Burdened with social humiliation, discrimination, and economic hardship, single parents on Taiwan like Tsun face a bleak daily struggle. And Tsun's case is not unique. Lonely, working for little pay, and awarded almost no alimony, the number of divorced women in the ROC is growing alarmingly. The problems they confront, and the consequences to their children and society in general, have not yet been sufficiently assessed, for local counselors complain they cannot even find statistical data on the subject.
Though the effects of single-parent households on society in the ROC are hard to determine, the impact on the individuals involved is painfully obvious. The problems following in the wake of family break-ups illustrate the dangers of social disintegration that have sometimes accompanied Taiwan's rush to economic success.
The specific cases examined in the following article, and analyses by two experts in the field, indicate the extent of personal and social problems generated by single parenthood in contemporary Taiwan.
In fact, C. Y. Tsun could consider herself comparatively lucky. She has a job, and can support the older of her two sons, though making ends meet would be unthinkable if she did not live with her parents. She has grown accustomed to the humiliation of being a divorcee, although her bitterness surfaces every now and then. "Often, when I finally gain enough confidence in a female friend to tell her about my life, she suddenly stops treating me as an ordinary woman," Tsun says. "She becomes very reluctant to introduce me to her family, and certainly her husband."
Tsun must also confront implacable hostility from her former spouse, who now has custody of the younger son. Since she cannot visit the child at home, her only chance to see him is at school. But the father has forbidden teachers to let Tsun near the boy. Though her older son behaves normally, the younger one now shows signs typical of problem children, and is consumed with suspicion of his mother. Teachers have advised taking the younger boy to a school counselor, but the father stubbornly refuses to lose face by admitting his child's problems.
As disagreeable as the situation is, Tsun does find some limited support. She is a member of the Warm Life Association, one of the few groups in Taiwan to offer psychological counseling to divorced people. Originally founded by a number of divorcees, the association now provides volunteers to advise women like Tsun who need encouragement after an unsuccessful marriage.
Helene H. Lin, associate professor of psychology at Soochow University, is one of the association's volunteers. She points out that a regrettable after effect of divorce is often mutual, permanent hatred. In the cases she has handled, she generally finds the woman is somewhat less virulent in her hostility against the former husband than the man is toward the wife.
"In talking about the former spouse, women generally control their tempers and refrain from telling less-than-truthful tales to their children," Lin says. "But the men tend to lose perspective; they talk abusively about the mother, or tell the children she is dead. When mothers win custody of the children, the father usually visits them at the wife's home, though most of the women endure such visits with considerable tension and fear. When fathers win custody, the usual case is that children are simply forbidden to have any contact with their mother."
Lin adds that if parents are filled with hatred and anxiety, the children are obviously affected. Indeed, success in rearing children is often a direct function of the parents' own psychological maturity. How adults handle their own problems serves as a model for offspring. Lin advises female single parents to maintain close contact with teachers, and to spend as much time as possible with their children. In the case of teenagers, another important requirement is the presence of trusted friends who can act as intermediaries between the parent and child when conflicts occur that demand more objectivity.
A single woman saddled with the social stigma of divorce faces much worse problems than a widow. The widow will not encounter job discrimination, and often finds many of her neighbors or associates offering sympathy and encouragement. But the divorcee must confront utter contempt. Conservative Confucian attitudes dictate that "an unmarried maiden serve her father, a wife serve her husband, and a widow serve her sons." Obedience must be absolute, no matter how unworthy the master. Many Chinese take it for granted that a woman who parts from her husband is morally depraved, unsuited not only for social interaction with decent people, but also for any job requiring skill or responsibility.
A divorcee is thus confronted with no alternative other than keeping her marriage status a secret. While a widow might rely on family and friends as a cushion against the harsh world, a divorcee must live with an unsympathetic society, hostility from the former husband, and often the emotional insecurity of her children.
Nevertheless, a widow's plight is not enviable either. Wang Man-mei is a case in point. When her husband died 23 years ago, she was left with a tiny rural house, four children, and no money. With only a rudimentary educational background, the only job she could perform that paid the bills was around-the-clock housekeeping.
Wang reluctantly chose to live in her employer's house, accompanied by her youngest boy. The other three children stayed with her parents. After years of hard work, Wang finally earned enough cash for a down payment on a house, but her earnings were still too paltry to support her brood under one roof. In order not to burden their mother, the third youngest boy entered a naval academy for non-commissioned officers; the oldest child, a daughter, also joined the military.
The story has a happy ending. Today, the children all work at secure jobs, while Wang herself continues to work as a baby-sitter. She even has enough savings to travel abroad every year or two. Even though she is growing old, she still continues her job for practical reasons: "I have to save money for the time when I can no longer work." Security still rests on personal efforts.
Divorcees can rarely look forward to such a comforting conclusion to their struggles, although there are exceptions. L.H. Huang had been a housewife for ten years when her husband confronted her with the news that he loved, and wanted to marry, another woman. Her children meant more to her than life itself, but she knew that under ROC law, the father almost always won custody of the children in divorce cases. Moreover, the alimony payments would be minuscule, and Huang had only a high school education to qualify her for a job.
Anxious to marry his new bride as quickly as possible, her husband relinquished custody of the children without a fight. It was an answer to her prayers, but it meant a life of hardship awaited her. Huang worked as a vendor, sales-woman, and waitress in a succession of low-paying jobs. While she was out working, her nine-year old daughter looked after her two-year old son. The household atmosphere was tense, dominated by money worries.
Huang worked long hours, and the jobs drained her of all energy. By the time she arrived home, she only wanted to sleep. But the children needed attention, so Huang devised a game of cops-and-robbers with them. She was the robber, who was killed quickly, then landed comfortably on the sofa for a long nap.
Despite her best efforts, her young son suffered. With his mother gone most of the day, and his father occupied with another woman, the boy withdrew into himself. He refused to give up his pacifier until he was five years old. Huang watched helplessly, and swore she would spend every evening with him when she found better employment. After a long struggle, her luck finally turned, and she landed a decent job at a newspaper. Huang worked her way up to the position of an editor, which was just the boost needed to give her more time for the children.
Huang now has a boyfriend, whom she has seen for the last few years. But she fears marriage. Besides the usual in-security generated by a divorce, she is reluctant to subject her young children to a stepfather. "A new member of the family might complicate matters," she says. "Right now, I want harmony more than anything else. Perhaps I will remarry after the children grow up and leave the family."
She can count herself lucky. Huang remains friends with her former husband, despite his quick remarriage, and considers her household a "happy family." But she is one of the very few divorcees to have found such a happy ending to her life-drama. Most women begin their single parenthood in miserable condition. Without a college education, an escape from poverty like Huang's initial situation is little more than a dream for the vast majority of divorcees.
All is not darkness and despair—many divorced mothers have a decent job, happy and healthy children, as well as thoughts of remarriage.
Good parenting is based on frequent contact with children and teachers, psychological maturity, and tender care for the whole family. But considerable time must be devoted to bread-winning, for rearing children is expensive; food, education, medical bills, and clothing consume vast quantities of cash. The burden of being a parent is almost unbearable when an extra pair of hands around the house is missing. And with rock-bottom wages for the menial jobs most female single parents must accept, proper care of the children becomes extraordinarily difficult.
As a countermeasure to the problem, over half of the single parents in countries like the U.S. remarry within three years of a divorce. But Chinese mores do not allow such a merciful solution. Divorced males have a relatively easier time finding new spouses than their female counterparts. Women in Taiwan, once divorced, usually stay that way.
Ramsay Leung-hay Shu, an associate research fellow at Academia Sinica, specializes in family problems. He has interviewed forty single mothers through the Taipei Family Helper Project and the Warm Life Association, and explains that single mothers are in no position to find new husbands. "They are so busy working that they lack the opportunity to go hunting for a possible marriage partner," he says. "These women are also plagued with self-doubt after their failed marriages, and most are reluctant to remarry because they fear the new man might not get along with their children."
Shu adds that the situation may be graver than it appears, but he has insufficient data as yet to propose any comprehensive solutions: "I've conducted research on single-parent families in the ROC for four years, but my information is limited to those cases provided to me by the two organizations where I work. The fact is, nobody knows just how many single parent families there are in Taiwan, or how they adjust to their circumstances. Basic data is indispensable for any research leading to a solution, and I think it is time the government start supplying it. Single parent families do not seem to pose any serious social concerns to the authorities now, which is undoubtedly why they ignore the issue. But this might not be the case in a few years. It is a terrible hardship for the individuals who have already been affected, and it may prove a bigger hardship for the whole society later unless we are pre pared to do something."
Lin agrees that what the experts know about single parents on Taiwan is just the tip of the iceberg. "This is not a subject people here willingly talk about in public," she comments. "Chinese men do not discuss their failed marriages with outsiders, and they can keep the situation hidden more easily because their sisters or former wives usually care for the children. Women are much more exposed, and they are at a loss when facing economic and social obstacles, not to mention all the normal child-rearing problems. I am sure that the desperate women who come to me for help are but a small part of the total who need assistance. "
Divorce on Taiwan is a growing trend, and the issue of single parenting will only become more complicated. Experts in the field realize that programs to address the new social reality must be implemented as soon as possible. Time-honored solutions to family difficulties no longer seem to fit the pressures of Taiwan's modern industrial society. Meanwhile, those who suffer the most are either ignored or shunned by a society that regards divorce as a sign of immorality. Solutions will not come easily, as Lin and Shu point out, but a change in attitudes toward the plight of divorced women would be a gigantic first step in the right direction.