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Under Pressure: Chinese Full-Time Mothers Demand Time Off
With the number of stay-at-home mothers on the rise in China, so are the challenges that come with being a full-time mother.
Published
7 years agoon
The story of a full-time mother who was slammed by her husband and mother-in-law for asking some ‘time off’ for traveling during the national holiday has gone viral on Chinese social media. Her account strucks a chord with other stay-at-home moms, who face difficulties in being a full-time mother in a society where family responsibilities are shifting.
Chinese netizen ‘@DoubleTrouble’ (@二捣蛋), a Guangzhou stay-at-home mother of two kids, recently posted about her desire to take “an absence of leave” (请假) from her life as a mum and travel by herself during the Chinese National Holiday.
The woman shared her grievances on WeChat about being severely criticized by her husband and mother-in-law for wanting some time for herself during an 8-day vacation after taking on the sole care of her two children non-stop for years.
The unhappy mother’s story, which was posted some days before the start of China’s national holiday, was picked up by Chinese media and went viral. It triggered heated discussions on the role of China’s stay-at-home mothers within the family.
A FULL-TIME MOTHER’S DILEMMA
“I raised the subject of wanting to go away for a while. But I couldn’t even finish speaking before my mother-in-law said: How dare you think of things like this as a mother?!”
The original text, which was posted by the woman on a WeChat forum for Guangzhou mothers (gzmama.com), is as follows:
“The past two days I’ve had a falling out with my family members. I wanted to use the National Holiday to travel somewhere, but my husband and mother-in-law strongly opposed. Now, there is all this turmoil because of this, with them criticizing me for being selfish. They also say I am irresponsible and that I am an unfit mother. I feel really low.
The situation is that I have two children, a 5-year-old and a 2-year-old, both raised by me. Although my parents-in-law are also in Guangzhou, they’ve never helped me out at all. Even when one child gets sick, it is me who has to take both the children to the hospital.
I’ve been married to my husband for six/seven years now. After we got married, I resigned from my job to become a full-time mother. We did not hire a nanny and I took on the care of the two kids by myself. My husband is very busy, and couldn’t help out either.
The last couple of years have tired me out. All mothers will know what I mean, even if they don’t say it. For this year’s [national] holiday, my husband also got a few days off, which is very rare, so I finally wanted to seize this opportunity to go out for a while, and let my mother-in-law help out for a bit to take care of the children.
A few days ago, we were all having dinner together, when I raised the subject of wanting to go away for a while. But I couldn’t even finish speaking when my mother-in-law said: “How dare you think of things like this as a mother?!” My husband also strongly opposed to me leaving the house. My father-in-law said nothing; he didn’t oppose nor approve.
My husband and my mother-in-law at the dinner table took turns in telling me how selfish I am, and how irresponsible I am, and I could not help but quarrel with them.
Now the family relations have gone sour, and my husband and I have not spoken for few days, I also haven’t gone to see my mother-in-law.
Am I really being selfish? The two children are already older now. The little one does not get breastfed anymore, and the kids get along great, they hardly ever fight.
Sigh, I do not know what to do now. Should I go anyway, regardless if they are against it or not? Or should I just forget about it it and just bitterly stay at home with the kids?”
The woman’s post received some 17,000 views and over 200 comments from other mothers on the Guangzhou forum before it was widely shared and discussed in Chinese media, receiving thousands of reactions on Weibo.
STAY-AT-HOME MOMS IN CHINA
“Once you have children, your time is no longer your own – your time must be dedicated to them.”
More than two-thirds of mothers in China work full-time. According to this report (video) by CGTN, China’s modern-day moms belong to a generation that attaches great importance on having a job – so much so that there is an alleged social stigma to staying at home full-time to raise the children.
“There are a lot of Chinese mothers who work, and this might not necessarily always be their choice,” says Roseann Lake, author of upcoming book Leftover in China: The Women Shaping the World’s Next Superpower.
Lake tells What’s on Weibo that the relatively high percentage of working mothers in China, on the one hand, can be explained through the historical background of the Cultural Revolution, which placed great importance on the full participation of women in the labor force. On the other hand, she notes, it also has a lot to do with today’s China.
“Giving the nature of China’s economy, there is a need for double-working households. And at the same time, there are also many grandparents with free time on their hands who are willing to take care of their grandchildren.”
Lake does not think there necessarily is a social stigma attached to being a full-time mom: “If the financial conditions allow it, women in China can certainly be stay-at-home moms. But then there is the expectation to take on the bulk of looking after the household.”
Nevertheless, Lake stresses, usually – despite expectations that the wife will then take on full care of the household and children – Chinese grandparents will pitch in to help take care of the children, whether the mothers like it or not.
About the case of Chinese netizen ‘@Doubletrouble’, Lake says: “There are plenty of in-laws in China who would pass judgment on something like this, saying that once you have children, your time is no longer your own and your time must be dedicated to them at all times.”
While there is pressure on both working and stay-at-home moms, there is a growing number of Chinese women who choose to fully dedicate themselves to their family life.
According to China Daily, more than 70% of post-90s young mothers are willing to be a full-time mom. By contrast, mothers from the post-80s would rather stay in the workforce; approximately 46% keep on working after becoming a mother.
ONLINE REACTIONS
“If women cannot even have this piece of freedom, then why do we get married at all?”
With the number of stay-at-home mothers on the rise in China, so are the challenges that come with being a full-time mother. The story of @DoubleTrouble shows that there are many other full-time mothers who have a similar story.
“Women have to think of themselves, they should not completely dedicate all of themselves to the family,” one woman (@潼潼囡妈咪) writes: “We need our own social space in order to have the capability to support ourselves and our children.”
“Just go!”, one person pleads: “If women cannot even have this piece of freedom, then why do we get married at all?”
Other people also point out that it is not the mom who is selfish: “If a woman becomes a mother, it doesn’t mean she has to give up on everything. There are 8 days in the National Holiday – why can’t she leave for 2 days? Can’t she have a break from working hard all year round? It’s not only her children, what’s wrong with the mother-in-law looking after them? They are the ones who are selfish and take her for a free labor force.”
There are also commenters who say that there is a big difference between being a stay-at-home mother and a ‘house slave’: “Just go and apply to be a nanny somewhere else,” one person suggests: “At least then you’ll have wages and get days off.”
“The one who has no sense of responsibility is not this mother, but her husband,” another woman writes.
“It’s not like she’s leaving for two months,” one commenter said: “If women cannot even enjoy this freedom and support after getting married and having babies, then what’s the point?”
“When I get married,” a male netizen writes: “I want my wife to take time for herself and go outside, I will watch the kids. I don’t want to see her depressed or restless.”
Despite all the support for @DoubleTrouble, and all the other mothers demanding that ‘time off’ should be normal for all stay-at-home moms, there are also some who disagree.
“When the child is 2 years old, they are too young. Wait until they go to school,” some say. Or: “Just take the children and go on a trip together with your husband, the four of you together as a family.”
THE “GREAT TRANSFORMATION”
“The grandmother does not have the duty to help out her daughter-in-law, but then she also shouldn’t expect her daughter-in-law to take care of her when she is old and sick.”
The recent account of ‘@Doubletrouble’ is not the only complaint from full-time mothers who feel the pressure of taking on the full care of their children and not getting any help nor personal time. An important recurring issue is the changing role of the in-laws, who traditionally lived with their son’s family and usually have an active role in raising their grandchildren.
One woman from Fujian (@林小夕的梦) cries out on Weibo: “I am so tired, I am on the verge of collapse. It’s unbearable being a full-time mother. Don’t ask me about my mother-in-law or why she doesn’t help me out – I’d be better off without her, she doesn’t understand.”
The transformations of Chinese traditional family structures in the modern-day era have not necessarily brought about equal gender divisions in the household.
As pointed out by Harriet Evans in The Gender of Communication (2010), the focus in Chinese society has gradually shifted over the past half-century, as there is “[a] shift away from a collectivist and family-oriented ethics of personal responsibilities to an individualistic ethics of rights and self-development” (981).
This “great transformation”1 manifests itself, amongst others, in the clashes between those younger mothers who seek self-fulfillment and personal satisfaction, and those older generations who still expect them to fulfill the traditional women’s role in the domestic sphere, while they, as grandparents, now also play a much less significant role in the upbringing of their grandchildren – not just because they are detached more from the family in social terms, but also often because there is a bigger spatial distance between families.
“The grandmother does not have the duty to help out her daughter-in-law, but then she shouldn’t expect her daughter-in-law to take care of her either when she is old and sick,” a popular comment said.
Since the post has gone viral, @DoubleTrouble has not given an update about whether or not she did go on that trip. If not, at least her story has triggered some relevant discussions online.
“I just hope this post will receive enough attention so that women who want to become a full-time mother will realize the difficulties they might face,” one woman writes.
By Manya Koetse
Follow @whatsonweibo
References
Evans, Harriet. 2010. “The Gender of Communication: Changing Expectations of Mothers and Daughters in Urban China.” The China Quarterly (204): 980-1000.
1 Evans (2010) quotes Yan Yuxiang here, author of The Individualization of Chinese Society (London: Berg, 2009).
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Manya is the founder and editor-in-chief of What's on Weibo, offering independent analysis of social trends, online media, and digital culture in China for over a decade. Subscribe to gain access to content, including the Weibo Watch newsletter, which provides deeper insights into the China trends that matter. More about Manya at manyakoetse.com or follow on X.
China Insight
Story of Chinese Female MA Graduate Going Missing for 13 Years Sparks Online Storm
The story of the Chinese MA graduate, Ms. Bu, who disappeared in 2011 brings back memories of the Xuzhou mother of eight, who was later revealed to be a victim of human trafficking.
Published
3 days agoon
December 10, 2024Once a promising Master’s graduate in Engineering, Ms. Bu went missing for 13.5 years. Her return marks the end of her family’s long search, but it is the beginning of an online movement. Chinese netizens are not only demanding answers about how she could have remained missing for so long but also want clarity about the puzzling inconsistencies in her story.
Over the past few days, Chinese social media users have been actively spreading awareness about a case involving a Chinese woman who they suspect became a victim of human trafficking.
Netizens trying to draw attention to this story used the hashtag “Female MA Graduate Becomes a Victim of Human Trafficking” (#女硕士被拐卖#). Between December 6 and December 10, the hashtag garnered 150 million views on Weibo.
The case centers on a Chinese female Master’s graduate from Yuxi District in Shanxi Province’s Jinzhong, who went missing for over thirteen years. Now reunited with her family, netizens are demanding clarity and answers about how she could have disappeared for so long.
This case, which has sparked emotional and outraged responses online, brings back memories of another incident that became a landmark moment for online feminism in China: the case of the Xuzhou mother of eight children, who was discovered chained in a shed next to her family home. Her husband was later sentenced to nine years in prison for his role in her human trafficking.
A Niece’s Search into the Origins of Her Mysterious Aunt
The online movement to raise awareness about this case began well before it gained traction on December 6. It all started when a young woman named Zhang (张) from He Shun County (和顺县) contacted a volunteer group dedicated to reuniting missing individuals. On November 25 of this year, Zhang sought their help in tracking down the family of her somewhat mysterious “aunt.”
According to Zhang, her aunt—who suffered from mental illness—had been living with her uncle for over a decade. Despite this long history, the family knew almost nothing about her past. Wanting to know more, Zhang reached out to the group in hopes of learning about her aunt’s origins.
Zhang claimed that her “aunt” had wandered into their family home one day fifteen years ago. Although they reportedly informed the police, no action was taken, and they allegedly decided to “take her in.” After about two years, she ended up living with Zhang’s uncle, with whom she had two children.
When volunteers visited the family home, they found that the “aunt” was literate and appeared to be well-educated. As reported by the popular WeChat account Xinwenge (December 4 article), the volunteers gradually guided the woman into revealing her name, her family members’ names, and the university she attended.
After passing this information to the police, they confirmed her identity as ‘Ms. Bu’ (卜女士), a missing person from Jinzhong’s Yuxi, about a 2.5-hour drive from He Shun County.
On November 30, Ms. Bu finally returned home, where her 75-year-old father had prepared a welcome banner for her. She was accompanied by her “husband” and their two children, a 12-year-old son and an 8-year-old daughter.
Although Bu initially did not seem to recognize her father, Chinese media reported that she eventually smiled when he brought out her glasses, which she had worn as a student.
From Doctorate Pursuit to Disappearance
Ms. Bu was born in 1979. As a bright young woman, she graduated high school, attended college, and earned her master’s degree in engineering in 2008. Bu planned to pursue a doctorate afterward. However, due to not renewing her ID card in time, she failed to register for her doctoral exam.
This caused severe stress, and she subsequently developed schizophrenia. Her brother recalled that it was not the first time she had struggled with mental health issues—she had undergone various treatments at multiple hospitals for mental illness between 2008 and 2011.
At the time, Bu reportedly received medical treatment. While recovering at home after being discharged, the then 32-year-old Bu suddenly disappeared in May 2011. Although she was reported as a missing person, her family did not hear from her for over 13 years.
But this is where the questions arise. According to Ms. Zhang, her “aunt” had first walked into their home fifteen years ago, which is impossible since Bu did not go missing until May 2011.
Other aspects of Bu’s disappearance also raise questions. How did she end up in He Shun County? Why did the Zhang family not seek help all these years? And how was she able to have two children with her “husband” despite her fragile mental state?
Authorities Get Involved
While the story of Ms. Bu has received considerable online attention over the past few days, a joint investigation team was set up in Shanxi’s He Shun County to investigate the case. While investigations are still ongoing, new reports suggest that, after her disappearance in May 2011, Bu spent some time wandering alone in multiple nearby villages for over ten days in July and August of that year, exhibiting signs of mental illness.
She was later taken in by Mr. Zhang, a 45-year-old villager, who is now the target of an active criminal investigation. Zhang was aware of Ms. Bu’s mental condition yet engaged in relations with her, resulting in children.
Bu has now been hospitalized for treatment, and authorities are providing support to her children. It is unclear if they will remain with their father—custody arrangements will be determined based on the outcome of the case.
On social media, interest in the case is only growing. On Tuesday, a Xinhua post detailing the latest updates on the case received over 433,000 likes and 44,000 shares shortly after it was posted.
Despite the official updates, questions continue to surround the case of Ms. Bu, nicknamed ‘Hua Hua’ (花花). Given that her mental illness was apparent to so many, why did local authorities fail to intervene earlier? Particularly during the strict social controls and widespread testing of China’s ‘zero-Covid’ era, it is hard to believe that local authorities were unaware of her existence and her mental state. These criticisms and questions are flooding social media and growing louder as more details about her past emerge.
Ms. Zhang, the family niece, further revealed in a livestream that ‘Hua Hua,’ who was reportedly sleeping under a bridge before being taken in by the Zhang family, actually had more than two children. However, as of the time of writing, the fate of these additional children remains unclear.
This case also brings back memories of the Xuzhou mother of eight, another victim of mental illness who was nonetheless “married” to her “husband” and gave birth to eight children. Her story sparked a massive online outcry over how local authorities were complicit in enabling such abuses.
“From the Xuzhou chained woman to the missing Ms. Bu, these women’s tragedies cannot remain incomplete stories,” author Ma Ning (麻宁) wrote on Weibo. “Women are not commodities for marriage and reproduction (…) Let’s continue to follow this case, not just to seek justice for Ms. Bu but also to protect ourselves.”
By Manya Koetse, with contributions by Miranda Barnes
(follow on X, LinkedIn, or Instagram)
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Chinese Movies
Why Chinese Hit Movie “Her Story” is ‘Good Stuff’: Stirring Controversy and Celebrating Female Perspectives
China’s end-of-year movie hit, Her Story, is sparking debates and highlighting the rising influence of Chinese female directors.
Published
6 days agoon
December 7, 2024The Chinese comedy-drama Her Story (好东西, literally “Good Stuff”), directed by Shao Yihui (邵艺辉), has been gaining attention and sparking discussions on Weibo since its late November release in mainland China.
The film features an all-star cast including Song Jia (宋佳), Zhong Chuxi (钟楚曦), Zeng Mumei (曾慕梅), Zhao Youting (赵又廷), and Zhang Yu (章宇). It tells a quirky yet heartfelt story about two women: Wang Tiemei (王铁梅), a self-reliant single mom juggling life and work, and Xiao Ye (小叶), a free-spirited young woman navigating her chaotic relationships.
Their friendship begins when Xiao Ye starts babysitting Tiemei’s nine-year-old daughter, Wang Moli (王茉莉). Xiao Ye introduces her drummer friend, Xiao Ma (小马), to teach Moli how to play the drums, but Xiao Ma’s presence stirs jealousy in Tiemei’s unemployed ex-husband, who schemes to regain his place in the family. Blending humor with poignant insights, the film explores themes of imperfect love, friendship, and the messy process of rebuilding lives.
The film also addresses a range of hot societal issues through dialogues woven into everyday interactions, touching on topics like menstruation stigma, sexual consent, feminism, and how family dynamics can impact personal development.
In just eight days, Her Story surpassed 300 million RMB ($41 million) at the Chinese box office (#好东西票房破3亿#). Two days later, on December 2, it exceeded 400 million RMB (#好东西票房破4亿#), and on December 7 news came out that it had surpassed the 500 million RMB ($68.7 million) mark at the box office.
The film also achieved an impressive 9.1/10 rating on Douban, a Chinese platform similar to IMDb, making it the highest-rated domestic film on Douban in 2024.
Notably, 65.4% of voters awarded it five stars, while only 0.5% gave it one star.
Conflicting Views: From Feminist Film to Chick Flick
Despite its huge success, it is almost unavoidable for a movie this big to come without controversy. The film sparked debate on Hupu (虎扑), a platform focused on sports and men’s lifestyle, where it received a lower score of 5/10. While 33.1% of users gave it five stars, 58.4% rated it one star, reflecting divided opinions.
Much of the criticism comes from male viewers who feel the film undermines men by portraying them in non-traditional ways and omitting proper names for male characters, such as referring to the ex-husband only as “the ex-husband” (前夫). On the other hand, many female viewers resonate with the film’s female-centered perspective, with one scene blending household sounds and Xiao Ye’s recordings praised as a standout cinematic moment of 2024.
Interestingly, not all women appreciated the film either. A Weibo user, identified as a female scriptwriter for two Chinese TV dramas, emphasized that most of the producers of the film are male. She accused the director of hypocrisy, claiming Shao accepts money and resources from privileged men to create films that encourage female audiences to look down on average men.
She wrote, “I hope that everyone who believes in the ‘ghg’ [girl help girl] myth and supports female idols will also congratulate the male producers who will earn a lot of money from the film.”
Zhou Liming (周黎明), one of China’s most influential film critics, noted two extreme perspectives in film reviews. Some critics label the film as a “boxer film” (拳师电影) or an “extreme feminist film.”
However, the film itself suggests otherwise, as reflected in Moli’s line, “I don’t want to box,” when her father tries to convince her to take up boxing. Some audiences interpreted the line as rejecting extreme feminist messages.
In China, the term “boxer” (拳师) is used to critique certain feminists. The second character in the word for feminists (“权” [quán] in 女权主义者) is pronounced the same as the first character in “boxer” (“拳” [quán] in 拳师). This term often mocks behaviors seen as overly aggressive or lacking nuance in feminist discourse, such as avoiding dialogue or oversimplifying social issues.
Some also dismissed the film as a “chick flick,” a casual term for romantic comedies, which Zhou argued unfairly minimizes its significance. He likened the film to Woody Allen’s Annie Hall, suggesting that, much like Allen’s work, Her Story transcends gender differences and reflects the cultural zeitgeist of its time.
Despite the controversy, the film has been praised by notable figures like actor Zhang Ruoyun (张若昀), who called it “super good, super awesome, and super cute” (“超级好、超级牛、超级可爱的东西”). Zhang described the movie as tackling absurd yet realistic issues from a female perspective with humor and depth.
The Increasing Influence of Female Directors in China
At the end of Her Story, Tiemei’s daughter, Moli, nervously prepares for her first drum performance. Despite her hesitation, she gathers her courage and steps on stage. This moment reminded some viewers of a similar scene in another female-directed film this year, YOLO (麻辣滚烫), where the protagonist gears up for a boxing match.
YOLO is a 2024 comedy-drama directed by Jia Ling (贾玲), starring Jia Ling and Lei Jiayin (雷佳音). A comedic adaptation of the Japanese film 100 Yen Love (2014), it tells the story of Du Leying (杜乐莹), a woman facing personal struggles who turns to boxing after meeting coach Hao Kun (昊坤). Through her journey, she finds a new direction in life after their breakup. Grossing USD 496 million worldwide, YOLO became the highest-grossing Chinese film of 2024.
These parallels between Her Story and YOLO highlight a broader trend: the growing prominence of female directors in Chinese cinema. Beyond the discussions of plot and central themes, Her Story reflects the increasing success and influence of women filmmakers in the industry.
In 2024, female directors have made a notable impact on Chinese cinema, with their films achieving both critical acclaim and box office success. Their works also spark conversations about the need for more diverse perspectives in the industry.
The Last Frenzy (末路狂花钱), directed by Wu Rina (乌日娜), premiered on May 1. This comedy follows Jia Youwei (贾有为), a man diagnosed with a terminal illness, who decides to sell his assets and live fully with his friends. Despite mixed reviews and a Douban score of 5.9, the film grossed over 700 million RMB ($96 million) by May 31, becoming a major box office hit.
Stand By Me (野孩子, literally “Wild Kids”), directed by Yin Ruoxin (殷若昕), premiered on September 13. Starring Wang Junkai (王俊凯), it tells the story of two neglected children, Ma Liang (马亮) and Xuan Xuan (轩轩), who form a makeshift family while facing life’s challenges. With a Douban rating of 6.7, the film grossed 241 million RMB by October 9.
Like A Rolling Stone (出走的决心, literally “The Determination to Leave”), directed by Yin Lichuan (尹丽川), premiered the same week as Stand By Me. Inspired by Su Min (苏敏), a 50-year-old woman who embarked on a solo road trip, the film explores themes of self-discovery and the struggles of neglected women. Featuring Yong Mei (咏梅), the film earned praise for its authenticity, achieving a Douban score of 8.8 and grossing over 123 million RMB.
To the Wonder (我的阿勒泰, literally “My Altay”), a film-like TV drama directed by Teng Congcong (滕丛丛), adapts Li Juan’s (李娟) memoir. Starring Ma Yili (马伊琍), it tells the story of Li Wenxiu (李文秀), a young woman finding her place in her hometown of Altay after setbacks in the big city. Known for its poetic storytelling and portrayal of ethnic harmony, the series has a Douban score of 8.9 from over 300,000 ratings, ranking among the top dramas of 2024.
“An Era Where Women Are Being Seen”
The growing influence of female directors has sparked discussions about how women’s perspectives are challenging traditional storytelling.
Some Weibo users compared a scene from Her Story, where Tiemei scolds a man for urinating roadside, to a similar moments in YOLO. In YOLO, Hao Kun’s attempt to urinate roadside is humorously interrupted by car headlights. Such scenes highlight how female directors reinterpret everyday behaviors, inviting audiences to question societal norms.
Her Story has already been released in several countries, including the United States, Australia, Germany, and the United Kingdom, with more international releases to follow.
The success of Her Story, the conversations it inspires, and its contribution to highlighting female perspectives in film reflect the evolving dynamics of contemporary cinema and the strengthening of female voices in traditionally male-dominated industries.
On Weibo, many view this as a positive development. One commenter wrote:
“Her Story [好东西/”Good Stuff”] is truly ‘good stuff.’ (..) At the start of this year, I watched YOLO, and at the end of this year, I watched Her Story. Suddenly, I feel very grateful to live in this era—the era where women are gradually being ‘seen.’ Both films hold very special meaning for me. It feels like everything has come together perfectly. I hope to see more outstanding works from female directors in the future, and I look forward to an era where there’s no gender opposition, only mutual equality.”
By Wendy Huang
Follow @whatsonweibo
Edited for clarity by Manya Koetse
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Bruce Humes
October 7, 2017 at 9:32 am
It’s quite revealing that — at least in the Weibo comments cited — all the potential “solutions” are limited to family members.
There is no mention of hiring a baby-sitter, part-time amah or full-time nanny. How come?
Obviously, many Chinese households couldn’t afford the latter, but in 1st- and 2nd-tier cities, they can. In Hong Kong and Taiwan, many middle-class families hire part- or full-time nannies to do housework and look after children. Hong Kongers in particular do so, and insist on a Filipina or Indonesian female who is both truly caring about children, and can teach them English to boot!
Among the Chinese mothers I know in Shenzhen and Guangzhou, however, hiring someone from outside the family to look after one’s children is considered very problematic, and most refuse to do so. Why? Because they are afraid their hires will 1) Steal from them, 2) Mistreat their children if a relative is not present, and/or 3) Kidnap their children and sell them to traffickers.
Tells you a lot about contemporary Chinese society, doesn’t it?