The familiar sound of playground chaos filled the air at the Longhai School, a school for children of migrant workers in Daxing District, Beijing. The kids playing in the schoolyard were out of control, excited to see Americans who had come to observe.   “Hello! Hi! How are you?”  

Students wore blue and red uniforms and ranged from kindergarten to ninth grade. After recess, children in a fifth grade classroom practiced reciting English words and phrases. They asked the group of visiting American students, “What is your favorite season? What do you do on the weekends? What is your name?” They wore wide smiles and waited patiently for each of the visitors to answer. 

According to national surveys, there are more people learning English in China than there are people living in the United States. Schools across China, primarily in big cities, have added English to their curricula in an effort to promote internationalism.  But why English? 

Beginning in the sixteenth century, Great Britain was the wealthiest and most politically powerful nation in Europe. This power advantage led to widespread, British colonialism. During Britain’s Imperial Century alone, about ten million square miles of territory and about four hundred million people were added to the British Empire. Despite the eventual independence of many territories, British cultural influences, and in many cases, the English language, stuck.  India is a prime example.    

China’s first encounters with English occurred during trade conflicts in the 17^th century. The most intense dispute occurred later, during the Opium Wars in the 19^th century, when the British arrived on the coast of China and forced the Chinese to engage in opium trade, even after the Daoguang Emperor had attempted to outlaw the drug. The war resulted in the British dictating terms of settlement, which included forcing the Chinese to continue taking part in the opium deals, as well as the British claiming territory in Hong Kong.   While English was crucial for trade and negotiation, it never became an official language.  

Now, however, English has become the language of 21^st century global capitalism. By the twentieth century, the United States, which has the highest number of native English speakers in the world (also as a result of British colonialism), became one of the most developed nations in terms of economic, political, and military success. Inspired by the economic success of the US, many developing countries, including China, began studying American innovations and economic policies—which, first and foremost, involved understanding the English language. 

In Beijing, English was brought to public spaces in anticipation of the 2008 Olympics, and these changes have continued to prove useful for tourism and international business.   Every ATM has an English option. On subways, announcements that prepare passengers for upcoming stops are made in Mandarin, then in English. In busy areas, restaurants have English translations underneath each menu item. Some of the written translations are broken and flawed, but the main ingredients always manage to get across to the customer. These restaurant owners aren’t the only ones who embrace English as a way of maximizing profit. 

The Silk Market is Beijing’s most popular shopping center for international tourists. Over fifteen hundred vendors sell counterfeit, designer brand clothing and accessories for prices that reflect the bargaining skills of shoppers. Vendor success is attributed not only to the popularity of their products, but also to their ability to swoon customers. When catering to English speaking customers, vendors will claim, “This is a very special price, just for you,” or, “That looks great on you! Very nice.” When customers offer to pay lower prices, certain English phrases are especially helpful. “Are you kidding me? That is way too cheap for this sweater. I need to make money.”  

Beijing nightlife is conducted, at least in part, in English. Nightclubs are crowded, loud, and full of young Chinese people dancing to remixed versions of American pop-songs. At Karaoke joints, locals belt lyrics to songs by Rihanna, Katy Perry, Britney Spears, the Backstreet boys, and the Black Eyed Peas. The Chinese are not shy about getting onstage and singing directly into the microphone, and they certainly aren’t afraid of English lyrics; they even have some of them memorized. It’s obvious that they hear English pop songs just as often as Americans do. 

Zhang Lijia is an international journalist from Nanjing.   We had the pleasure of a long, afternoon meeting with her on campus, where she told us her story and answered questions about her career as a journalist and a writer.   In 1980, her mother pulled her out of school to work in a factory, assembling missiles.    With dreams of becoming a journalist, Zhang devoted herself to learning English. “I listened to English songs, read English books, and practiced speaking English all day at the factory. People thought I was crazy. They called me a toad who longed to eat swan’s meat.”  

Zhang’s first step toward journalism involved translating documentaries for an English TV station. Soon after, she became an assistant to foreign journalists. She left the job, after growing frustrated with the process of correcting other peoples’ writing, to become a freelance journalist. Today, Zhang does all of her writing in English.  She is unwilling to put up with the censorship she would face with Chinese publishers.   In 2008, she published a memoir, Socialism is Great.   She is completing a novel, Lotus, based on the experience of her grandmother who had been sold into prostitution.  

Every year, the number of children enrolled in private language schools in China increases. Families pay top Yuan in exchange for the guarantee that their sons and daughters will be fluent in English by the time they are ten years old. ABC news, in a study on the effects of English in China, claims that by 2015 all schools will begin teaching English in kindergarten. 

Here in Beijing, members of the PittMAP group have become itinerant English teachers.   Every Friday night, Renmin University in Beijing hosts “the English corner,” where students and members of the community gather to practice speaking English. Nearly one hundred people huddle around on a cold night in an open quad, eager to pose questions like “What is your name? Where are you from? Do you study here?” My presence sparked excitement from those who wanted to meet an American and to test their progress. Everyone wanted to learn English for a different reason. Some had hopes of transferring to American universities. Some would have to know a thousand English phrases in order to be hired as state employees. Some just wanted to add the language to their skill sets. 

When I asked whether or not they think it’s fair that English is being forced upon young children in primary schools, they looked confused. One young man, who called himself Sawyer, replied, “It’s just like any other subject in school. You know, like math, science, history.” That’s when Cassie appeared--a young Chinese girl, no more than four feet tall, wearing pigtails and a puffy pink coat. “Hi! How are you?”  

Blindfolded, I would have mistaken her for an American. “I’ve been learning English since I was two,” she announced.   And how old are you now? “Seven,” she said as she skipped away into the crowd.