counseling in 1994. Many more universities across the country have followed suit. Lin Guirei is director of CNU’s universities psychological counseling center. She says, “With the rapid changes in Chinese society, young people are under greater pressure than ever before. Frustration guidance, directed at helping them to shape their character and strengthen their willpower, is badly needed, especially for those who are single children.”

So college psychologists or counselors have an increased presence on Chinese campuses these days, but their waiting rooms are often empty. “Traditionally, Chinese students bottle their problems up. To acknowledge a problem is to admit defeat, and therefore, to lose face,” says Wang, a student in Beijing. Many feel they will be stigmatized for seeking help, and worry about the “shame” that they and their parents will suffer. “Not many students seek help from these counselors,” says Ming, a student in Peking University. “They feel, as adults, that they should be able to face their problems and deal with them.” However, school-run hotlines are popular among students with mental health issues – they can call up anonymously and get expert advice from professional counselors on how to tackle their problems. Many universities run special classes for or hand out literature to freshmen with advice on adjusting to college life and dealing with new stresses.

To popularize awareness of the growing problem, the government has designated May 25 as College Students’ Mental Health Day. It has also established a website where students can receive information and counseling, or share their problems with peers, anonymously. What’s more, a national support system is being set up, complete with warning and intervention mechanisms. More universities are carrying out mental health assessments among their first year students, aimed at identifying those at risk of developing psychological problems. Follow up investigations are carried out, and, if necessary, the relevant authorities will intervene.

In spite of all the strain, only a minority of students develops serious mental health problems, or takes extreme action to address them. Most students feel they can cope with their pressure – coming through the gaokao (national university entrance exam) system certainly gives them enough practice. For those that suffer minor stress levels, a good chat with a classmate, or a game of badminton, is often enough to quell the concerns. And for the unfortunate few at risk of cracking under the weight of college stress, professional help is now at hand.