Tsai Ing-wen (蔡英文), the Democratic Progressive Party’s presidential candidate, has to speak more English. That was Jenny Wang’s (汪采羿) request when Friends of the Democratic Progressive Party were planning the presidential candidate’s June trip to New York, where Tsai addressed around 1,000 supporters during a week-long visit to the US.
Almost everyone seated in the ballroom of the Brooklyn Marriot, including members of the media, understood Mandarin and Hoklo (more commonly known as Taiwanese), both of which Tsai used during her speech. But Wang, a 24-year-old graduate of Rutgers University in New Jersey who served on the planning committee, was thinking about another demographic when she made her suggestion.
“When they first asked me to get... younger Taiwanese-Americans to come out,” Wang said, “I heavily pushed that she has to speak at least some English, because I felt a lot of Taiwanese-Americans would not go.”
Photo: Chris Fuchs
While those in attendance were mostly older, Wang and other organizers were still successful in mobilizing a coterie of second-generation Taiwanese-Americans to come hear Tsai speak. It’s a base that is passionate about Taiwan’s culture and history, and one that is concerned about how Taiwan’s presidential election next year could affect younger Taiwanese-Americans who someday might come to the nation to work and live.
Among them was Hsu Hsin-hui (徐歆惠), a 31-year-old student from Taiwan who just began a master’s program in global affairs at New York University. Hsu worked on the organizing committee for Tsai’s visit, she said, and like Wang believed it was important for Tsai to address the crowd in English, since some younger Taiwanese-Americans don’t understand Mandarin.
But how best to engage second-generation Taiwanese-Americans who may be apathetic about the island’s politics and culture still remains a challenge, she added.
“For now, I don’t have a clear answer,” Hsu said. “It’s a never-ending question.”
For her part, Wang tries to spark interest in Taiwan through an organization she founded last March with fellow Rutgers’ graduate Eric Tsai. Their group, Outreach for Taiwan, attempts to spur discussion about the country’s culture, history and politics through educational workshops held at American universities, as well as through social media.
Members of Outreach for Taiwan also take part in rallies and demonstrations. Most recently, they participated in a Sept. 12 march that began outside the UN in Manhattan. Attendees then made their way over to Times Square, calling attention to Taiwan’s exclusion from the UN, which gave the Republic of China’s (ROC) seat to China in 1971.
Wang said that on many levels, her organization matters a lot. “It’s important to me personally because I really cherish the Taiwanese-American identity,” she said. “That’s something I’m very proud of, and something I want to protect.”
But what it means to be Taiwanese-American is also a question shaded with nuance. For some whose parents or grandparents were born in China and came to Taiwan after 1949, when the ROC relocated to the island, the designation “Chinese American” could actually be one they identify more with than Taiwanese-American, Hsu pointed out.
If there was one thing, however, that unified Taiwanese who attended Tsai’s speech, it was their approval of the DPP chairperson’s use of English to directly address Taiwanese-Americans under 30. Noting that there were more younger Taiwanese in attendance than in years past, Tsai used Mandarin at first to ask those who did not understand Chinese to raise their hands.
“Only a few, that’s all,” she said, looking out into the crowd.
Tsai then realized the irony behind the audience’s response to her question. “You don’t understand,” she continued in a quizzical tone, speaking a few sentences afterwards in Taiwanese. “For those of you who don’t understand Chinese,” she continued, “if you don’t understand, then why are you raising your hands?” The crowd erupted in laughter, and Tsai flashed a bright smile.
Speaking English for around six minutes, Tsai noted how young Taiwanese participated last year in the Sunflower movement, taking over the Legislative Yuan to protest attempts to push through a trade pact with China, and how the nation can inspire countries in Asia with its values of democracy, freedom, sustainability and peace.
Wang said that while she and other Taiwanese born in the US cannot vote in next year’s election, they are nonetheless concerned with politics in Taiwan since someday they might return for work.
“The younger generation is into innovation and creativity and improving labor conditions,” Wang said. “If people do want to go back, these are things we do want to know.”
For Hsu, who was born in Taiwan and can fly back next year to vote, the presidential candidates’ positions on domestic issues are important. “I want to know really how [Tsai] will reform the pension system in Taiwan,” she said. Hsu also added that she was curious about how Tsai plans to reduce the nation’s reliance on nuclear energy.
In recent polls, Tsai was out in front of the other two candidates — the Chinese Nationalist Party’s (KMT) Hung Hsiu-chu (洪秀柱) and People First Party Chairman James Soong (宋楚瑜). Hsu said she wants to vote for Tsai, but added that whether she books a flight to go back was still up in the air.
“It depends on whether I have money,” she said.
This is a deeply unsettling period in Taiwan. Uncertainties are everywhere while everyone waits for a small army of other shoes to drop on nearly every front. During challenging times, interesting political changes can happen, yet all three major political parties are beset with scandals, strife and self-inflicted wounds. As the ruling party, the Democratic Progressive Party (DPP) is held accountable for not only the challenges to the party, but also the nation. Taiwan is geopolitically and economically under threat. Domestically, the administration is under siege by the opposition-controlled legislature and growing discontent with what opponents characterize as arrogant, autocratic
June 16 to June 22 The following flyer appeared on the streets of Hsinchu on June 12, 1895: “Taipei has already fallen to the Japanese barbarians, who have brought great misery to our land and people. We heard that the Japanese occupiers will tax our gardens, our houses, our bodies, and even our chickens, dogs, cows and pigs. They wear their hair wild, carve their teeth, tattoo their foreheads, wear strange clothes and speak a strange language. How can we be ruled by such people?” Posted by civilian militia leader Wu Tang-hsing (吳湯興), it was a call to arms to retake
When Lisa, 20, laces into her ultra-high heels for her shift at a strip club in Ukraine’s Kharkiv, she knows that aside from dancing, she will have to comfort traumatized soldiers. Since Russia’s 2022 invasion, exhausted troops are the main clientele of the Flash Dancers club in the center of the northeastern city, just 20 kilometers from Russian forces. For some customers, it provides an “escape” from the war, said Valerya Zavatska — a 25-year-old law graduate who runs the club with her mother, an ex-dancer. But many are not there just for the show. They “want to talk about what hurts,” she
It was just before 6am on a sunny November morning and I could hardly contain my excitement as I arrived at the wharf where I would catch the boat to one of Penghu’s most difficult-to-access islands, a trip that had been on my list for nearly a decade. Little did I know, my dream would soon be crushed. Unsure about which boat was heading to Huayu (花嶼), I found someone who appeared to be a local and asked if this was the right place to wait. “Oh, the boat to Huayu’s been canceled today,” she told me. I couldn’t believe my ears. Surely,