Finding Gaps in Philanthropy: A Charity Worker's Reflection on “Sweat! Stop! Rewrite!” Project (Part I)

Author Bio: Ading, a staff member of a philanthropic foundation in Guangzhou. In 2020, she joined the “Sweat! Stop! Rewrite!” project, supporting community education practices and family mutual aid collaboration for migrant female workers. She has approximately 10 years of experience in supporting the establishment of communities for migrant worker families.

Before sharing my experiences with “Sweat! Stop! Rewrite!” and the writing course, I’d like to discuss my past philanthropic work and the challenges(i) faced by the Chinese charity sector in recent years. This background was what made my encounter with Jing, the initiator of “Sweat! Stop! Rewrite!”, so enlightening – I found a different interpretation of the issues and saw an alternative path forward.

I entered the charity sector in 2007. At that time, the entire society was continuing the reform and opening-up atmosphere from the 90s, emphasizing alignment with international standards. Many early entrants into the charity industry mention the 1995 Beijing World Women’s Conference. This was the first United Nations international conference hosted by China. Over 15,000 people attended, including government delegations from 189 countries, representatives from various UN system organizations, intergovernmental organizations, and NGOs. Among them, over 5,000 were dignitaries from various countries, while more than 10,000 were from NGOs. The conference formulated and approved the “Beijing Declaration” and “Action Program”, introducing the concept of “gender mainstreaming” and setting gender equality as one of the goals of social policy. This conference popularized the term and the organizational entity of NGOs. Subsequently, many individuals from government agencies, universities, and research institutions ventured out to establish or join NGOs, promoting issues such as environmental protection, poverty alleviation, education, and gender equality. Many international NGOs also set up offices in China to conduct business.

I’ve worked with NGOs with international and Hong Kong backgrounds. At that time, many grassroots NGOs (teams usually small) emerged in China, distinct from those with official backgrounds. Many of these NGOs received funding from foreign foundations. Against this backdrop, many charity workers had a sense of driving social transformation, yearning for a more equitable and open world. Hence, the tone then was about participatory community development, civic education, the third sector, and civil society, aligning with the “enlightenment” discourse emphasized by universities, media, and publishing houses.

Following the 2008 Wenchuan earthquake in Sichuan, civilians actively engaged in rescue efforts, leading to the emergence of a significant number of new NGOs. Some researchers believe that the period from 2008 to 2018 was the “golden decade” of Chinese charity. Various social members formed organizations for common beliefs or interests, gradually constructing a “public life” domain. Some organizations cared for vulnerable groups, such as those supporting silicosis patients, urban poor, and left-behind children(ii). Others advocated for rights against hepatitis B discrimination, gender discrimination, and animal abuse. Some even explored new lifestyles and comprehensive community development. Many founders of these organized charitable ventures came from diverse fields, including journalists, lawyers, engineers, and university professors. Young people who entered the charity sector studied a variety of humanities and science and engineering subjects. Some even started NGOs targeting factory workers immediately after graduating from junior or senior high school.

However, after 2018, the charity sector began to decline. Indeed, we cannot overlook the significant impact of legal policies, funding sources, and the public opinion environment on the charity industry.

Legal Policies: Over the past decade, two significant laws have impacted the philanthropic sector in China. Firstly, the “Charity Law,” effective from September 1, 2016, laid down the foundational operating principles for charitable activities, covering aspects such as donations, fund usage, organizational operations, and publicity. While this law brought about standardization in the industry, it also subjected various operations to stricter and more detailed administrative controls. For instance, the Charity Law stipulates that administrative expenses for charitable organizations must not exceed 10% of the total annual expenditure, a provision particularly challenging for smaller or labour-intensive entities. Some scholars argue that this reflects the government’s view of charitable organizations as mere supplements to state welfare and as implementers of specific projects. Secondly, the “PRC Law on the Management of Domestic Activities of Overseas NGOs,” effective from January 1, 2017, mandates that foreign NGOs operating in China must align with a local supervisory agency and submit detailed activity plans to the security departments periodically. If a registered activity is perceived as a threat to national security, it can be halted through local partners. In light of these regulations, numerous philanthropic entities have vanished, with many philanthropists, lawyers, journalists, artists, and others facing incarceration or surveillance, leaving a chilling effect on those who managed to evade such actions. Some international foundations chose to maintain a low profile, while others outright ceased their operations in China.

Funding Sources: Post-2017 saw a significant decline in financial support from overseas foundations to local NGOs. Consequently, some organizations shut down, transformed, or downsized. Funding from the government, domestic foundations, corporations, and public donations began to surge. However, grassroots NGOs often found themselves ill-equipped or reluctant to tap into these resources. Such funds primarily flowed towards government-backed entities and major charitable relief organizations, further constricting the space for grassroots NGOs.

Public Discourse: Concurrently, domestic foundations, social work departments, and corporate donors began dominating the industry discourse. The government emphasized that social work should focus on quality service delivery. Some in the business sector even posited that “business is the greatest charity” and that “charitable organizations should emulate the efficiency, management, and productization of business entities.” The emergence of online donation platforms, like Tencent’s 99 Charity Day, reshaped public perception of philanthropy, advocating for joyful charity, harmonious development, and universal participation. This new narrative is starkly different from the insights derived from the 1995 World Conference on Women held in Beijing. Recently, monthly donations have gained popularity in the philanthropic sector, providing a path towards financial independence. However, there’s a need to recognize that aligning with the diverse ideologies of individual monthly donors might not always be easier than syncing with the foundations or corporate entities. Hence, as grassroots NGOs increasingly rely on monthly donors, their initiatives might lean towards being more mainstream, non-controversial, and overwhelmingly positive to align with the general public’s perception and expectations of charity.

Regardless of whether the donors are the government or individuals from the domestic business community or the general public, there’s a strong emphasis on “serving the beneficiaries.” In the current context of philanthropy in China, “service” often means addressing the apparent needs of the beneficiaries rather than truly enlightening and empowering them or nurturing their initiative. The term “service” became popular, and I believe it is linked to the government’s large-scale procurement of social work services and the introduction of the 2017 Overseas NGO Management Law. The underlying rationale is likely the same: to diminish or even eliminate foreign financial and ideological influences, suppress the growth space of social organizations as independent civil forces, integrate these organizations into the official system, and maintain societal stability through foundational services (like elderly care, services for troubled children, youth services, disabled services, community drug rehabilitation, and correction) and community activities, the aim is to maintain social stability, reduce dissatisfaction, and curb extreme incidents. In essence, there’s nothing wrong with the government using public taxes to provide basic services for vulnerable groups; it’s their duty. The issue arises when the roles and functions of the government, business, and civil institutions become blurred. Moreover, social workers, eager to achieve their service goals quickly, often distribute gifts, and with administrative support, they can easily “reach thousands of households.” Some NGOs, lacking a clear positioning, might get passively or actively involved in competing for the attention of event participants and donors, relying on “better services.”

Taking Guangzhou as an example, since 2010, Guangzhou began to establish “Family Comprehensive Service Centres” (abbreviated as Family Services) in various subdistricts(iii). In 2018, these were renamed “Community Social Work Service Stations,” with nearly 200 stations currently across the city. These service stations are operated by private social work organizations, and founders usually need significant financial or networking resources. The government makes fixed annual purchases of these services, and many organizations see this as a profitable business venture. The shift from “Family Services” to “Service Stations” suggests a depersonalization, emphasizing these as neighbourhood-established service platforms. Since 2020, Guangdong’s “Double Hundred Project” has allowed social workers to sign labour agreements directly with the government, negating their previous identity as employees of private social work service organizations, effectively bypassing the service stations. This evolution hints at an ongoing process of centralization and increased administration.

Under this situation, a large number of social workers have emerged, many of whom studied in social work programs not necessarily by choice but because of lower entry scores or academic placements(iv). While entering these service stations, they need to obtain a social work certificate, a criterion quite different from the qualifications of philanthropic professionals. However, the lines between social workers and philanthropic professionals have blurred. For instance, NGOs might also receive some government resources (albeit in limited amounts), charity workers might obtain social work certifications, and many activities organized by NGOs, such as early education classes, children’s drawing activities, youth entertainment, outdoor activities, women’s beauty, and yoga classes, increasingly resemble those at service stations and commercial entities. Offering services at no or low cost seems to be the only distinguishing feature of philanthropy. Ironically, when street vendors selling bubble tea or tutoring services market their products for free or at a “charitable price,” they label it as “charitable activity.” In such an environment, those attending these so-called charitable events expect quality service as a given (Some people even say that the government has already paid.), and many feel gratitude, viewing these services as acts of kindness. While this seems to align with traditional Chinese culture, it diverges significantly from the essence and goals of modern philanthropy.

It is precisely in such an environment that the public welfare sector should seek new directions. Before coming into contact with the “Sweat! Stop! Rewrite!” project, I had already firmly considered leveraging change through reading and writing, but I hadn’t found a suitable collaborator. At that time, I was working at the H Foundation, responsible for the community education department, hoping to train parents of migrant worker(v) to become volunteer teachers.

When this project was first initiated, it collaborated with various NGOs and community service centres. Each term, it recruited and trained about 30 volunteer teachers, including charity workers and parent volunteers (mainly urban parents, with a minority being parents of migrant workers, and the majority being women). The project provided them with free learning opportunities, and the only requirement was that each participant had to complete several hands-on sessions in the urban villages where the public welfare project was launched, delivering parent-child picture book reading lessons to families of migrants(vi). We hoped that a mutual aid relationship would form between urban parents and parents of migrant workers who become volunteer teachers, and also among the migrant worker parents themselves. The aim was to address the educational disparities(vii) faced by migrant families, and we hoped that these parents would raise public awareness starting from the education sector, eventually participating more in public affairs in their communities. The ultimate goal of the project was to “harness the power of the community to nurture children” and facilitate social integration, creating a more child-friendly social environment. There were some assumptions here: for instance, that public welfare workers and urban parents would be more capable and publicly aware than the less educated and economically disadvantaged workers, willing to engage in promoting educational equity, and could set a good example for migrant families. It was also hoped that volunteer teachers, when practicing in urban village communities, would effectively communicate with parents who bring their kids to activities, identifying more parents who wish to bring positive changes to their own families and are willing to offer mutual aid, making them the next batch of volunteer teachers.

The reason for setting up the project in this way was mainly to reflect on the NGO’s method of recruiting college students to provide one-way services for migrant children(viii), aiming to establish a volunteer model that empowers parents. This is because whether it’s non-profit workers directly serving the migrant population, or recruiting college student volunteers to provide services, neither can achieve the goal of benefiting more people. This even creates an inequality within the migrant population – areas with NGOs receive repetitive services, while areas without NGOs see little improvement in the plight of their migrant population. Of course, a limited coverage isn’t necessarily a problem, but it’s vital to use these services and activities to raise awareness among the migrant population, collectively exploring the structural reasons behind their fate, distilling experiences that can be discussed by more activists, and performing necessary theoretical refinements. I fully understand that the working space for non-profit workers is highly limited and discussing the root causes might be impossible, but there’s still a wide spectrum of tasks that can be tackled. For instance, parents interact with their children day and night, having a significant influence over them. Should non-profit activists shift their focus from children to parents? If provided with appropriate books, games, teaching materials, and proper training and supervision, couldn’t parents offer better supplementary education and companionship to their children? Although some oppressions are unspeakable, the relationship between women and their husbands within families can always be explored and improved. This not only creates a better environment for children but also pushes for equality in daily life. Even if they can’t participate in political voting, if families come together to form self-organized groups and jointly manage public spaces, it’s a step towards practicing democracy… This is my vision for migrant families.

For urban middle-class families(ix), I have long hoped they’d recognize the large-scale implementation of enrolment restrictions for migrant children as a highly unequal education policy. In the short term, these families might seem like beneficiaries (without migrants competing for quality educational resources and job opportunities), but in the long run, it’s undoubtedly one of the significant causes of social injustice and instability. When a considerable portion of people are viewed as low-end populations, expendable labour forces, then so-called middle-class families have no basic rights to speak of. For instance, in mega-cities like Beijing, Shanghai, Guangzhou, and Shenzhen, college graduates need to meet various conditions, including job status, social insurance, and property, to obtain local household registration. The threshold for non-local children to attend public schools is high. With increasing property prices, more and more college graduates can’t afford houses, implying they can’t independently obtain household registration, and hence, don’t qualify for top-tier schools. Doesn’t this policy harm the highly educated? I believe this is an essential public issue, concerning children’s education, their future, labourer’s protection and dignity, public welfare policies. I hope it prompts reflection and action among the middle class.

However, my imaginations about these two groups have fallen flat. Migrant families are the bearers of the injustices in social welfare and educational policies. I imagined that they would be able to consciously reflect on their experiences and help themselves and each other. Urban middle-class families face the fear of descending the social ladder, and their wealth and status are very fragile. At the same time, they have received a relatively higher level of education. I imagined that they could delve into the causes of social issues and build more meaningful interpersonal relationships and public lives. But the reality is that in both groups, those willing to think deeply are very few and far between. Even if they seem different in terms of economic income and educational background, they might both see themselves as consumers, embracing and believing in the same advertisements, success teachings, and motivational platitudes.

(i) In the industry context, social workers and charity workers (Gongyi workers) are generally regarded as two distinct concepts, differing in their sources of funding, goals, and working methods. Charity workers primarily refer to those working in philanthropic organizations (commonly divided between foundation and NGO workers). The concept of a social worker emerges after the government procures services, typically referring to those working at social service centres. However, some grassroots NGO workers who have obtained social work certificates also call themselves social workers. The general public’s recognition and acceptance of social workers are comparatively higher. Theoretically, an NGO represents the “third sector,” alongside government and commercial sectors (Non-Governmental Organization). Internationally, it’s a relatively broad concept. However, in domestic legislation and practice, the term NGO is more narrowly used to refer to grassroots NGOs initiated by ordinary citizens, distinguishing them from foundations, INGOs (International NGOs), and institutions with official backing, known as government-operated NGOs (GoNGOs). According to the “Regulations on the Registration and Management of Social Organizations” and the “Interim Regulations on the Registration and Management of Non-Corporate Private Institutions” issued by the Ministry of Civil Affairs in 1998, both social service centres and NGOs fall under the category of private non-enterprise entities. Therefore, distinguishing between social service centres and NGOs is more of an informal industry distinction. Due to the withdrawal of foreign funds, some grassroots NGOs have started to accept government funding, taking on administrative functions and maintaining stability roles, making the operational aspects of NGOs and social service centres increasingly similar.

(ii) These children, either with both parents or one parent moving away from their hometown for more than six months, remain in their place of origin and cannot live with both of their parents. They are aged 0-17 years old. According to the results of the seventh national census, the number of left-behind children in China in 2020 was 66.93 million.

(iii) In China, a subdistrict is an administrative division. It is overseen by urban districts, county-level cities, counties, autonomous counties, banners, or special zones, or it can be directly managed by a prefecture-level city. The administrative agency for the subdistrict is known as the “街道办事处” (subdistrict office or street office).

(iv) China’s university or college reallocates applicants to majors that still have vacancies when certain majors are filled to capacity during the enrolment process. For the applicants, it means that when the major they initially applied for is full, they are willing to be adjusted to another major.

(v) This refers to parents among the migrant population. They typically rent houses in urban villages or industrial parks, have an educational level of junior college or below, engage in manual labour, and have lower incomes and/or extremely long working hours.

(vi) The term “migrant population” refers to the population that is separated from their household registration, excluding those separated within urban districts. A population separated from their household registration means individuals whose current residence is different from their household registration location and have been away from their registration location for over half a year. According to the results of the seventh national census, the size of the migrant population in 2020 reached 376 million, an increase of 140 million from 2019.

(vii) The ” disparities” here refers to the fact that migrant children, due to not having local urban household registration, face difficulties in attending public schools in the city. Parents are either forced to send their children back to their hometowns for schooling, causing separation between parents and children, or they have to pay high tuition fees to enrol their children in private schools of inferior quality.

(viii) “Migrant children” refers to children aged 0-17 within the migrant population. According to the results of the seventh national census, the number of migrant children in 2020 was 71.09 million, accounting for 23.86% of the total number of children in China. This is an increase of 47.3 million from 2010, doubling the number from that year. Guangdong province has consistently ranked first in the number of migrant children nationwide for many years.

(ix) Internal definition: Either oneself or one’s spouse has a college degree or above, possesses a local city household registration, has relatively stable employment, income and social insurance, and the family has purchased a house in an urban community through a mortgage or full payment.