Her petite build, quiet, cheerful demeanor and frequent periodic laughter offer little hint that Chi-Ching Shih, a 48-year-old divorced Taiwanese mother, has designated herself as the person to change 5,000 years of male-dominated history.
Seated comfortably in the light-filled Chicago kitchen of Juju Lien, a childhood friend and now U.S. citizen, with Chen Yeh, a Taiwanese colleague and author, at her side, Shih relates her history and why she decided to try to become her country’s first female presidential candidate.
She visited the United States during her vacation from teaching high school literature in an effort to drum up support from the American-Taiwanese community and feminist leaders before Taiwan’s first direct-vote election March 22. The country’s Congress historically has cast the ballots.
The odds against Shih’s becoming an independent candidate, let alone winning, are remote, explains Lien, translating. Although Shih is fluent in English, she is more comfortable having someone else convey her views during a two-hour interview, except when she wants to stress a point.
Since Chiang Kai-shek relocated his Republic of China to Taiwan in 1949, the country has been led by men, who still dominate the three parties–the ruling KMT, the DPP and the New Party. To change the election rules, which technically exclude female candidates, Shih and other women challenged the country’s Supreme Court. When that court did not respond, she declared her candidacy.
But unlike the United States, where a simple announcement would be sufficient to get a platform disseminated, in Taiwan she first must raise $600,000. If she does not receive 5 percent of the vote, she forfeits the money.
She also must have 210,000 of the country’s voters sign a petition. Getting the signatures isn’t a matter of Shih’s going door-to-door. Voters must present their IDs and sign their names at a government office within 45 days of the election. Doing so presents the risk of harassment and loss of privacy.
While many young Taiwanese women support Shih’s views, most older, tradition-bound women and men older than 40 are opposed.
“They think she’s gone mad or that she could be helped if she would find a good husband,” Lien says, with Shih smiling at the thought that such an antiquated notion would still prevail.
Despite her dismal chances, Shih decided the time was ripe. More important than a political victory, she says, is turning the feminist viewpoint into a national debate on human rights.
There are several reasons Shih believes her timing is opportune.
“Young Taiwanese women are among the most educated in the world. Many no longer are content with marrying and becoming house slaves or unliberated houseladies.”
Working women find it hard to secure affordable and competent care for the children they have, she says. If their marriages fail and they divorce, they jeopardize their jobs and financial security because their husbands are awarded rights to all property, including assets the wife brought to the marriage. Taiwan does not grant alimony.
Divorced women also risk their emotional well-being: They lose custody of their children, or at least any male heirs who inherit the family name, which the Taiwanese view as important to pass on.
“The daughters are negotiable,” Shih says.
At the same time, if women do not divorce and remain in an unhappy marriage, their self-esteem still may plummet. According to Shih, Taiwanese men have frequent affairs and beat their wives, yet make them believe it is their fault for such behavior because the women haven’t kept the men happy or the homes neat. Sadly, many women don’t have the confidence to disagree.
Equally hard, Shih says, is that divorced women are viewed as outcasts by society and by their families, who exclude them from family get-togethers such as the important New Year’s gathering.
“Any divorced daughter is told not to come back New Year’s Eve or the first day of New Year’s. She can only come back the third day.”
Such lessons Shih learned firsthand, says Lien, who moved to the U.S. in 1970 and married an American (Tribune reporter Bob Cross).
The women, who were born in mainland China and moved as young children to Taiwan, met when they were 7 at a girls’ orphanage run by Southern Baptist missionaries. Both had mothers who felt ill-equipped to care for them. Shih’s army-general father wasn’t able to join his family.
After college, Shih slipped into the typical Taiwanese wife’s submissive role. She married a diplomat and taught until she had the first of their two sons in 1973. She stayed home to be the perfect wife for the perfect male-chauvinist husband, she says, adding, “I thought I was living it up.”
The couple lived in Kansas City, Mo., and in Houston, where her former husband was posted from 1974 to 1978. She also followed the custom of tolerating a husband’s affairs and his verbal abuse.
The turning point came, however, when the husband of her sister, Joan, asked for a divorce in 1978. Joan refused, knowing what she would give up. Angered by her refusal, her husband beat her. One obstacle after another ensued as she sought legal protection.
The first judge told her she needed to go to a different court. A judge at that court said she needed medical proof from one of two hospitals that her husband had beaten her. She went to one of the hospitals, where the doctor told her, “If all the women who were beaten came to me, I wouldn’t have time to do my job and treat sick people.”
Because of the country’s laws, eventually her husband was given a divorce. (She eventually moved to Minneapolis and became a U.S. citizen.)
During her sister’s ordeal, Shih realized that she wasn’t at fault in her own unhappy marriage and didn’t have to accept her “bad luck,” as some described her situation.
She was divorced in 1984 at age 36 and lost custody of her sons, then 11 and 8. Fortunately, her sister and brother never shunned her but concurred with her decision.
Shih became financially independent by translating into Chinese from English many of the feminist books that were being published, such as Betty Friedan’s “The Feminine Mystique.”
She also returned to teaching literature at a prestigious boys’ high school in Taipei and began writing the first of many books.
“Passing Through the Marriage,” published in 1989, was considered controversial for its personal revelations about her divorce and the country’s unfair treatment of women.
About then she began her fight for change, focusing on trying to eliminate child prostitution, an organized lucrative business in Taiwan.
“It’s thriving, part of the whole industry of entertaining males,” Shih says. “Many of the girls have short lives. They become prostitutes at 13 and die from drugs and VD by 35.”
To aid her cause, she helped found several groups. The Warm Life Association for Women, formed in 1984, became the first non-profit organization providing counseling and support for divorced women. The group’s name comes from a Tang Dynasty poem that celebrates life’s middle years, the time when women often seek a divorce or are asked for one. Her Awakening Foundation became the country’s first progressive women’s research and publication foundation.
Most important, she says, was the decision to have lawyers rewrite the country’s outdated 1931 Family Law and start a grass-roots movement to have the Legislature pass the revisions. Again, chances are slim.
“Only 20 of the 160 or so members are women, and many don’t support feminism.”
She also wants to enact changes that would help both sexes.
“We have no public day care and few social services to help senior citizens. There are horrendous environmental conditions because of the crowding, the lack of recyling, the pollution and land abuse. The traffic is worse than Mexico City.”
In addition to teaching and writing books, she writes a newspaper column, is heard on the radio and gives speeches. She could not attend the United Nations 4th World Conference on Women in Beijing in September because China does not recognize Taiwan.
In spite of her arduous, still-uphill battle, Shih says she is optimistic about the eventual success of the women’s movement in the United States and Taiwan.
“Be confident,” she urges. “Things are changing. Historically, it happens that you go backward and forward. We hope your country will have a female president within 10 years, since Asian countries model themselves after the American style.”
She also sees hope in the next generation of Taiwanese men, based in part on her sons. Now 19 and 23, they came to live with her five years ago, though both currently live in the U.S.
“My former husband told me, `The situation no longer fits well with my new family.’ “
Both sons date and want to marry feminists, she says. Her big smile and twinkling brown eyes are proof enough of her delight, requiring no translation.
