It was not just living under the threat of isolation and being taken to a quarantine centre. Many describe how a forced switch to survival mode created a deep sense of insecurity. Now, some are outlining highly transformed life plans.
Earlier this year, 27-year-old Sandra Shen, who teaches piano at her apartment, was discussing with her husband, also from Shanghai, whether they would soon have children. She was hesitant. Now, he’s decided: It’s not a firm.
It was not a single thing, but a combination of factors that led to his decision. First came the decision of the authorities to lock down the entire city – no such step would be necessary after the authorities indicated. Then came the difficulty of securing online grocery delivery and the forced entry by authorities into apartments whose residents were taken to quarantine centres. Perhaps the last straw for Ms Shane, who has two dogs, was video footage of a Corgi owner being beaten to death by a community worker after he was taken into quarantine.
“It is enough that our generation is being bullied,” she said. Her new plan is to travel and retire early, perhaps at the age of 40.
Shanghai’s version of the lockdown continues across the country, raising concerns among many young Chinese about limited upward mobility. Many middle-class citizens who have believed that they can hope for a brighter future if they work hard and follow the rules, are now realizing that the “China Dream” set by President Xi Jinping they cannot be included,
People around the world have made major life changes during the pandemic, such as moving away from big cities or resigning from jobs that feel too stressful. In China, responses have been stymied by the authorities’ zero-tolerance approach to small outbreaks, which means rolling lockdowns, mass testing and quarantines in centralized facilities. For some, this has taken a form of awareness of how easily their lives can be extended in line with government directives, eliminating their desire to start families, buy apartments or start businesses. .
There was already a phrase to describe young people’s disillusionment: “lying a lie”—a rejection of long working hours and traditional expectations of marriage and children of certain ages. A new expression for deep despair is now gaining ground: “Let it rot.”
Pessimism and despair, especially among young Chinese people with stricter COVID measures, have now crystallized in a censored video clip that shows a conversation between a young man in Shanghai and officials trying to take him to a quarantine centre. Were trying to. Responding to warnings from pandemic-control workers that if he doesn’t obey, the consequences could pass to the next three generations of his family, the man actually said: “We are the last generation.”
A 36-year-old theater manager in Shanghai who has been single for years says she is now completely eliminating any thoughts about getting married.
The woman, who agreed to be identified only by her last name, Yuan, moved from Beijing to Shanghai in late 2020, where the demonstration company she worked for was battered by strict COVID controls. She was attracted by Shanghai’s success in keeping matters low while avoiding major disruptions to businesses and people’s lives, and hoped to eventually start her own theater company.
In March, when cases of the Omicron version of the virus began to emerge, it assumed Shanghai officials would have the outbreak under control within a week or two.
The gravity of the lockdown was a shock, Ms Yuan said. In early April, she was sending food every day to neighbors who had failed to stock up. After seeing even the richest residents in her expensive apartment complex begging for food, she said she realized that even basic essentials could not be guaranteed in today’s China.
She now hopes to save a sizable amount by investing in a low-risk investment product or opening a grocery store in her hometown in Heilongjiang province. “I’m rethinking my career and family plans. I’m too cautious, too pessimistic,” she said.
Even before the pandemic, Chinese officials were concerned about declining births and declining marriage rates. The Communist Party has emphasized “family values” over the years. Mr. Xi has called families the cells of the society, which are the basis of the prosperity of the nation.
Shanghai already has one of the lowest birth rates in the country, with the total number of children a woman will have in her lifetime in 2021 at 0.7. Last year there were more deaths than births in Shanghai.
COVID-related confinement has been linked to an increase in depression and mental-health issues around the world. In early 2020, when the first outbreak of COVID-19 occurred in Wuhan, central China, months of isolation and anxiety took a toll on residents’ mental health, leading to an increase in suicides.
This spring, around the time Shanghai’s 25 million residents began to grapple with COVID restrictions, including lockdown measures, saw a surge in searches on the Chinese search engine Baidu Inc. for “psychological consultation”.
A Beijing-based doctor, who volunteered his counseling services during both the lockdown in Wuhan in 2020 and Shanghai this year, said he saw an increase in calls for help through free hotlines in both cities as people went home. But they were shouting. Meanwhile, her paying customers have struggled to keep up with regular sessions. Some of them have lost their jobs and cannot pay for sessions, while others are locked in with their parents or young children and have no privacy, she said.
Emily Hu, 44, an in-house lawyer at a US company in Shanghai who has been ordered to stay home since March 10, said she has been eating sweets to cope with anxiety and depression, reading about other The people who could not get immediate medical facilities due to the lockdown became even worse.
Ms Hu said that after returning to Shanghai from New York in 2013, she thought she would live in her hometown for the rest of her life. Married to a US citizen, she had not considered pursuing US permanent residency until the lockdown. “If the government can lock us down for three months, I don’t know what can happen in the future,” she said. Although she criticizes American politics, she now has a green card on her agenda. “I just need an alternative,” she said.
George Chen, a salesman at a technology company in Beijing, said for months he hasn’t been able to travel much for work because of the COVID-19 restrictions. For failing to meet his sales goals, he has lost his bonus. Most of his basic monthly salary of about 3,000 yuan, equivalent to about $445, goes to pay rent for an apartment he shares with others. Mr Chen, in his late 20s and native of Hebei province, said he has now postponed his plans to buy an apartment and find a girlfriend.
“Let’s be realistic. Do I look very marketable now?” They said. His short-term plan is to move back to Hebei with his parents and then find out what lies ahead.
Late one night recently, he received an automated phone call from Beijing officials saying he was in close proximity to someone with a confirmed COVID infection, meaning he could not go to public places unless until the health code on their phone turns green. This may involve two PCR tests and a wait of several days.
Although he knew it was an automated message, he said, he couldn’t help shouting at his phone.
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