Orville Taylor | Chinese benevolence makes sense

People act on the basis of how you make them feel, not merely what you say or do.

A small number of students, just more than 100, at the tiny Kew Park Primary School in Westmoreland received a rapid response needed to fix infrastructure at their school, which would lead to the continuation of their learning process.

Although numbers matter, many social movements and historical processes begin with one single individual who, at a particular point in time, was affected by the actions of others, and such action led to strong enough feelings to make a difference. Sometimes that single person, in a modern context, might become a mega actor or simply an individual who can pen a letter to the right person at the right time, for social change to take place.

Time may eventually reveal the lasting impact of the donation of the Jamaican Chinese Federation to that tiny school that cannot even be found on the map, but the basic lesson to be learned from that encounter is evidenced in the way in which the Chinese, both locally and otherwise, have quietly contributed to the uplift of black people.

Speaking directly from my journey as a boy from St George’s, the Chinese, having gone through a different kind of historical process than the Africans here, had greater facilities to enhance their economic advancement and, ultimately, with the stronger middle-class bias of these processes, ended up being over-represented in the school population on North Street. Now, while many, if not most, who passed through the institution literally did so like roughage or fibre, a number of them have made major donations in cash, kind and energy for the maintenance of the institution.

The money contributed over the decades is multimillion, and the impact of these contributions is not distributed along ethnic or racial lines.

At the personal level, I completely surprised both the classes of 1975 and 1976 over the past year when I was able to recall so many of them by name, nickname, and some of the things that they thought few knew. David Lee, Nigel and Donovan Chin See, David Chang and others perhaps had very little idea that the conversations in the Mendel Biological Society or on the steps of the O’Hare Building would have shaped my appreciation for these second- or third-generation Chinese and Chinese people on the whole, simply because of the humanity they displayed.

The latter, Chin See, will be inducted into the Hall of Fame this year because of the sterling work that he has done to not just enhance his alma mater, but many aspects of Jamaican society, including sports.

But that is a different story.

The Chinese discovered something that Africans have yet to, and it is what I call a pan-Sinoism. In essence, this means that the Chinese recognise that they are part of a larger Chinese ecosystem that is not limited to their place of origin on the Asian continent, but continues in a functional and systemic way here. The Chinese Benevolent Association is a different entity from our Pan-African Institute or any of the local products that originated from Marcus Garvey’s activism.

True, there is a significant difference between the Chinese from modern-day China and those who are ethnically Jamaican. However, those persons who have to interface directly with the rest of the world understand the importance of not just dealing with the material reality, but also how people see them.

Interestingly, in school, the typical Chinese boy was peaceful but not soft. Whether it was fact, myth or grand narrative, every Chinese boy was a martial artist and thus capable of thumping even bigger boys.

In retrospect, we do not really know if they all knew any Jeet Kune Do or Wing Chun, but perception mattered.

Fast-forward to 2026: Beijing, China. Stuck kilometres away from our hotel, my family and I. For the first time in more than 40 years of travelling and dozens of countries, I am in a city where I do not speak any of the native languages. In fact, even the symbols make no sense to me.

No taxi was available. It is a well-regulated country where the American dollar is not legal tender. Chinese cash works in some places, but electronic transactions are better. You are strangers and foreigners with a minor child.

Hailing taxis makes no difference. I have no idea whether they will stop, as they did in Shanghai. Nothing. Across the road, at the transport centre, a blank wall; no one speaks English and our gesticulations are embarrassing and elicit apologetic smiles.

It did not help that I kept hearing them say ‘nei ga’ or something like that, although mothers asked to take our pictures and even a child wanted to see if my colour could come off. No! The word is not what it sounds like, but it still bothered me.

Later, I learned that ‘zhú xiānwéi bù’ meant the fabric made from their bamboo, but it was not relevant then.

Then, in a country where atheism is the official doctrine, an angel appeared. Winter, she said her name was. Her English was workable but not fluent. She was at the bus stop with a male companion. After failing multiple times to get us a taxi using her phone apps, she took the altruistic step of taking us through multiple stages of a one-hour journey on the subway. We bought our tickets, and she paid for hers.

She refused reimbursement and said, “China does not permit foreign social media. So we cannot keep contact. I only want you to know how good we Chinese people are.”

Xie xie ni!

Orville Taylor is senior lecturer at Department of Sociology at The University of the West Indies, a radio talk-show host, and author of ‘Broken Promises, Hearts and Pockets’. Send feedback to columns@gleanerjm.com and tayloronblackline@hotmail.com.