Months of social unrest in Hong Kong have left pupils, who live on the mainland but studied in the city, terrorized. Distressed parents are considering taking their children back to mainland schools amid worries about their safety and politics on campuses. Gu Mengyan reports.

Hong Kong’s lingering turmoil may turn out to be the last straw for Tina Zhang and her 8-year-old son, who used to cross the boundary to the city from Shenzhen drowsily each morning to attend school before the coronavirus outbreak.
The Primary Three pupil was on a school bus to Sha Tin one morning in mid-November when radical protesters blocked a thoroughfare in the New Territories and set fire to makeshift barricades.
Zhang, staggered at the traffic and other violent-protest-related alerts popping up on her mobile phone, decided to turn back and took her son home, fleeing the citywide chaos.
I’ve discussed the matter with other parents at my daughter’s school. We believe that before children finish primary school, it’s too demanding to go through all sorts of administrative procedures to send our kids to mainland schools
Helen Chen, mother of a cross-boundary pupil
“My son’s safety is, of course, paramount, while the hardest thing is to explain to him what’s happening on the streets and why people have so much hatred for each other,” she said.
The following day, the Education Bureau suspended classes for a week to ensure that students are safe. The unexpected holiday gave Zhang and her son a break from the 5:30 am alarm and a three-hour commute that have become routine over the past four years.
“As a parent, I was exhausted physically and mentally. Our family has strived for years with just one goal — getting our kid the best we can offer. Now it’s gone,” said Zhang. She has been at odds with her husband, a computer engineer working in Shenzhen, over whether to have their child back at a Shenzhen school for the next school year.
Hong Kong descended into incendiary chaos in June last year after often-violent protests erupted against the government’s proposed amendments to its extradition laws. Fires raged on the streets almost every weekend and businesses, notably those with Chinese mainland links, were targeted and vandalized as rioters broke loose. Hong Kong’s international reputation as Asia’s leading business hub was battered.
The movement morphed into a broad campaign claiming to represent every gripe and grievance festering in the city, particularly among youth. The anti-government protesters warned that the insurrection would not stop until the government met all their “five demands”, including an independent probe into alleged police brutality.
Zhang was shocked to learn that an 11-year-old boy was the youngest among some 1,000 underaged students arrested. About 80 teachers were also detained for their roles in the upheaval, including a 40-year-old kindergarten teacher, who was charged with assaulting a 3-year-old girl related to a police officer.
Zhang is among scores of unnerved mainland parents who’re worried that their children will fall victim to an outpouring of anti-mainland sentiment, stemming from discontent with the government.
The umbra of campus politics — class boycotts, school bullying and human chains preventing admittance to classes — weighed on Zhang heavily. More than 150 complaints have been filed with the Education Bureau over alleged teacher misconduct in schools since June. She said students and teachers who’re prejudiced against people from the mainland worry her most.
A survey by the Hong Kong Federation of Education Workers found that more than 40 percent of those polled in 168 schools had reported students under emotional distress stemming from the unrest, with 25 percent of teachers equally affected. About 10 schools recorded cases of bullying. The result of the survey was released in September — before the situation deteriorated.
Zhang also complained about anti-mainland bias in textbooks, which she believes may have contributed to Hong Kong’s political rift. She had never noticed it until mainland media drew attention to the issue. “It’s hard to say those contents are wrong. But, they should not hinge on one side of the story of China. My kid should know both,” she said.
Hanging on
About 27,000 cross-boundary pupils, who were born in Hong Kong to mainland parents or from local families but live on the mainland, spend hours each day commuting to the city to attend school. Most of them live in Shenzhen.
Helen Chen, who has a 10-year-old daughter, said she saw no reason for her child to quit school in the middle of a school year, with the caveat that Hong Kong cannot slip further into chaos. Her Primary Five daughter studies at a school in Sheung Shui, just 5 kilometers south of Shenzhen.
“I’ve discussed the matter with other parents at my daughter’s school. We believe that before children finish primary school, it’s too demanding to go through all sorts of administrative procedures to send our kids to mainland schools,” she said.
At the height of the violent protests, classes had to be suspended on school and university campuses across Hong Kong on safety grounds. Parents then began debating over whether to take their children back to the mainland to continue with their schooling.
But, the debate subsided after classes resumed in late November, said Chen. She manages an online chat group where 600 parents discuss how their children can best cope with the impact of the political tempest in schools.
Chen would also prefer her daughter to sit for the Diploma of Secondary Education examination — Hong Kong’s college entrance exam — in which a sound performance could ensure opportunities for students to study overseas.
The DSE is perceived less ferocious than the Gaokao exam on the mainland. But, the DSE result is so far acknowledged in 18 developed countries and regions by more than 280 tertiary institutions, including the University of Cambridge and Yale University.
Chen’s daughter may also choose to take the mainland’s Joint Entrance Exam for Universities, which opens the door for admission to elite universities on the mainland, with lower test scores than her mainland counterparts would need to obtain.
Her daughter is also afraid her academic performance will slide under a different education system. Mainland schools have different exams and curriculum patterns designed to encourage competition. Over and above that, mainland students have learned Mandarin and simplified Chinese characters since they were very young. Hong Kong kids have not.
Secondary school pupils in urban schools on the mainland were judged the best in the world in a global study of student and school performance, released in December by the Organization for Economic Cooperation and Development.
The study assessed the performance of 15-year-olds from 79 education systems around the world in three categories — science, mathematics and reading. Mainland pupils took all the top spots, while their Hong Kong counterparts ranked fourth in both reading and mathematics, and ninth in scientific literacy.
The “back to the north” trend has not really taken hold, said Torres Lee Chi-hung, a coordinator in charge of cross-boundary student services at the International Social Service Hong Kong Branch — a non-profit organization that has more than 8,000 users.
We haven’t recorded any case of a school transfer yet, said Lee, although a number of parents did inquire about pulling their kids back to Shenzhen, citing safety reasons.
Between the dilemma
Ming Nuo Education — a Shenzhen-based exam training center — said Shenzhen’s primary education standard is catching up quickly, which has led to more parents shifting their focus to placements in Shenzhen schools.
Shenzhen’s school system, however, has been overstretched for years, as the city — China’s innovation hub — sees a continued influx of young workers. It has about 350 primary schools for a population of 14 million. In comparison, Guangdong’s provincial capital of Guangzhou has 965 primary schools for its 15 million people.
In 2017, Shenzhen relaxed its policies, granting children born in Hong Kong to mainland parents admission to the city’s public primary schools, even though the children are not included in the mainland’s household registration system, known as hukou.
Parents argued that the relaxation of school admission terms is still less attractive, because competition for slots in top-notch public schools still depends heavily on whether children have a Shenzhen hukou.
Cross-boundary children are treated the same as tens of thousands of others whose hukous are not in Shenzhen, which means their chances of being admitted to a quality school are slim.
In addition to hukou, the point-based enrollment mechanism attaches priorities to permanent residency, property ownership and social security.
Moreover, mainland parents tend to doubt the teaching quality of private schools, while most of them cannot afford tuition at international schools in Shenzhen, anyway.
“I wanted to keep my kid close for family protection. My husband insists on their staying in Hong Kong at least until after primary school,” Zhang said. “We’ll wait and see whether Hong Kong’s situation turns better.”
There are parents who cannot wait. Hing Tak School in Tuen Mun and Tsuen Wan Trade Association Primary School saw three cross-boundary pupils dropping out, respectively, during the last semester, according to the schools.
“My son will cry if he has to leave. He has friends who have been with him here for four years,” said Zhang. “I think of school transfer as the last option after weighing the pros and cons.”
Likewise, Zhang didn’t want to give up the privileges that only the Hong Kong system can bring, such as the DSE exam. Her “last option” would be the Shenzhen Luohu School for Hongkong Children — one of two Shenzhen schools whose students are still eligible for Hong Kong Secondary School Placement Allocation.
The school’s president Liu Cheung-hin said he has seen a significant rise in the number of inquiries about admission to the school.
With the current turbulent school year drawing to a close, parents of cross-boundary pupils are keeping their fingers crossed that peace and inclusiveness will eventually return to Hong Kong, saving them from the dilemma of pondering the future of their children and families.
Contact the writer at jefferygu@chinadailyhk.com
