“For me, the two years I spent living and teaching at the Chinese University of Hong Kong (1991-1993) transformed my world view. I grew up in a suburb of Rochester, New York, and had only traveled overseas to Italy and England. As a white woman and native English speaker, I was accustomed to being in the majority and easily navigating the world. In Hong Kong I was exposed to an entirely new language, culture, and community. As I navigated the subway system and restaurants, I struggled to communicate. And in the New Territories, which had a much smaller international population than Hong Kong Island, I was a minority for the first time in my life. This experience was humbling and taught me to be curious and ask questions. I loved my students and my tenure launched me on a path as an educator. Upon my return to the United States, I enrolled in a Ph.D. program in American Studies and then had a 25-year-long career as a high school Social Studies teacher at Bullis School. I recently stepped away from full-time teaching but have returned to my ESL roots. I now volunteer with adult immigrants, teaching English and helping people prepare for the citizenship exam.Lastly, I used Hong Kong as a ‘home base’ to explore much of Southeast Asia. Over two years I traveled to Vietnam, Malaysia, Singapore, Taiwan, Thailand, the Philippines, and mainland China. I am forever grateful for this opportunity to see the world and experience new cultures first hand. My love of travel continued long after Yale-China: at Bullis School, I led student trips to Argentina, Cambodia (3 times!) and Germany. And just recently, I traveled solo to Korea and Japan.I am forever appreciative that the Yale-China Association selected me as a teaching fellow back in April, 1991. It truly transformed my life.”

— Sara Romeyn, Yale China Fellow (Hong Kong 1991-'93)

“The following incident stands unique among all my Yale-China experiences. It involves an interaction with a stranger. A stranger who did not approach me to practice speaking English. A stranger who did not stare at me, jaw hanging, because of my foreign face. A stranger who asked an everyday question, and taught me a lesson for a lifetime. One day in Changsha, I was going about my business on a city street. An older woman approached me, and asked if I knew where a certain street was. “Ha, ha,” I said to myself, “I’m lucky I know where I am and where I am going, much less where anything outside my normal routine might be.” “No,” I replied out loud, “I am not from here, and I am sorry I cannot help.” She looked puzzled. She asked me where I was from. I told her I was from America. Instead of eliciting the usual wide eyes, or the knowing look of someone who expected as much, she went on as if I’d said I were from Wuhan. “Oh, America, so did you travel here by train?” Why is this a lifelong memory? She possessed a complete ignorance of geography. At first, and for many years, I laughed. How could someone not know about the ocean that separates China and North America? Yet that laughter has always felt uncomfortable. I am privileged to have an education, to have had parents who had access to travel, to have been born in a country and to a family where both were possible. I am lucky to have been born when I was, so the opportunity to live in China was even available, after more than 30 years of isolation. This woman had a very different education and was born in a place and to a family and at a time where and when my opportunities were not available to her. Thus, she did not know, and she knew that she did not know, and was curious. She treated me like another human. She was lost. I was a fellow human who did not seem lost. Therefore, maybe I could help orient her. She ignored my foreignness. Indeed, she did not seem to notice my foreignness. Since that hardly seems plausible, I presume she chose to overlook it. Maybe, since she was lost yet I was not, I knew something she could learn. She, alone among the hundreds of people I met in China, behaved in this way. She educated me. She showed me that every person knows something I do not know. Therefore, I ought to approach each individual with an open mind, and be available to learn from him/her. She had the wisdom to suppress her assumptions, and so should I. Despite seeing with her own eyes that I did not look like most people she knew, she allowed room in our conversation for me to prove her right or wrong. She reminded me not to take my good fortune for granted and to appreciate each individual for their own unique experiences. Though I never ran into this woman again, she lives forever in my memory. I am forever grateful to her.”

— Jan Kleinman, Yale-China Fellow (Hunan Medical University 1983-'85)

Me with young middle school English teachers who are studying at Huazhong Normal University in 1985

Me with my second-year English language students at Huazhong Normal University

Photos submitted by Larry Grippo, Yale-China Fellow (Huazhong Normal University 1983-’85)

“While I have many great memories from my time as a Yale-China Fellow in Xiuning, I am still especially moved when I think about our musical performances at the Haiyang Theater. Watching the students give their all on stage, surrounded by the joy of their family and friends, gave me a deep sense of pride in the mission of the fellowship and in the camaraderie among my co-fellows. Months of planning and rehearsal gave way to a few evenings each year when it felt as if the entire local community had come together, with parents filling the seats and isles to watch their children perform. I feel fortunate to have been a part of it. If I may say anything to future fellows, savor these moments and keep alive the tradition of the post-musical celebratory BBQ. And to my co-fellows, thank you for the memories.”

— Tyler Hayward, Yale-China Fellow (Xiuning 2022-'24)

“My story reflects on how Yale China has been a force for increasing American knowledge about China. As a Yale senior, I had a problem. I had developed an interest in Chinese history, and was thinking about graduate school. But I had never been to China. Yale China was the obvious solution. Not only did I get to China, I got to live there for 2 years, interact with many friends, students and colleagues, but I got a solid language foundation. To make a story short, I came back, went to graduate school, got a teaching position and, over the next 33 years taught about 5000 undergraduates, and about 15 Ph.D. students. I couldn’t be more grateful to Yale China.”

— R. Kent Guy, Yale-China Fellow (Chinese University of Hong Kong 1970-'72)

“In my first academic year, 1961-62, at New Asia as a Yale Fellow (or Yali Bachelor being from another century), Professor Theodore Greene, from Yale’s Department of Philosophy and a visiting professor at New Asia College gave an outdoor address to the entire New Asia community stressing both the value and the universality of liberal arts education. He defined liberal arts education succinctly as an education dedicated to developing our capacity to think clearly, judge wisely and communicate effectively. Sitting in the courtyard of a newly founded refugee college that was in the process of becoming one of the three founding colleges of a new Chinese University for Hong Kong, his presentation seemed both profound and obvious.

For the next six decades plus, his message, and the context in which it came to me that morning, have remained central to my life’s work. It remains for me a profound idea; but I have learned over time, and with much pain, that it is a far from an obvious concept for far too many people. Because I have never been as succinct as someone like Professor Greene and because too much of what I have experienced in the ensuing decades compels me to be more explicit, I have added words to his definition. Clear thinking, by definition, must be critical, ethical and creative. Wise judgment involves action and consequence, or it is simply observation. What often is called liberal arts education is the core purpose of all education. Education is about developing habits of mind, not just about conveying bodies knowledge. Those habits of mind can grow, develop and be developed in any individual at any age in any context.

Experiencing education and teaching in a refugee college focused primarily on Chinese students in a British colonial outpost determined both that my future career would be in education and the basic principles that would guide my approach to that career. The purpose of education is universal: to develop the individual’s capacity to think clearly, critically, and creatively; to judge wisely and act humanely and ethically, and to communicate effectively. Recognize and utilize the incredible resilience and capacity of young people- a lesson that imprinted itself in my mind the first time I visited a New Asia science class and watched students sitting at their lab desks listening to the professor lecture to them in Mandarin Chinese, while they talked with their lab partners in Cantonese Chinese, and while both professor and students were referencing an English language text book. In many, many different ways, those students taught me that education at all levels is most effective when students are partners in, not just the object of the process and that their capacities should not be underestimated.

The absurdity and, unfortunately, the universality of the bigotry of race and class - Teaching in Hong Kong, a colonial, multi-nationality community, taught me the absurdity of the bigotry generated by class and race but also its power, capacity to do harm and universality. No culture had a monopoly on bigotry. No culture was immune. That such bigotry could and would appear anywhere shaped a lot of the responses I had to develop in dealing with it when it did appear. The importance of institutions in building healthy societies. Yale China taught me that if you really want to make a positive difference in the world, work to build institutions that reflect and carry forward your dreams and values. They can last. You cannot. ”

— Gregory Prince, Yale-China Fellow (Chinese University of Hong Kong 1961-'63), Former Trustee

Photos submitted by Drew Nuland, Yale-China Fellow (Hunan Medical University 1986-’88), current Trustee

Sophie Zhu with Tony Reese and me when we took our class of middle-aged doctors to Mao’s hometown, Shaoshan

Dinner at Dr Liu’s - a tradition enjoyed by all Changsha-based teachers for decades

Five of the six 1987-1988 Changsha bachelors (missing Alex Wilmerding)

Tony Reese leading EMC '86 students in an English game

Tony Reese, Heidi Hohmann and Peter Stein on a bike trip in Changsha

Bill Jackson and me teaching and horsing around with kids in front of the Yale-China house

Lunch on the balcony of Yale China bachelor house (prepared by the infamous Lao Yang)

Pre-1949 Yali Principal, Ying Kaishi

Pre-1949 Yali Principal, Ying Kaishi at our train station send off when he headed to New Haven to receive the Yale Medal (1988?).

“I was in my first year of the fellowship when COVID-19 started - and remember being stranded in Taiwan when the first quarantine in Wuhan happened. It was so challenging to do English pedagogy from abroad, but we were able to work together to do a virtual speech competition for the Yale-China kids. It was very cool and fun for everyone! ”

— Wayne Zhang, Yale-China Fellow (Yali 2019-'20)