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It’s been ten years since Zhan Haite began residing in Shanghai. She considers herself a Shanghai resident who should enjoy the right to attend a local high school； regulations disagree. On June 8， 2012， she launched a Weibo account to begin relating her tales of struggle.
Fifteen-year-old Zhan Haite soon attracted national attention by demanding admission to high school for residents of Beijing and Shanghai regardless of their registered hometowns.
Actually， Zhan wasn’t the first person to question the policy. In mid-2012， the Chinese central government asked local authorities to brainstorm solutions and promulgate measures by the end of 2012.
The Dilemma
The problem is related to Chinese household registration system. Since China resumed its college entrance examination in 1977 after more than a decade of suspension， candidates have had to take the entrance exams in their registered hometowns. However， according to the sixth national population census in 2010， some 220 million Chinese residents live or work outside their hometowns， leading to schooling problems for the next generation， particularly when they must travel back to their hometowns to take entrance exams.
Over the last few years， the local governments have provided two possible resolutions： grant permission to certain non-registered candidates to participate in the exams and accept some as local residents through household re-registration. In 2012， for instance， Shanghai allowed a certain number of non-native candidates to take their national college entrance exams if their parents met any of ten conditions， such as exceptional talent in their field， post-doctoral candidates in institutes of higher learning and research institutions， and “educated youth” – high school graduates who worked in poverty-stricken and border areas in support of the local culture and economy during the “cultural revolution” （1966-1976）.
Zhan Haite’s parents met none of the requirements. Even worse， the fact that she has a brother and a sister makes it even more impossible for her family to register in Shanghai because they violated the onechild policy. According to current regulations， the municipal government grades applicants for household registration on seven factors including educational background， employment status， and income tax returns. For Zhan’s family situation， the current process leaves no hope at all.
Born in 1997 in Zhuhai City， Guangdong Province， Zhan moved to Shanghai with her parents when she was four. She considers Shanghai her hometown since she grew up there. Her parents are natives of Jiangxi Province. She couldn’t imagine living alone to attend school far away from her parents. The Chinese central government asked local authorities to brainstorm solutions and promulgate measures by the end of 2012.
Zhan’s father has visited Shanghai’s relevant department of municipal government but could never make any progress. Last May， Zhan dropped out of school because she couldn’t attend the entrance exam for high school in Shanghai.
She first blamed her predicament on her parent’s incompetence but soon realized from the internet that she was not alone with her sentiments and understood how hard the situation had become for so many.
She chose to stay in Shanghai， mak-ing a stand for equal rights to education. She has also self-taught her high school courses. She is the youngest activist to fight for such rights.
Open or Lock the Door？
“I was born in Zhuhai and thought myself a native of the city，” remarked Zhan Haite. “I didn’t consider myself a resident of Shanghai until middle school. Now， I am told that I’m not a citizen here and I must take the high school entrance exam in my hometown. If I stay in Shanghai， my only option is a vocational high school. I just don’t get it！”
On June 8， 2012， Zhan posted her first message on Weibo， which included a photo of herself holding a sign that asked， “Where is my right to the high school exam？”
On her blog on October 21， she re- quested a debate in front of the office of the Shanghai Education Commission with Beijing and Shanghai citizens who oppose permission for nonresident students to take the college entrance exam. When Zhan and her parents arrived on the morning of the 25th， some Shanghai parents were already waiting， wearing masks printed “NO.”
Zhan became the public face of the issue. Cui， one of her opponents， initiated an offline group， known as League of Shanghai Guardians. “Our abundant educational resources are the result of generations of effort，” asserted Cui. “Therefore， priority should go to local candidates. Meanwhile， we also welcome outsiders who fit certain criteria.”
A recent survey shows that in China， 58 million children are left behind when their parents seek employment elsewhere， and 27 million children travel along with their migrant working parents. Many of them wish to take the entrance exam in their adopted “hometown.” Their appeals have provoked strong objections， especially from residents of major municipalities such as Beijing and Shanghai， making the situation even more complicated for policy makers attempting to satisfy both sides： Is it possible to protect the interests of local candidates while admitting outsiders？ Are schools big enough to accommodate an influx of non-local students？ Who will pay for additional educational resources？ How to regulate the migrant population in relation to the national college entrance exam in prevention of some from taking the advantage of the new policy？
Local governments have been striving to formulate an optimal solution， and the predicament is high on the agenda of Chinese authorities.
Fifteen-year-old Zhan Haite soon attracted national attention by demanding admission to high school for residents of Beijing and Shanghai regardless of their registered hometowns.
Actually， Zhan wasn’t the first person to question the policy. In mid-2012， the Chinese central government asked local authorities to brainstorm solutions and promulgate measures by the end of 2012.
The Dilemma
The problem is related to Chinese household registration system. Since China resumed its college entrance examination in 1977 after more than a decade of suspension， candidates have had to take the entrance exams in their registered hometowns. However， according to the sixth national population census in 2010， some 220 million Chinese residents live or work outside their hometowns， leading to schooling problems for the next generation， particularly when they must travel back to their hometowns to take entrance exams.
Over the last few years， the local governments have provided two possible resolutions： grant permission to certain non-registered candidates to participate in the exams and accept some as local residents through household re-registration. In 2012， for instance， Shanghai allowed a certain number of non-native candidates to take their national college entrance exams if their parents met any of ten conditions， such as exceptional talent in their field， post-doctoral candidates in institutes of higher learning and research institutions， and “educated youth” – high school graduates who worked in poverty-stricken and border areas in support of the local culture and economy during the “cultural revolution” （1966-1976）.
Zhan Haite’s parents met none of the requirements. Even worse， the fact that she has a brother and a sister makes it even more impossible for her family to register in Shanghai because they violated the onechild policy. According to current regulations， the municipal government grades applicants for household registration on seven factors including educational background， employment status， and income tax returns. For Zhan’s family situation， the current process leaves no hope at all.
Born in 1997 in Zhuhai City， Guangdong Province， Zhan moved to Shanghai with her parents when she was four. She considers Shanghai her hometown since she grew up there. Her parents are natives of Jiangxi Province. She couldn’t imagine living alone to attend school far away from her parents. The Chinese central government asked local authorities to brainstorm solutions and promulgate measures by the end of 2012.
Zhan’s father has visited Shanghai’s relevant department of municipal government but could never make any progress. Last May， Zhan dropped out of school because she couldn’t attend the entrance exam for high school in Shanghai.
She first blamed her predicament on her parent’s incompetence but soon realized from the internet that she was not alone with her sentiments and understood how hard the situation had become for so many.
She chose to stay in Shanghai， mak-ing a stand for equal rights to education. She has also self-taught her high school courses. She is the youngest activist to fight for such rights.
Open or Lock the Door？
“I was born in Zhuhai and thought myself a native of the city，” remarked Zhan Haite. “I didn’t consider myself a resident of Shanghai until middle school. Now， I am told that I’m not a citizen here and I must take the high school entrance exam in my hometown. If I stay in Shanghai， my only option is a vocational high school. I just don’t get it！”
On June 8， 2012， Zhan posted her first message on Weibo， which included a photo of herself holding a sign that asked， “Where is my right to the high school exam？”
On her blog on October 21， she re- quested a debate in front of the office of the Shanghai Education Commission with Beijing and Shanghai citizens who oppose permission for nonresident students to take the college entrance exam. When Zhan and her parents arrived on the morning of the 25th， some Shanghai parents were already waiting， wearing masks printed “NO.”
Zhan became the public face of the issue. Cui， one of her opponents， initiated an offline group， known as League of Shanghai Guardians. “Our abundant educational resources are the result of generations of effort，” asserted Cui. “Therefore， priority should go to local candidates. Meanwhile， we also welcome outsiders who fit certain criteria.”
A recent survey shows that in China， 58 million children are left behind when their parents seek employment elsewhere， and 27 million children travel along with their migrant working parents. Many of them wish to take the entrance exam in their adopted “hometown.” Their appeals have provoked strong objections， especially from residents of major municipalities such as Beijing and Shanghai， making the situation even more complicated for policy makers attempting to satisfy both sides： Is it possible to protect the interests of local candidates while admitting outsiders？ Are schools big enough to accommodate an influx of non-local students？ Who will pay for additional educational resources？ How to regulate the migrant population in relation to the national college entrance exam in prevention of some from taking the advantage of the new policy？
Local governments have been striving to formulate an optimal solution， and the predicament is high on the agenda of Chinese authorities.