Even though many intend to leave Xinjiang, most students from an ethnic minority background are unwilling to go through the troubles associated with this desire.

Graduates of my school’s program generally have an easy time finding well-paid jobs within Xinjiang. After graduation, students who head to Southern Xinjiang, such as the cities of Kashgar and Hotan where Uyghurs outnumber Han four to one, it’s possible to secure a monthly income of more than 5,000 RMB ($720 USD). People who work for the public security sector at the autonomous regional level, which is equal to the provincial level, can earn more than 10,000 RMB ($1,440 USD) every month, fresh out of school. The cost of living in Xinjiang is not very high, so this level of income can guarantee a very comfortable life.

“Our teacher taught us one day and was gone the next”

I think the most horrible thing about school was our weekly political education. I had never learned so much politics in my life. Since first year, the whole school would gather for political studies on a weekly basis for an entire afternoon. The content of political studies included newly published reports by national leaders, news updates from various provinces and ministries, as well as reports from official media channels. All materials were read aloud to us by teachers sitting at a podium.

After listening to the lecture, we also had to produce a report on political thought, which ranged from 1500 to 2000 characters. The reflections first described what we have learned from the lecture, and then reflect upon whether we encounter the issues that were raised in class. For example, have you recorded or saved any video or audio files of violent and terrorist activities? Do you have the inclinations of being a “double-faced person”? This refers to people who support Party policies on one hand while simultaneously and secretly supporting extremist thought. We wrote the most about this notion of being a “double-faced person”.

Moreover, during the first few days at the beginning of every semester, we had to study politics and write reflections, in replacement of the normal curriculum. To be honest, the content that we were taught was quite boring. While lectures are happening from the podium, many of us sitting down in the audience would fiddle with our phones during these speeches.

We had a total of three thick textbooks, which mainly documented the foreign visits, remarks, and new policies of our political leaders. We had to write reflections after each day’s teachings, and produce a general summary after the holistic process of political training is complete.

We really felt a sense of desperation. This whole process is inherently very routine but without much substance. The written reflections felt meaningless, since we would just copy each other’s writing anyways.

Not only did we as students have to learn, the teachers also had to learn to. Before the beginning of each semester, the teachers had to engage in a week-long political learning program before classes officially started. The number of teachers was much smaller than the number of students, which made it much harder to slack off when listening to lectures or writing reflections and reports.

“Sanjin”, or three entries, means that teachers must enter the cafeteria, student residence, and classroom with their students on a weekly basis. “Liangliao”, or two conversations, requires teachers to chat with not only the students, but also with their fellow teachers. “Yijiaoyou”, or the notion of “one socializing”, refers to the guideline that every Uyghur teacher, including our principal, should maintain frequent contact with the students by communicating over WeChat.

Initially, we were not required to hand in our phones and computers for inspection. Starting in 2016, we were asked to visit the Department of Student Affairs every month with our phones and computers. We took turns between the different classes, lining up to turn in our devices and wait. If they found no issues after checking our devices, they would cross our names off on a chart before we could leave. Using a data cable, they would connect our phones and computers to their laptop, which is also connected to another device that I do not know the name of.

Not only were our devices inspected, it was also mandatory for us to install “internet cleansers” on our phones, and submit a screenshot as proof that the application was downloaded.

Basically, the Department of Student Affairs can see everything in our phones and computers. I am always unwilling during these inspections, because I feel like they are an infringement on my privacy. There was one time when my classmate deliberately locked his phone before submitting the device for inspection. As a result, the Department of Student Affairs returned the phone, and asked him to re-submit the phone after unlocking it.