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I studied Comparative Literature in the Faculty of Arts at the University of Hong Kong (HKU). Comparative literature covers many categories such as film and literature, but because I minored in women’s studies, I became very interested in gender and sexuality studies during undergrad. After graduation, I started my master’s degree researching and contrasting the films by Stanley Kwan before and after he came out. I slowly fell in love with teaching and decided to pursue a doctorate and thus began my academic career.

Comparative literature changed my life. As a person and as a homosexual, because we are different than others, we’ve been lonely from childhood. The current technological advances have made it much easier for those that are in the sexual minority as one can connect to others and information just by opening a dating app on a phone. Society was much more conservative twenty years ago. At the time, we had to go to a specific bookstore and furtively look for a book regarding homosexuality to explore one’s own identity. While studying a bit of everything during my first year at university, I happened across comparative literature and discovered that there was specific research about sexual identity and that I could boldly ponder and discuss my homosexual identity. It was at that time that I secretly decided that I would continue down this path to influence and accompany many more lonely marginalised people.

I really like teaching; even prepping for classes makes me happy. This may be a cliche, but I truly believe that teaching benefits teachers as well. Many university lecturers are very resistant to reviewing their students' work, but I actually really enjoy it especially when students have digested what was taught and are able to write about their own unique opinions. Outside of academia, I really enjoy the new trends introduced to me by these young scholars. For example, while I don’t even have Facebook, in order to read homework submitted by a student in the form of an Instagram post, I opened my own Instagram account and thus, I am able to keep a close relationship with my students. In addition, as a member of the LGBT community, when I teach related theory, I can share my personal experiences which resonate with LGBT students in particular. The happiness that stems from teaching is one that is direct; it’s a happiness of mutual accompaniment.

However, academia is lonely in itself as well. I have some old colleagues that are holed up in their offices all day long, only leaving their offices to get water from the pantry, where they are able to publish an academic work every few years. Their careers progress smoothly. I’m not that kind of person though. I’d rather inspire a thousand students instead of publishing a book that languishes in the library with only ten readers a year. Some think that I want to be idolised, but the communication of knowledge is not only about the quality, but also the quantity. I’ve been through this myself. In a conservative Hong Kong that lacks sex/gender education, my primary goal is to educate young people and society about LGBT.

University is an ivory tower where many want to rush in at all cost, but where I’ve always wanted to leave. While at HKU, I’ve often “misappropriated public goods for my own purposes” and have organised “not very academic” popular culture related seminars and panel discussions in the name of academic exchange. It’s normally very difficult to gain approval for these kinds of events and some academics that pride themselves on “conducting serious academic research” would never attend. I once met Joyce Cheng by coincidence and invited her to an HKU event as a guest to share her experiences and thoughts about obesity and body politics. Although there were only 100-200 participants, I received a handwritten thank you card after the event where the participant said they were very happy that there was such a seminar at the university that was primarily held in Cantonese and comparatively down to earth. This gave me affirmation to my long standing fixation that there is meaning to conveying knowledge through a means that caters to the masses.

Right when I thought my teaching career was starting, I discovered that the academic circles in Hong Kong or even the world are almost all about the academic research and their effects on university rankings. The disconnect between the teaching and research meant that no matter how well I taught, it would have no effect on how I would be promoted. Thus, I couldn’t help but felt discouraged and tired of my academic career.

In addition, academia is a circle full of racism in addition to being Americentric. In Hong Kong as well as global academic circles, the American standard is highly regarded. Those coming back to Hong Kong with American degrees are always the most sought after. To make matters worse, those of us with local degrees and lacking overseas experience face great difficulty getting stable or tenure positions.

After leaving the academic circle, I joined a service-learning department at another local university where I organise service opportunities or events for students outside of school in which they could use their knowledge and skills to benefit society and the community.

I’m like a middleman. We go out to connect with different groups, schools, and social welfare organisations and then refer them to university lecturers where the lecturers will design projects for students to complete according to the needs of these organisations. While acting as this go between, I do not have much direct contact with students and therefore the academic exchange with them becomes very indirect. However, I like this as well. The two years prior to my leaving academia, I reached a bottleneck in my queer research so I expanded my research area to the entire marginality discourse where I explored the marginality of different identities and slowly came into contact with disability studies. One of the key words of service-learning is empathy and students are required to have this toward the needy in the community. This is coincidentally what my research was about and that is to bring humanistic care to all levels of society: to people of different sexual orientations, to the elderly, to the disabled, to ethnic minorities, and to the poor. This kind of satisfaction is different from teaching, but it is down to earth.

I often think that marginality is an interesting thing as society is full of all types of marginalised identities: the most simple of which is gender or even age. Each one of us will age so we are all predisposed to marginalisation, but more importantly, we should not be restricted by this, but to use this to feel the suffering of others to become a more compassionate person.

I really like (the pre-scandal) Ellen DeGeneres. Her biggest influence on me is her love and care for the world. Ellen’s mantra is “Be kind to one another.” She strongly believes that the happiness she brings to her audience from the stage can influence the world. This resonates with my belief. To me, each teaching opportunity is a performance.

Every lecture is a performance for me to express my feelings. I held a lowly position at HKU where I didn’t have the freedom to choose which courses to teach. The courses I wanted to teach all had to do with gender or film, but I was always designated to teach introductory courses that weren’t that specialised. Faced with this situation, I would “hijack” these courses and add in texts that I thought were important and interesting especially with examples regarding everyday life and popular culture. This may bring criticism from those that believe academia is sacred and that it is not to be violated, but at every end of term evaluation, I received feedback from students saying that the course was “relatable” (and it just so happens that Ellen’s new book is titled Relatable) and I know that I’ve done the right thing.

A university lectern is my performance stage; the service-learning that I’m currently working in is also my stage. No matter the position, we should not let the boundaries of our occupational roles restrict us. I think this is the most important principle of us marginalised people.

As lyrics of Denise Ho’s song Glamourous say: “Born into troubled times, our duty is to do good.” We will do what we can.

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About “We Are HKers”

We Are HKers is a bilingual platform built by a group of Hong Kong volunteers living in different parts of the world. We aim to share a multi-dimensional perspective of the individual voices of HKers to people around the globe and let them see the attributes and values embraced by HKers.

Visit www.wearehkers.com and follow our social media @hkersweare for inspiring HKers' stories, unique culture and delicious recipes of HK food.

Contributors: Fiona Forrester, Almond Li, Crazy Man, Zucchhi, Wallace, Ida @ We Are HKers

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