在一家gay bar随机找人聊天的时候我看到小比了,那时候我没想到这会是我见过的最最酷的学者之一。
2018年,他生活很自由很自在。他住在城市工业区,白天忙着读博,偶尔在一个劳工公益组织做志愿者。吃完晚饭大概夜里七八点,便出发去“渔场”,在那里呆到深夜十二点。他跟我说有一回他带了好朋友一起去,结果不到十分钟,他朋友害怕得想逃,他说这里的人怎么这样?大庭广众之下?这些地方不应该早就消失了吗,但是小比觉得这里很好,完全是一个‘大型露天吧’,也是他写关于南方工业区中的农民工男同志的博士毕业论文的地方。
他的朋友问他“你怎么会把这些当做博士论文?这里的人都没怎么读过书的!”他朋友对他的论文和这里的农民工的态度完全是蔑视、责问与不解。不过小比并没太在意,他跟我说学人文的不用太在意不了解自己领域的人的看法。他的博士论文动笔得很早,远远早于他的朋友质问他为什么写这篇文章之前。
他在香港读的硕士,他的有长达两年被看不见的“茧”围困,不知该做什么。他尝试过自媒体、编辑,内心偏想探究底层打工人的生活。不过很专注地做这件事,需要经费支持,而且要几年稳定的时间,这也是为什么他想到申请博士。他觉得可以拿学校的资源,而且还有老师指导以及奖学金支持他继续学下去。他的老师也一直在内地做这方面的研究,所以超级合拍。
做自媒体时,他总感觉在重复相同的东西,“好像今天的同志运动主流,非常中产。工人阶级很大程度上是‘不可见’的。”无论大学社团活动,还是城市同志社群,都难以看到他们。“但按中国人口比例,这部分群体恰恰是占大多数的。”
他说他的研究其实没那么顺利,先是在软件上打听,出发后却进了“迷宫”。“明明说就在这里”,走了好多次,找不到。在这个城市,他和那些打工者一样:人生地不熟,没有人带他。一般都是老人带新人,很多人看着像健身房的直男,但只有说话了才‘姐妹相认’。
他说国内现在太缺乏酷儿性工作者这方面的研究了,我说等我再来深圳再找到你的时候我会回来看你的毕业论文的。他说好,到时候我们还一起聊人生。
English Translated Version:
While chatting with random people at a gay bar, I spotted Xiao Bi. At that moment, I had no idea that he would turn out to be one of the coolest scholars I’ve ever met.
In 2018, he lived a very free and easy life. He resided in the city’s industrial area, busy with his doctoral studies during the day and occasionally volunteering for a labor rights organization. After dinner, around seven or eight at night, he would head to the "fishery," where he stayed until around midnight. He told me that one time he brought a good friend along, and within ten minutes, his friend was so scared that he wanted to leave. He exclaimed, "What’s wrong with these people? In public? Shouldn’t these places have disappeared by now?" But Xiao Bi felt that it was great—completely like a "large open-air bar," and it was also where he was writing his doctoral thesis about migrant worker gay men in the southern industrial regions.
His friend asked him, "How can you consider this as your doctoral thesis? Most of these people haven't even been educated!" His friend’s attitude toward his thesis and the migrant workers here was one of contempt, questioning, and confusion. However, Xiao Bi didn’t pay much attention to it. He told me that scholars in the humanities shouldn’t worry too much about the opinions of people who don’t understand their field. He had started working on his thesis long before his friend questioned why he was writing it.
He completed his master’s degree in Hong Kong, where he felt trapped in an invisible "cocoon" for two years, unsure of what to do. He had tried self-media and editing but was internally inclined to explore the lives of working-class people. However, focusing on this required financial support and several years of stability, which is why he thought about applying for a PhD. He felt he could use the school’s resources, and with teacher guidance and scholarships, he could continue his studies. His advisor had also been conducting research in this area on the mainland, so they were a great match.
During his time in self-media, he felt like he was repeating the same things. "It seems that today’s mainstream gay movement is very middle class. The working class is largely 'invisible.'" Whether in university clubs or urban gay communities, it was difficult to see them. "But according to China’s population ratio, this group actually constitutes the majority."
He mentioned that his research hadn’t gone smoothly. Initially, he gathered information through software, but once he set out, he ended up in a "maze." "It clearly says it’s right here," but after several attempts, he still couldn’t find it. In this city, he was just like those workers: unfamiliar with the area, with no one to guide him. Typically, it’s older people who lead newcomers. Many who looked like straight men in a gym only became "sisters" once they started talking.
He said that there’s a significant lack of research on queer sex workers in the country right now. I told him that when I come back to Shenzhen, I’ll look for him and check out his thesis. He agreed, saying that when the time comes, we can chat about life together.