Taiwan Today

"A sense of school pride comes from wearing uniforms. They give an appearance of neatness and order. If all students wear uniforms, children from rich families won't be able to show off, and poorer children won't feel embarrassed by their clothes. With uniforms, there's no need to waste time planning a wardrobe. Besides, on a field trip it's easier to find the rest of the group."

"But the trend today is toward social diversity. Young people are learning to take responsibility for their own affairs and to express their individuality. Letting them choose their own clothes for school will help teach them independence and good taste. There is no longer a big difference between rich and poor; the overall standard of living has gone up. And isn't it a drab sight when everybody wears the same thing?"

A school board meeting? A PTA conference? No, this is an exchange between two teams of sixth graders flexing their forensic skills on the new children's television program, "Let's Be Reasonable". The program, launched by Chinese Television System (CTS) in May 1990, is one of many recent attempts to improve the quality of children's television. The program's name is based on the Chinese idiom li-shang wang-lai, which means "courtesy begets courtesy." But the character for "courtesy," li, has been changed to the homophonic li, meaning "reason," to stress the need for a rational approach in dealing with others when courtesy runs dry.

The immediate inspiration behind this unconventional show, according to Alex Wu, director of television production at Heavenly Melody Video, is the unruly lack of "reason" that has been displayed by political parties in the past year, especially in the ROC Legislative Yuan. Children have been exposed to television and print news clips of a rough-and-tumble form of lawmaking, with legislators often resorting to fist fights to support their points of view. Concerned adults are beginning to wonder what children think about these images of government in action. To help kids learn a different approach to argument, using brains rather than fisticuffs, Wu thought that a debate format in a children's program might teach tomorrow's leaders a more productive means of reaching conclusions.

"Let's Be Reasonable," broadcast at 6:00 P.M. every Tuesday, features two teams of children, each from different schools, presenting their opposing views and defending them following the standard rules of debate. Eleven and twelve­-year-old children make up the show's target audience. The program begins with introductory scenes taken on the campuses of the competing elementary schools, an idea that has drawn excited support from students pleased to see their school on TV. Next, quick but lively clips illustrating the pros and cons of the day's debate topic are shown to the teams and program viewers. In the debate on uniforms, for example, one clip features a girl trying to decide what to wear to school. She sifts through several dresses, each time shaking her head and throwing the dress aside.

Finally, the debate begins. But it is clear from the children's quick reaction and memorized eloquence that they have been thoroughly rehearsed before the show was taped. Nevertheless, it is no easy task for a child to pull it all off in front of lights, cameras, and demanding judges, who include teachers and legislators (not so coincidentally). As host Kou Shao-en explains, the coaching is necessary because the children are not expected to be instant experts at something they have hardly been exposed to prior to the debate.

The teams stand facing each other, separated by the moderator, on a bright and colorful set. The show teaches kids to play by the rules. Once the buzzer sounds, the debater must stop, even if in mid-sentence. Wu says that through the program the producers hope to turn some tables. "We hope that children will be able to remind adults of the importance of respecting rules and laws," he says.

"Let's Be Reasonable" replaced another excellent show, which Wu and his team also produced, called "My Future is Not a Dream." Although the lively, fast-paced program presented a wealth of information on a variety of subjects from how sugar is harvested and processed to the problems of mentally handicapped children, the station cancelled the show. Such cancellations are common enough to indicate a general trend in children's TV in Taiwan—regardless of ratings, TV stations frequently change children's shows to make room for something new.

Kou had been disappointed to learn that "My Future" would be discontinued because his production company had invested a great deal of time and creative effort in the program. But now, he says, "other shows are offering similar content and format. That's OK, as long as someone is doing it. What children need is variety, and maybe this is one way to do it."

Short-lived children's programming has had two side effects. First, there are few programs like "Captain Kangaroo" or "Sesame Street" that kids can grow up with and watch with fond memories when they are older. Second, since most shows are cancelled after a season or two, there often is not enough time for a good program to establish its name with kids. After doing a survey of forty-seven third graders and forty-two fifth graders in Taipei, this writer discovered that a large number of the children had neither heard of nor seen some of Taiwan's best designed—and fun—educational programs.

Children's programs account for about 9 percent of all TV time, and most are educational. The idea that art and entertainment for children (and adults) should be didactic in nature predates Confucius. Most traditional Chinese folk tales puppet shows, and children's songs, aim to teach youngsters to differentiate between good and evil and, of course, to choose the former. In line with tradition Government Information Office (GIO) guidelines stipulate that children's programs should be "beneficial to the spiritual and physical health of children." The tendency to put a moral in every story is generally viewed as a positive attribute, although many parents might agree with the one young Chinese mother who recalls how much she liked Mickey Mouse because "he never tries to teach you anything."

Some of the credit for today's rich line-up of stimulating and innovative children's programs must go to Chang Ping of the GIO's Department of Radio and Television Affairs. When it came to his attention about a decade ago that cartoons were the only TV programs that kids could call their own, he pushed through a new regulation requiring each television station to produce their own children's programs and air at least one children's program two days a week. The regulation is still in effect, and it has inspired several idealistic and dedicated producers to produce children's shows that are both entertaining and intellectually stimulating.

One such program is "Children's Science World," a programming rarity in that it has been on the air for ten years. It is one of the island's most highly regarded children's shows. Like "Let's Be Reasonable," the program is directed toward children who are in third grade and above. While foreign­-made series on the natural world are frequently aired on Taiwan TV, they never focus on wildlife native to Taiwan. To correct the situation, Min Sheng Pao, one of the few newspapers with a daily children's section, decided to move beyond the printed medium and has been producing "Science World" in collaboration with China Television Co. (CTV).

Shen Ying-chien, the show's producer and designer, consults with scholars, scientists, and other specialists on every subject, from sea life to rare flowering plants, presented in the technically demanding series. Shen says that he has developed an uncanny feel for what to look for and where to find it, although he admits that they do not have as sophisticated a filming setup as many stations in other countries. Nevertheless, the shows are high quality. " We have our own ways," Shen says.

Another stimulus for better children's TV was the founding and development of Chinese Public Television (CPTV), which farms out the production of children's programs and presents them to the three commercial TV stations for telecast. At present, eight programs in CPTV's repertoire are for children, and as with other public TV programs, broadcast times in the three stations have been preset at 6:00 P.M., 9:00 P.M., and 11:00 P.M. The late broadcast hours are a strike against the programs since many members of their young audience have already been sent to bed. But secure finances ensure the life of these programs; each series is budgeted at US$7,200 per segment. Over a hundred production companies set up shop after the establishment of CPTV to get a piece of the action.

Although CPTV operates under many limitations, including the lack of its own station and production staff, it can be considered a qualified success, especially in the area of children's programming. According to Katie Fang, children's program supervisor for CPTV, children's TV should be educational yet not preach or propagandize. As such, CPTV has added greatly to the variety of programs available to children, and has inspired commercial television to experiment with new programs and strengthen their content.

Many of the most impressive children's programs are the work of CTS producer Tang Tai-ling, who has won five Golden Bell Awards in her more than ten years of doing children's shows. Her winning programs include "Don't Underestimate Me," a creative scientific and artistic exploration of everyday objects like bamboo or candles, and "Magic Fingers," a children's variety show. Tang says she admires the work being done on children's programs in the U.S., and she has spent considerable time observing the Children's Television Workshop and Fred Rogers of "Mister Rogers' Neighborhood" and other shows during her trips to the U.S.

The influence of such programs as "Sesame Street" and "3-2-1 Contact" show through in Tang's productions. Her puppet characters would feel right at home with "The Muppets." She has ingeniously adapted the spirit and approach of good American children's TV in producing programs that are both original and thoroughly Chinese. For example, in her show "72 Transformations" (the title is a reference to the seventy-two transformations mastered by the Monkey King Sun Wu-kung in the Chinese classic tale Journey to the West), an animated set of four similar-looking Chi­nese characters appear, chanting "Which one is t'u (earth)?" The style is very much reminiscent of Sesame Street's method of teaching how to differentiate between objects. But Tang's musical cartoon goes further. It teaches children the pronunciations of the four characters, their meanings, and the subtle differences between their written forms, in this case a longer or shorter base stroke when writing the character.

"Children's Story World," produced in-house by CTV, is another program that has used traditional Chinese culture with positive results. Each show opens with a grandfatherly figure sitting down to tell his two grandchildren a story out of China's abundant treasure chest of myths, legends, and historical events. The story is then dramatized with elegant and realistic period costumes, and historically accurate sets and props. There is a similar offering on early Saturday afternoons, "Chinese Folk Stories," as well as the CPTV production, "Uncle Sun Tells Stories."

The Chinese folk story series are immensely popular with children, and at the end of each story in "Uncle Sun," host Sun Yueh adds a special touch—a post office box number for children to write in their comments, ask questions, and even seek advice on personal problems. Each child who writes in receives a personal letter in response. "Uncle Sun" has become one of the ways Taiwan kids can talk back to their TV sets.

Stimulating an appreciation of Chinese culture has become a major feature of children's programming. One miniseries has focused on Peking Opera with the goal of teaching children the symbolism of this ancient art. CPTV's "Happy Mountain Children" presents a picture of the daily life and the colorful arts and festivals of Taiwan's aboriginal tribes. While the program is not as popular as the Smurfs, it heightens children's awareness of the island's cultural resources and diversity. As Hsu Chia-shih, deputy director of TTV's program department sees it, one of television's major long-term missions in Taiwan is to teach people about China and the world. "Television has an important role in rebuilding the concept of a united China that must precede the country's eventual reunification," he says.

Children's shows are also going more international, just like local news programs. For example, a new chil­dren's variety show on CTS, "Color Telescope," features a "Peppermint Report" from the U.S. The young Amer­ican hosts greet their Taiwan audience before doing brief, light features covering subjects young people might be interested in—from the world's biggest pumpkin to a dress made out of chocolate.

With all the developments in children's programming, it is hard to imagine that a little over a decade ago, cartoons represented the full extent of children's television. They remain extremely popular and still make up 59 percent of all children's programming. Nearly 100 percent of the shows are imported, particularly from Japan. In addition to guidelines forbidding violence and pornography in children's programming, the GIO has a regulation stipulating that no more than 50 percent of all cartoons may come from Japan.

One purpose of this regulation, Chang Ping says, is to contain "cultural invasion." Newspapers, tapes, and other information media from Japan have long been subject to restrictions that date back to 1945 when Japan returned Taiwan to Chinese rule. But since Japan creates cartoons for a world market, it is often difficult to detect any overtly Japanese elements in the shows. Most of the characters tend to be Western-looking. Therefore, another purpose of the restriction is to encourage variety in the content and approach of children's cartoons.

This diversity comes from U.S. cartoons such as "The Flintstones," "The Berenstain Bears," "GI Joe," and "My Little Pony." "Once Upon a Time­—Life" from France and "Count Ducku­la" from the UK are also popular. All are dubbed in Mandarin with Chinese subtitles. The translations range from colloquial to passable to questionable. The English "Oh, no!" is a common expression in action cartoons and it is often translated literally as "Ou, pu!" in Chinese. The expression did not exist before in spoken Mandarin, but it has now become a part of kids' language due to exposure to the dubbed versions of "Thundercats" or "Ghostbusters. " New expressions might bring despair to conscientious parents and educators who insist on linguistic purity, but TTV's Hsu Chia-shih does not see them as a threat to culture or language.

"The term 'cultural invasion' applies to a strong culture meeting a weaker one," Hsu says. "When the two are more equally matched, it is called cultural contact. Cultural contact can be educational and enriching, and does not necessarily imply conquest. It's a natural part of the growth process and cannot be regulated."

Of the foreign cartoons, "Dennis the Menace" is the overwhelming winner among young viewers. Children, no matter where they are from, seem able to identify with Dennis and appreciate his antics. Like many other cartoons shown on Taiwan TV, its foreign origin is partially masked by the substitution of a Chinese language theme song with a totally new tune and lyrics. The catchy made-to-order songs written to accompany cartoons are among the relatively few new Chinese children's songs being composed in Taiwan.

Viewing preferences differ more over cartoons than other categories of programs. Girls tend to watch such selections as "New Little Women," "The Little Prince," and "My Little Pony," while boys go for action cartoons such as "Saber Riders" "Dinosaucers" and "Danger Mouse." Both sexes agree on "The Flintstones," "Garfield," and "Smurfs."

But when children watch TV, their preferences go beyond cartoons and children's programs. If children in Taiwan are asked what their favorite program is, they will probably not hesitate to answer "Ma Kai-hsien," MacGyver's Chinese name. "MacGyver," which on Taiwan TV has the poetic and very Chinese title, "The Heavenly Dragon that Wins 100 Battles," has claimed (according to TTV estimates) a viewership of up to 38 percent in its Saturday evening slot, sandwiched between "My Secret Identity" and "Head of the Class." In this writer's survey of Taipei third and fifth graders, nearly 100 percent of both boys and girls said they "liked MacGyver very much."

All three shows on TTV's Saturday prime time slot are dubbed in Mandarin. Due to the broad viewership and lively content of the programs, the slang used often sets or reinforces colloquial trends. MacGyver, for example, is known for his use of shuai! ("great!").

TTV reveals that they choose only the most proficient translators for the job and maintain careful quality control, avoiding low-class or underworld slang. If the slang is unfamiliar to the average viewer, it is because the translators choose mainly from among new expressions popular among university students.

Successful foreign programs owe much to the translators because they have been able to add local color to the programs by incorporating cultural values and Chinese expressions in their translations. For example, family designations like "big brother" and "auntie" are often used in Chinese to address close friends. The terms lend a pleasing extra warmth and a more personal dimension to foreign TV heroes.

The effect of TV on children has long been a topic of debate. Tang Tai-ling tells of an experiment she conducted with her own children. Over a certain period of time, she allowed them to watch whatever they wanted, whenever they wanted, for as long as they wanted. The result? "I learned from this experience that children will swallow whatever is offered them—hook, line, and sinker," she says. "This proves the importance of parents helping their children choose what they watch, and then discussing the content so they understand it better and can put it in perspective."

Before the broadcast of children's educational programs, an announcement is flashed on the screen recommending parental involvement and guidance. Also, Department of Health statistics show that the higher children move up the educational ladder, the greater the incidence of nearsightedness. This has added strength to proponents of limited viewing time for children. But most educators and programming critics agree that TV is not always the villain. When used judiciously, instead of as a baby­sitter or a pacifier, television educates and entertains as nothing else can.

One consistent theme emerges from talking with people involved in children's TV in Taiwan, and that is an enthusiastic and infectious optimism for the future. Indeed, there is a world of difference—positive difference—in the programs kids now have in comparison to the limited world of cartoons a decade ago.

"We must recognize that children are a national resource," says Hsu Chia­-shih, "and always keep in mind the kind of people they will grow up to be when we create or choose programs." And Kou Shao-en adds, "Children need to learn how to spread their wings and take off in new directions, and TV can greatly increase the options they have to choose from."