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Life’s not so simple for the parachute generation
校園欺凌、高调炫富、心理问题，独自赴美求学的“降落伞少年”是坚强的一代，但他们也急需帮助和支持
In January of this year， three students from California’s San Gabriel Valley accepted a plea deal that saw them going to prison for the kidnap and assault of a fellow teenager in 2015， a crime in which the girl was burned with cigarettes and made to eat her own hair. A third charge of torture was dropped by prosecutors. The salacious details alone would have earned the case front page coverage， but what really excited the press were two words： “parachute kids.”
Coined in the 1980s， the term refers to young children and teenagers below 18 years old who move to the US to study alone， while their parents stay in their home countries. Naturally， the thought of children—foreign children， at that—running wild was like catnip to the US press.
But the reality is that parachute children face unique difficulties because of their position， and as a consequence some of them do act out—if not in the numbers to qualify for a full-on moral panic.
Zhou Qian （not her real name）， now an undergraduate design student in New York City， came to the US from Taiwan when she was 16， attending high school first in Texas and then in New York. And while she says most parachute kids she encountered get on with their schooling， she has come across some who went off the rails.
One such kid was a mainland Chinese boy who went on to attend her boyfriend’s university in Philadelphia. “His parents gave him money for living expenses and tuition，” she says. “It was a lot of money. But then he went and spent it on a Maserati， so he had no money for the next semester’s tuition， or even food. He didn’t even buy insurance for the car！ He just wanted to show off and take girls out.”
She continued： “One of my friends from [my New York] high school went to university in Seattle， but she got pregnant while visiting home in China and decided to return and have the baby in America. She felt lonely here， and she couldn’t go back because her parents didn’t want her， so she wanted to build a family.” The baby’s father， also Chinese， wanted nothing to do with the child. Nevertheless， Zhou says， her friend is happier now.
Loneliness is something that Zhou herself experienced when she first moved to the US to attend high school in Texas. With initially weak English skills， a student body that was mostly white and disinterested in her， and few Asian classmates， she found herself alone for most of her time there. And not having friends led to other problems. “It was a Catholic military school，” she says， “so for me it was like a jail. I couldn’t go out without their permission， and there was no way to get anywhere except by car.” “They were terrified international students would get lost，” she added. “So we could only go somewhere if we could get the ‘dorm parents’ to take us. They would only take groups of three or four and because I had no friends， I couldn’t go anywhere.”
Dr. TsongYuying is an assistant professor specializing in Asian-American psychology at California State University and is particularly focused on the parachute kid phenomenon. She says that loneliness is a common theme among the parachute kids that she has interviewed， and one of the primary causes of distress that can lead to negative effects such as depression， seclusion or acting out.
But even if parachute kids do make friends at school， they aren’t always able to be fully open about their situation. Many are in the country effectively undocumented. Others have visas that demand they live with their parents but are in fact living with family friends or even strangers who are paid to give them a bed.
“If that’s the case then there is often pressure not to tell anyone why you’re here，” explains Dr. Tsong. “One of the people I interviewed， he’s Korean， he was told by his parents and guardians he couldn’t say anything， even to other Asians or Koreans. He was also told to walk away from police officers. So he developed a fear of authority.”
“So there was an earthquake， and the police were checking door-to-door to see whether everyone was okay. When he opened the door on police officers， he literally fainted，” Dr. Tsongadded.“If you live with those fears in your daily life， that’s a lot of psychological distress.”
That’s far from the only source of distress for parachute kids， says Dr. Tsong. If their parents aren’t wealthy， the knowledge of how much they are costing them—and how much of a return is expected on that expense—can be upsetting. If their guardians are just in it for the money there can be little emotional support. And， if they didn’t want to come to the US in the first place， tensions are exacerbated.
These kinds of issues are not unique to any one race， of course， but Dr. Tsong believes Asian cultures can bring with them extra complications， such as a heavy focus on academic achievement and a tendency for self-blame stemming from “cultural values like collectivism， achievement focus， humility， and filial piety.”
She stresses that this doesn’t apply to all Asian kids， but says it is very common for them to believe that their teachers， being figures of authority， are infallible， and to consider what their parents sacrificed before they think of their own emotional needs. “There were kids who were very depressed but wouldn’t tell their parents because it had cost so much to send them to the US， but they also couldn’t go back before the end of term because that would be failing their purpose in America，” she explains.
For some Chinese abroad， the development of a strong national identity provides a kind of mental protection. Others form a communal connection wherever they can. And given that parachute kids tend to be isolated from their peers and may be wary of going to the authorities， joining gangs—benign or otherwise—can seem like an attractive prospect.
“It’s not that they’re more prone to joining gangs， but that they don’t have other alternatives because they don’t have a built-in social community，” Dr. Tsong says. “Parents can take you to the Scouts or church…Without people to set up those communities， gangs provide an alternative for emotional support.”
This， along with a lack of parental guidance， insecurity about their self-identity， and a feeling of loss of control， can lead to bullying. Dr. Tsong was insistent that she did not want to speak specifically about the San Gabriel teens， but she did say that in general parachute kids may be more susceptible to becoming bullies than other groups. “Their situation doesn’t make them pathological， but it does mean they’re more vulnerable because they don’t have the same support， from parents or communities.”
And those stories of kids buying Maseratis with their tuition fees？ More of a sign of a clueless privilege than anything else， it would seem. “If you think about overall， not just parachute kids， but kids in general， if you have more social privileges you’re not thinking about hiding. So the kids that are from really well-off families are not too bothered about being found out， because they don’t see the world as a place you will get hurt.”
Dr. Tsong continues： “There are families who are very middle class or not well-off [and those] parents are very careful to teach the kids that they’re doing this for them， and they want them to do well and make sure they don’t get into trouble. Not to say they don’t get into trouble， but there’s more of a sense that they’re used to having to follow the rules and they know the world is not just made for them.”
So what can be done to help parachute kids？ The most important thing， it seems is outreach： breaking through the barrier of silence and letting them know they’re not alone. “This is the same for undocumented kids， whether they’re parachute kids or not，” explains Dr. Tsong. “The interventions aren’t really different， but because so many parachute kids have a fear of telling anyone about their visa status， there’s a huge failure of them getting the support or seeking it out.”
A fear of authority means that schools and police can’t get in on the action—“and you don’t want to mention the term ‘parachute kids’ because they’ll think you want to report them， and stay away”—but churches and community centers provide a neutral space for kids and teens born outside the US to gather.
This， Dr. Tsong urges， is the best way to relieve the distress of a population that can， and frequently does， grow into successful adults. “I want to emphasize that it’s not a troubled population， but one that needs support. When they act out， they’re expressing their distress. These are resilient kids growing up without parents， which is amazing; it’s just that unfortunately a few of them didn’t make the best decisions.”
校園欺凌、高调炫富、心理问题，独自赴美求学的“降落伞少年”是坚强的一代，但他们也急需帮助和支持
In January of this year， three students from California’s San Gabriel Valley accepted a plea deal that saw them going to prison for the kidnap and assault of a fellow teenager in 2015， a crime in which the girl was burned with cigarettes and made to eat her own hair. A third charge of torture was dropped by prosecutors. The salacious details alone would have earned the case front page coverage， but what really excited the press were two words： “parachute kids.”
Coined in the 1980s， the term refers to young children and teenagers below 18 years old who move to the US to study alone， while their parents stay in their home countries. Naturally， the thought of children—foreign children， at that—running wild was like catnip to the US press.
But the reality is that parachute children face unique difficulties because of their position， and as a consequence some of them do act out—if not in the numbers to qualify for a full-on moral panic.
Zhou Qian （not her real name）， now an undergraduate design student in New York City， came to the US from Taiwan when she was 16， attending high school first in Texas and then in New York. And while she says most parachute kids she encountered get on with their schooling， she has come across some who went off the rails.
One such kid was a mainland Chinese boy who went on to attend her boyfriend’s university in Philadelphia. “His parents gave him money for living expenses and tuition，” she says. “It was a lot of money. But then he went and spent it on a Maserati， so he had no money for the next semester’s tuition， or even food. He didn’t even buy insurance for the car！ He just wanted to show off and take girls out.”
She continued： “One of my friends from [my New York] high school went to university in Seattle， but she got pregnant while visiting home in China and decided to return and have the baby in America. She felt lonely here， and she couldn’t go back because her parents didn’t want her， so she wanted to build a family.” The baby’s father， also Chinese， wanted nothing to do with the child. Nevertheless， Zhou says， her friend is happier now.
Loneliness is something that Zhou herself experienced when she first moved to the US to attend high school in Texas. With initially weak English skills， a student body that was mostly white and disinterested in her， and few Asian classmates， she found herself alone for most of her time there. And not having friends led to other problems. “It was a Catholic military school，” she says， “so for me it was like a jail. I couldn’t go out without their permission， and there was no way to get anywhere except by car.” “They were terrified international students would get lost，” she added. “So we could only go somewhere if we could get the ‘dorm parents’ to take us. They would only take groups of three or four and because I had no friends， I couldn’t go anywhere.”
Dr. TsongYuying is an assistant professor specializing in Asian-American psychology at California State University and is particularly focused on the parachute kid phenomenon. She says that loneliness is a common theme among the parachute kids that she has interviewed， and one of the primary causes of distress that can lead to negative effects such as depression， seclusion or acting out.
But even if parachute kids do make friends at school， they aren’t always able to be fully open about their situation. Many are in the country effectively undocumented. Others have visas that demand they live with their parents but are in fact living with family friends or even strangers who are paid to give them a bed.
“If that’s the case then there is often pressure not to tell anyone why you’re here，” explains Dr. Tsong. “One of the people I interviewed， he’s Korean， he was told by his parents and guardians he couldn’t say anything， even to other Asians or Koreans. He was also told to walk away from police officers. So he developed a fear of authority.”
“So there was an earthquake， and the police were checking door-to-door to see whether everyone was okay. When he opened the door on police officers， he literally fainted，” Dr. Tsongadded.“If you live with those fears in your daily life， that’s a lot of psychological distress.”
That’s far from the only source of distress for parachute kids， says Dr. Tsong. If their parents aren’t wealthy， the knowledge of how much they are costing them—and how much of a return is expected on that expense—can be upsetting. If their guardians are just in it for the money there can be little emotional support. And， if they didn’t want to come to the US in the first place， tensions are exacerbated.
These kinds of issues are not unique to any one race， of course， but Dr. Tsong believes Asian cultures can bring with them extra complications， such as a heavy focus on academic achievement and a tendency for self-blame stemming from “cultural values like collectivism， achievement focus， humility， and filial piety.”
She stresses that this doesn’t apply to all Asian kids， but says it is very common for them to believe that their teachers， being figures of authority， are infallible， and to consider what their parents sacrificed before they think of their own emotional needs. “There were kids who were very depressed but wouldn’t tell their parents because it had cost so much to send them to the US， but they also couldn’t go back before the end of term because that would be failing their purpose in America，” she explains.
For some Chinese abroad， the development of a strong national identity provides a kind of mental protection. Others form a communal connection wherever they can. And given that parachute kids tend to be isolated from their peers and may be wary of going to the authorities， joining gangs—benign or otherwise—can seem like an attractive prospect.
“It’s not that they’re more prone to joining gangs， but that they don’t have other alternatives because they don’t have a built-in social community，” Dr. Tsong says. “Parents can take you to the Scouts or church…Without people to set up those communities， gangs provide an alternative for emotional support.”
This， along with a lack of parental guidance， insecurity about their self-identity， and a feeling of loss of control， can lead to bullying. Dr. Tsong was insistent that she did not want to speak specifically about the San Gabriel teens， but she did say that in general parachute kids may be more susceptible to becoming bullies than other groups. “Their situation doesn’t make them pathological， but it does mean they’re more vulnerable because they don’t have the same support， from parents or communities.”
And those stories of kids buying Maseratis with their tuition fees？ More of a sign of a clueless privilege than anything else， it would seem. “If you think about overall， not just parachute kids， but kids in general， if you have more social privileges you’re not thinking about hiding. So the kids that are from really well-off families are not too bothered about being found out， because they don’t see the world as a place you will get hurt.”
Dr. Tsong continues： “There are families who are very middle class or not well-off [and those] parents are very careful to teach the kids that they’re doing this for them， and they want them to do well and make sure they don’t get into trouble. Not to say they don’t get into trouble， but there’s more of a sense that they’re used to having to follow the rules and they know the world is not just made for them.”
So what can be done to help parachute kids？ The most important thing， it seems is outreach： breaking through the barrier of silence and letting them know they’re not alone. “This is the same for undocumented kids， whether they’re parachute kids or not，” explains Dr. Tsong. “The interventions aren’t really different， but because so many parachute kids have a fear of telling anyone about their visa status， there’s a huge failure of them getting the support or seeking it out.”
A fear of authority means that schools and police can’t get in on the action—“and you don’t want to mention the term ‘parachute kids’ because they’ll think you want to report them， and stay away”—but churches and community centers provide a neutral space for kids and teens born outside the US to gather.
This， Dr. Tsong urges， is the best way to relieve the distress of a population that can， and frequently does， grow into successful adults. “I want to emphasize that it’s not a troubled population， but one that needs support. When they act out， they’re expressing their distress. These are resilient kids growing up without parents， which is amazing; it’s just that unfortunately a few of them didn’t make the best decisions.”