From Empty Ledgers to Full Hearts (Afterword: Q&A)

May 31st, 2025:

Ms. Li (Auntie Li), second from the right, leading assistive device applicants to their assigned evaluators

Note: Language referencing gender identities, disabilities and disorders, and social work may be outdated or fail to reflect the complexities of individuals mentioned. Gender/sex categories, disability categories, and disorder types reflect those used by the interviewee.

Q: Could you walk me through your typical morning here at the Service Center?

A: I step through that front door at 8:30 a.m., and the lobby would still be hushed. There’d be the hum of air con echoing in this empty hall. I set my tote bag on the chair beside me, take out the roster, flip to today’s appointments, and scan the chart. Each entry lists the name, disability level (from I to IV, I being the most serious), disability category, and the assigned specialist. I also take out a stack of standardized questionnaires developed and used by a mental disability evaluator here. It essentially speeds up the process of evaluation by asking parents to self-report their children’s behaviors, many of which can’t be measured directly in the evaluation room in a short period of time. I check my phone for updates in appointments—I usually print rosters out once per week, so I’ll have to stay tuned to whether someone cancels or adds an appointment. All that settled, I’d sit down and wait for visitors. If I’m calm and organized, it makes greeting visitors easier.

Q: You mentioned you can see someone’s life story upon scanning roster entries. Could you share a story that really stayed with you?

A: There’re quite a few. I tend to recall those we weren’t able to help because of stringent eligibility rules. I’m a social worker; it’s my job to follow the rules. But I still feel somewhat resigned. On the other hand, there’re also ones who’re very nice to, very grateful for us. It’s true that they’re thanking me for merely doing what my job demands, but I still feel joy and accomplishment regardless. There was this young, virtually blind woman who came from an electric wheelchair. Her balance was disoriented, but she walked on her own even though we have a full-time worker whose job is to guide blind visitors. I intuited that she didn’t want to be treated as blind. So I didn’t hold her arm or elbow to guide her. I used a more subtle method: I talked with her nonstop about assistive device applications as we walked toward her evaluation room, which gave her a better sense of direction because her sound localization wasn't impaired. I noticed that she appeared a lot more confident and comfortable. Working at the Center, everyone comes to realize that however disabled they might be, the visitors want dignity.

Q: You contrasted moments of gratitude and of anger. How do you manage these rather intense emotions day after day?

A: I see myself as quite calm and patient, haha. Managing the emotions of others is the hard part. There was this middle-aged man who stormed in and flinged his cane against the pillar. He looked around for workers and yelled at us, complaining that the center was ‘in the middle of nowhere’ and thus ‘worthless,’ and that he transferred three subway lines to get here. Some start making utterly unreasonable demands as soon as they arrive: ‘I must go first. You can’t stop me from cutting the line.’ Well, everyone’s here for a reason. All the other visitors have their own difficulties as well, but they didn’t see it as justification for cutting the line. What’s more awkward is that I can’t say ‘no.’ I’m trained to avoid conflicts and confrontation. Some of the disabled visitors see themselves as disadvantaged, and see the Disability Center as a ‘home’ they own, as if the world orbits around them here. If they try cutting the line at an amusement park or bus station, they’re just outright ignored or denied—invisible. But here at the Center, they see their disability certificate as a sign of privilege that demands everyone to serve them and prioritize them. But the fact of the matter is, we prioritize all disabled persons who visit.

Q: While avoiding confrontation, how do you manage their anger?

A: I’m more of a problem-oriented person as opposed to an emotion-oriented one. Some visitors have a mental breakdown when they come to my desk. Before I even asked, they noticed they forgot to bring their Disability Identity Cards. They explode, bursting into tears. I tell them: ‘it’s ok, search slowly, no panic, we’ll figure out a solution.’ Chances are, showing the ID card alone is enough because the Disability Card is already checked at the earlier stage of making the appointment. There’re other cases where win-win solutions are nonexistent, though. Some come at the wrong time. Say, they reserved an evaluation time slot yesterday but came today. Well, they’ll have to go back and make another appointment. The Service Center pays experts working at hospitals to be visiting evaluators here. Many come for a single day every few weeks. If the expert on their field was here yesterday but not today, there’s no way for us to get the visitor an evaluation. You can’t ask the expert to come for you exclusively, right? The expert has their own job at the hospital, so there’s a time issue. On top of that, the Center can’t afford to hire the expert for another day. We spend the taxpayers’ money and report to the government. How do we explain the additional cost just for serving a single person? Some visitors are really stubborn. They won’t leave until they get the subsidy. We just leave them alone in that case. That’s the thing about being social workers: sometimes, there’s no solution out there.

Q: Being a social worker, as you described, must be very different from studying food science or working in foreign trade. What made you redirect your career toward social work?

A: I made up my mind over the last trade war. During 2018, trade volume dropped. You know, container ships sat idle, factories cut headcount, some of my colleagues scrambled for severance. That was a period in my life marked by an uncertain emptiness, if you will. Life was steadily slowing down, I couldn't do much about it, but I also knew that I can’t just let it be—someday, my wallet will be empty. Then in that increasing spare time, I started doing volunteer work with my colleagues. It was a different sort of work: slow as well, but colorful and fulfilling. I remember at a Longgang orphanage, a child clutched my hand and asked if I’ll read to her tomorrow? She called me ‘big sister,’ and she was so cute. There’s some overlap between volunteer work and social work. I thought I might as well switch to a stable job. So I self-studied and passed the social work exam, and got the most basic certificate, called Junior Social Worker certificate. I didn’t study social work at university, so I’ll have to accumulate six years of social work experience before I’m eligible for the next level: Social Worker.

Q: How did your parents and friends react when you shifted careers so dramatically?

A: You’re young and you grew up in Shenzhen, so you might be more entrepreneurial. But most Chinese people, especially those of my generation, prize the concept of stability. Social work is a stable job: we’re employed and paid by the government. The Center and almost everything in it is owned by the government. It’s definitely not as well-paying as foreign trade in the good times. But with trade wars and rising unemployment, social work is a solid choice. A lot of my colleagues shifted careers: some became delivery(wo)men, fitness trainers, all sorts of jobs. Some tried out a few jobs and returned to foreign trade when Biden came along and the industry recovered slightly. My trajectory isn’t all that special.

Q: You said the government funds this Center and its operations, but the budget is tight. Could you share how you navigate that constraint?

A: It’s more of a rulemaking thing. I have no say in that: social workers are just employees, and I follow the rules, giving advice on the rare occasion that we’re consulted. The constriant is set in the system. For example, someone with one-eyed blindness is not eligible for assistive device subsidy unless their other eye is functionally blind—visual acuity less than 0.3. Similar things with one-ear deafness. But if you think about it, both eyes are needed for depth perception, and both ears are needed for sound localization. One might struggle to even walk in a straight line with visual deficits like that. So I just encourage them to purchase privately and consult their community center to see if reimbursements are available. The visitors get fairly disappointed, and they have good reasons to be. I share their resignation.

Q: Going forward, what improvements would you like to see in policy or practice at the Center?

A: For disabled people, obviously, expanded subsidy coverage has always been key. But there’re many different ways this can be achieved, the most inefficient and costly method being granting everyone reimbursements. I support developing a tiered subsidy system that allows more flexibility and nuance than the current four-level model. This system could, for instance, recognize having one blind eye or one deaf ear as disabilities. Also, online evaluation could potentially be expanded. Why force someone to travel kilometers to apply for a wheelchair? Most wheelchair applicants can’t even walk. That’s in terms of assistive device evaluation. More generally, the government can formalize China’s trust system to protect the properties of disabled people. From the Center’s legal counselling office, I’ve heard many stories of disabled men marrying their caregivers, who then acquire and sell the former’s properties through divorce or inheritance. Many disabled individuals became penniless in this way. China does have a trust law, but people don’t really trust private trusts. Perhaps they [the government] can find a way to promote the use of trusts.

Q: You shared a few instances of frustration, but also of warm moments of triumph. Looking back, could you share some heartwarming memories?

A: There was this young man who secured an electric wheelcare reimbursement here. By the way, the Center used to buy all sorts of assistive devices and hand them out to those who qualify, but a few years ago (during the Pandemic), we changed our approach to handing out reimbursements. Once you’ve got the approval, you buy the device however you want, and we provide reimbursement with an upper limit on price. The reimbursement money is transferred to bank accounts, saving the need for another visit to this Center. But the young man paid a special visit anyway after receiving the money, just to thank us. He came in ‘rocking’ his electric wheelchair with so much joy and pride, and it cheered everyone up.

Q: How did the Covid-19 pandemic affect your work at the Center?

A: I just started work here around the time it was getting really serious. As a whole, Shenzhen was fine, though at the community level, there were quite a lot of stringent lockdown policies. But none like Shanghai’s, where the city was shut down in its entirety. There were a lot of hassles from day to day: assessments moved online, then offline, then online, and everyone was confused. Covid testing was required monthly, daily, and then every half a day. Many disabled people, especially the older, tech-illiterate ones, already have difficulty using smartphones. Lockdown policies meant they couldn't obtain help from their community disability assistant. I’ve heard stories of disabled individuals dying because their caregivers were quarantined. Me being the receptionist, I have very little to complain about. My job gets easier when there’re less visitors. But as a whole, the Center wasn’t functioning well. Some of my friends and colleagues were quite depressed, in the mental health sense.

Q: Talking of mental health, you mentioned consulting your psychologist friend. Could you tell me more about his advice?

A: He told my colleagues and I that we’re like a sponge that soaks up the emotions of others, gradually swells up, gets weaker, and risks tearing itself. He suggested some breathing exercises, meditation, and jogging. I now jog a few kilometers along Shenzhen Bay each weekend. The salty fresh air is refreshing.

Q: You’ve built these coping mechanisms over years of practice. What advice would you give to a new social worker?

A: Nothing profound. I’d say, be patient and moderately empathetic. You have to empathize with a sad story without crying, but also listen to an argument without rebutting. That leads to my second point: you’re here as a volunteer, but social workers like me do this for a living. Social work is a job, so keep professional.

Q: Is there anything else you’d like readers to understand about social work or disabled individuals at Shenzhen?

A: I’m guessing most Shenzhenese don’t quite understand social work or disability. Compared to Japan, for example, we don’t see disabled individuals in public spaces as often. I just want to say that disabled people also live their lives here as others do, and that this network of welfare and support for disabled people exists in Shenzhen.