In China as elsewhere, a grassroots movement hasn't arrived until it can claim a t-shirt or two. The explosion of volunteerism and pride after the tragic Sichuan earthquake has triggered a wave of t-shirts. Jennifer Conrad, who works in Beijing, explains:

There's been quite a bit of coverage of Chinese nationalism lately, with the counter-protests against pro-Tibetan protesters, calls for boycotts of the French supermarket Carrefour, and the latest, angry words lobbed at actress Sharon Stone, who said—and then apologized for saying—that the Sichuan earthquake was the result of bad karma.

            National pride—which, by the way, runs deep in almost every Chinese person I've met—is being expressed in a lot of ways, such as Chinese-flag bumper stickers and instant-messaging icons. But I think it's most interesting to look at the T-shirts that young people are wearing.

            In early May, I went to Xi'an over a holiday weekend to see the famous Terra Cotta Warriors. As I elbowed my way toward one of the pits, I spotted a guy—probably a teenager—wearing a shirt that read "Tibet in China, Torch in Heart." (According to the media blog Danwei, T-shirts with this message were given out in Beijing's university district Wudaokou and mailed to overseas Chinese students a couple of weeks prior.

            At that point, the Chinese people that I know -- friends, coworkers, teachers at my Chinese school -- did seem truly hurt and surprised by the level of criticism China was facing during its big moment in the global spotlight.

            And then, on May 12, the Sichuan earthquake struck with such force you could feel it in Beijing. Since then, the T-shirts have taken on a softer tone as everyone rallies around the quake victims and follows news of the relief effort. At work the week after the quake, two of my Chinese coworkers came back from lunch proudly sporting matching white tees with green hearts on the front. The shirts, they explained, were for earthquake relief: when you bought a magazine
and made a donation, you received the shirt.

            I went to a benefit at the rock club D22 about a week and a half after the quake. (D22 is sometimes called the CBGB of Beijing and, for those of you who are wondering, they do play the New York Dolls and the Stooges, but the bathrooms are far too clean to match the legendary—and now shuttered—New York City club.)  A few feet in front of me, a guy wore a T-shirt with 14:28 on the back, the time that the earthquake struck.

            I see shirts reading "I [Heart] China", with the Chinese flag in the form of a heart, all over town—I must've spotted a dozen when I walked around Tiananmen Square and the entrance to the Forbidden City yesterday.

            In China, T-shirts aren't quite the teenager and college student uniform that they are in the U.S. You don't see as many young people wearing shirts for their universities and favorite bands. (If anything, you'll see shirts with Western logos or questionable English. My American coworkers and I got a kick out of it when one of our Chinese coworkers showed up to work in a tee with bottles of the notoriously cheap beer Olde English on it.) But T-shirts are catching on here, and they're providing a fast and cheap way for young people to broadcast their politics and national pride.