"I win!" shouted over-excited Yi Benyao, after he got the news from local media that from now on, schools that house migrant labourers' children, whether officially certificated or not, are legal.

Yi, one of the earliest migrants coming to Beijing to build a school for children of migrant farmer labourers, says the victory came from the efforts made by media and social support, neglecting to mention what he has done in the past 10 years appealing for the legal rights of these schools and the children of 'floating labourers'.

"This is one of three goals I aim to achieve in my life," Yi said. "The others are to build stable, well-equipped schools for these children and offer vocational and technical education after these children complete their 9-year compulsory education program."

Busy relocation trip

Leaving Henan Province, central China, in 1994 for Beijing, Yi rented a shabby house for his first classroom to teach the children of migrant labourers. He cannot remember how many times he had to move his school from one place to the next, but cannot forget how he had to shift his school twice in two weeks in 1997.

In April of that year, Yi's school had expanded to six shacks, teaching 270 migrant children. On April 28, Yi's sheds were branded illegal and local police demanded that he close down immediately.

On May 6, Yi found some shanties by an old coal site in Wukesong, in west Beijing. Ten days later, the police came by again and placed an order that he, his teachers, and hundreds of students must leave within one week. If contravened, all Yi's property would be regarded as illegal and confiscated, and all teaching staff would be taken away.

With no other premises available, Yi had to close his school in late June 1997, but promised that his school would reopen, somewhere in Beijing, by September 1.

Finally, Yi found a place in Wuluju, near West Fourth Ring Road, where Yi and his students stayed until March 2004.

In the two months that followed, Yi repeatedly floated his school around Beijing, from Wuluju, to Zizhuyuan, to rest in Gongcun Village.

"I am afraid of relocating now," Yi said. "I have thousands of students. When they look at me and ask where they will stay next, I feel very sad."

Poor facilities

Yi also worries over the poor equipment in his school shacks.

"I was very grateful when I was offered a place to put the school. I did not consider the safety too much, but it is repairable," Yi said.

His schools have happily accepted social donations from both Chinese and foreign people living in Beijing. The local government of Haidian has also sent 100,000 yuan (US$12,048) worth of computers, TVs, and other teaching facilities to his schools. Yi's other channel of fund raising is from student tuition fees, where primary school students pay 300 (US$36) and middle school student 600 yuan (US$72) each term.

But these do not solve Yi's financial problems. Teachers' salaries average 700 yuan (US$84) each month.

Both teaching staff and students endure the cold winter without heating and the high temperatures of summer without any cooling.

There are also no sports facilities. Exercise classes are reduced to students running around an unpaved flat area for 25 minutes. Some 'clever' students pick up half a brick to use as a bat for table tennis.

Concern for the future

Experts estimate that there are about 200,000 children of migrant workers living in Beijing today.

Some of these youngsters go to public schools and officially certificated private schools. Others have dropped out of school altogether. Most choose to attend schools for the children of rural migrant workers.

Beijing's public facilities cannot shoulder the burden of the huge population.

"These children are different from their parents, who mostly resigned themselves to the fate of a poor farmer," Yi said. "This colorful metropolis offers them a totally different world. They do not want to return to their countryside hometown after graduating from middle school."

Beijing regulations state that the children of people without permanent residency here cannot attend college examinations in the city.

Yi's schools, and many other schools for migrant children, can, so far, only offer a 9-year school education so far. For a high-school education, they must return to their hometown or pay high fees to enter a Beijing-based school.

Many students will lose their chance for continued schooling after the nine years is over.

"What they will discover is the social discrimination against them." Yi said. "They are different from their parents, they don't want to bow to their fate."

Yi presumes that a large number of lower-educated youngsters staying in Beijing will lead to increased social instability.

"I do my best to offer a basic education to these children, even in primary school, so they can find a job in Beijing in the future."

"And that is my next goal!" Yi exclaimed.

(China Daily November 5, 2004)

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