Editor’s Note:

When Chinese President Xi Jinping urged the nation to pursue the “Chinese Dream,” he triggered a public dialogue about people’s expectations and how they are fulfilled. Shanghai Daily continues its dream series, this week from the perspective of those born after 2000.

They are defined numerically as the “after-00 generation,” growing up in a “124 lifestyle” of one child, two parents and four grandparents.

They are the grandchildren of people who suffered through some of the hardest years of modern China and the children of parents who were known as the “little emperors” — a pampered, spoiled generation showered with emerging consumerism.

So what will mark China’s newest generation?

Generally, the youngsters of today are characterized by open minds, innovative spirit and a great capability to absorb anything, good and bad. They are a generation whose “toys” are computers, iPhones and online entertainment.

“They have very strong characteristics, some with bad tempers,” says Zhang Minghong, a child studies professor at East China Normal University. “I’ve seen many cases where children aged six and under behave very badly in public places.”

Indeed, it’s not rare to see small children in a restaurant shouting, crying, standing up on tables and chairs, and grabbing food they like.

“Many of them don’t seem to know how to respect the elders,” the professor says.

Some parents aren’t quite sure how to cope with their strong-willed offspring. Many take the route of treating their children like friends or young adults.

Dong Ye, 36, a civil servant in Songjiang District, admits he has had issues with his parents about how to raise his seven-year-old son.

“He is spoiled by his grandma,” Dong says. “One day, just because the boy didn’t like the soup his grandma prepared, he threw a slipper into the soup from across the room. And do you know what my mother said? She said with pride: ‘My grandchild has good aim’.”

The father was so angry that he was about to spank the boy but was stopped by the grandmother.

As China gets richer and the living conditions improve, the “after-00 generation” won’t face the hardships their grandparents endured in the 1950s and 60s. In a rapidly changing demographic, they will also be a generation with one child bearing responsible for a host of aging relatives.

Still, those days are far off. Many youngsters nowadays are enamored of a world where possessions mean more to them than school grades.

Tao Fenglai, 60, a retired primary schoolteacher from Minhang District, says she worries that children are becoming too materialistic.

One morning Tao saw a boy in her class get out of his father’s car at some distance from the school and walk to the gate.

“I asked him why he didn’t have his father drop him off at the gate, and he said he didn’t want his classmates to see the old cheap car his family owns,” she says. “I was shocked. I began to feel there’s something wrong with society.”

The spiritual strength of China that carried earlier generations seems to have been contaminated by a credo of “the richer, the better.”

That’s pretty evident on the Internet, where children seem to freely express themselves.

There was the young boy in Beijing who posted his 230,000-yuan bank account online, and the little gir who posted pictures of her expensive perfumes, watches, make-up and cash, goading readers with: “Do you have these, poor guys?”

“Children want to own more things and dream of living the extravagant lifestyle depicted on TV and in magazines,” Zhang says. “What’s more, it seems parents don’t deny their children anything. Then again, the parents are also busy making money.”

The new generation are whiz kids with computers, nimble at all kinds of online games, skillful at surfing cyberspace and open to a flow of new information. Almost every child in the “after-00 generation” comes equipped with at least two electronic devices.

“They are playing on iPads, smartphones and computers whenever they are,” Professor Zhang says. “They play more, but read less. They talk more, but think less. Parents need to take more responsibility for teaching these kids a more healthy attitude toward life — how to be respectful of others.”

That’s not to say the post-millennium generation is wantonly callous.

Good examples

In 2008, when the magnitude-8 earthquake struck Sichuan Province, nine-year-old boy Lin Hao, with two broken arms, carried two injured classmates on his back for several hours to get them to safety.

“I was frightened, but I was the class monitor,” he said timidly during an interview when he received arm surgery in Shanghai.

Sun Zizhao, 11, who attends a primary school in Xuhui District, donated his piggybank savings of 500 yuan to an impoverished Tibetan child so he could go to school.

“I want to be like the sun, giving off the warmth and light to people around me,” he says. Sun’s dream is to become China’s president someday.

“What is the ‘Chinese Dream’?” asks sociologist Gu Xiaoming from Fudan University. “In my opinion, the essence of the Chinese Dream is to encourage everyone to dream bravely. The ‘after-00’ kids no longer have the burdens of previous generations. They are truly free-spirited and can pursue their dreams.”

He says the dreams of the young in an open, healthy society have no boundaries. “You want to be a scientist, and he wants to open a street café — they are all dreams,” Gu says. “Many people still think making money is their dream, but I don’t think so. A dream is all about things spiritual, not simply material. The Chinese Dream expresses the concept of people seeking joy and fulfillment. It means people taking responsibility for their own lives.”

Zhou Zheng, 10

To be a good man. That’s what fourth-grader Zhou Zheng wants to be when he grows up.

“I want to help those who are in need, just like my big brothers and sisters,” the 10-year-old says, with a serious smile. “They are my heroes.”

The “big brothers and sisters” are the volunteer teachers at Jiuqian Classroom, a nonprofit educational institution established more than 10 years ago to provide quality private tutoring and extracurricular activities free of charge for around 80 migrant children.

Zhou is learning the string zither, while his elder brother Zhou Peng, 12, plays Chinese chess at the school’s summer camp. They came to Shanghai with their parents about five years ago from Xinyang, a rural town in Henan Province. The boys’ father is a neighborhood security guard and their mother works as a street cleaner.

Parents of migrant children are struggling hard to make a living in Shanghai. Most work long hours and leave children unintended. Some eke out a living as sidewalk vendors and others resort to illegal activities, like unregistered taxi driving, to support their families. But nearly all have one thing in common: They want their children to have a better future.

“My parents always tell me to study hard so I can go to a good university and get a decent job,” Zhou says. “That’s the only way we can get others to respect us.”

The brothers study at Yumiao Primary School in Pudong, a school for migrants, and both are extremely hard-workers.

The younger boy is among the top five in his grade, while his brother ranked first in the school’s final examination and will go to Tangzhen Middle School this autumn. “He is a good example for me to follow,” says Zhou.

They’ve been attending Jiuqian for about two years. This summer the brothers are at the Jiuqian Summer Camp.

Their day there is full. Waking at 6:15am, they have activities until 7:30pm. There are lessons in choral singing, piano, erhu (two-string Chinese fiddle), guitar, clay sculpture, painting, cooking, computer skills and English. Volunteers help the children with their homework and also organize visits to botanic gardens, museums and parks.

“It’s great fun every day,” Zhou says, with an enthusiastic smile. “I love my friends and this place.”

Zhou is quite good at math and he is fond of beanbag games and rope skipping.

“My biggest wish is to go to Tsinghua University,” he says, referring to one of China’s top institutions of higher education. “I haven’t decided what I want to be when I grow up, but I know I want to become a man with a kind heart who is ready to help everyone.”

Chen Ying, 10

Chen Ying, 10, with her summer tan and athletic physique, looks tall for her age. When it comes to imagination, she does not lack fanciful ideas.

“I want to become an illustrator when I grow up — you know, those people who draw comics for children,” she says.

A somewhat naughty, chatty child, Chen doesn’t really shine in the classroom, but she doesn’t worry about grades.

“I’ll marry a South African diamond tycoon,” she says. “And I will give everyone I know a big diamond.”

Her elder sister Chen Xuan, 30, rolls her eyes at her somewhat inventive sibling. “Just work harder on your studies,” she advises.

This summer holiday, Chen Ying started to learn painting in a private tutoring school. She’s a bit late at starting, compared with other children in the school, but she does show some promising talent, according to her teacher.

“My teacher never criticizes me,” Chen says. “If I don’t do a drawing well, I just draw it again.” Painting turns the usually garrulous child into a picture of studied concentration.

When her elder sister tried to divert her from painting with a fried chicken drumstick, she snapped, “Don’t disturb me. I’m working. This is very serious. Save the leg until after I’ve finished drawing.”

Like many girls at her age, Chen likes Japanese teen girl comics of love stories. That’s where she got the idea of the “diamond tycoon.”

Her favorite comics are “Pretty Guardian and Sailor Moon,” the story of five pretty girls with magic powers.

Chen has a weibo microblog where she records her daily life: “what I eat and what I play today.”

She created a very complicated, girly Internet name, imaging herself to be a princess.

She has managed to save up 300 yuan (US$49), which she says she will use to “treat whoever is good to me to delicious cakes.”

Maximilian Tsiang, 12

Maximilian Tsiang moved from California to Shanghai because of his parents’ work commitments two years after he was born in 2001.

His father is a successful lawyer who studied in the US and remained there.

“I want to be a lawyer like my father, who can make great contributions to the community,” Tsiang says. “But my father told me that a lawyer’s work is quite tiring.”

Second on his dream list is to become an author.

“I love writing a lot,” says Tsiang, who is fluent in both English and Chinese. “In my free time, I will just think up things and write them down. Someday I will turn them into stories. I’m still working on that.”

In autumn, the boy will enter the seventh grade at the Shanghai American School.

“Grades and test scores are important, but not the most important thing in life,” Tsiang says. “School should be a place where students can have fun while they acquire the ability to learn.”

Unlike local Chinese students, who are obsessed with scores, expat children like Tsiang are more relaxed.

“We are sort of couch potatoes, watching TV every day, but I’m not,” he says. “In school we learn lots of stuff, like math, Chinese, arts, social studies and physical fitness.”

He plays violin in the school orchestra.

“My favorite subjects are ... I would say PE because I love running and playing soccer,” Tsiang says. “I’m also interested in science and doing interesting experiments in the lab.”

Most of his friends are foreigners, but one local boy from another class is his pal. They talk in Chinese, and Tsiang helps him with classroom translation.

“Local kids suffer from great pressure and have very strict parents who care more about grades and test scores,” he says. “What I appreciate most are their hard-working attitudes, grateful hearts and their modesty.”

As a Chinese-American, Tsiang is often mistaken for a local child. Once when he was eating along in a restaurant, a diner asked to share his table and started talking to him in Shanghai dialect.

“I didn’t understand him at all,” Tsiang says. “I told him I could speak only Mandarin. I could feel his disbelief throughout the whole meal.”

Tsiang doesn’t really think of himself as a foreigner because his parents speak Chinese at home and his mother teaches him Chinese culture.

“My parents have never pushed their wills on me,” he sayd. “They say I can do whatever I want in future, but they hope I can become an independent, responsible and upright person.”

Wang Xiuwen, 11

Wang Xiuwen, 11, is going to enter middle school this autumn, with her heart set on a career working with animals. “I wanted to become a biologist, but my parents hope I will become a doctor,” says Wang. “Well, if it has to be a doctor, I would rather to be a veterinarian.”

Wang’s home is like a mini zoo. She has two hamsters, a Teddy dog, two parrots, two white java sparrows and a collection of spiders and centipedes.

“I used to let the parrots fly around the house,” she says, “but they ruined the flowers on the balcony, so now I seldom let them out.”

Wang takes charge of all the feeding and cleaning work related to her pets. “Occasionally, my grandmother helps me wash the cages,” she says.

As a chairman of the student union at her primary school, Wang served as a link between teachers and students and was responsible for the monthly the school newspaper.

She once suggested the classrooms be equipped with humidifiers to reduce chalk dust blackboards are cleaned. “The teachers took the advice and installed humidifiers in each classroom,” she says proudly.

Wang is a bit of a tomboy, but she doesn’t mind. “Most of my girlfriends are straightforward just like me,” she says. “I don’t like those girls who are weak and delicate.”

Though a straight-A student and a teacher’s pet, Wang still has her naughty side. Likes pranks on teachers.

“We once substituted the cream in an Oreo cookie with toothpaste,” she says. “I put it on my teacher’s desk and left a note that read ‘gift from the class.’ My teacher took it in the light-hearted way it was intended.”

Wang’s favorite subject is English but that may soon change. “I’m looking forward to the middle school because I start to learn biology,” she says.

Being a model student has its downsides.

“If I failed in an exam, say by not getting the highest score, some of my classmates will gloat,” she says.

However, Wang has her own ways of venting frustrations.

“I talk with my pets and tell them my troubles, or I walk my Teddy dog outside for a while,” she says. “It works for me.”

Every night after dinner, Wang watches the documentary “World of Animals,” never missing an episode.

Wang is also a budding pianist. She sometimes practices for hours and has achieved a grade-7 National Piano Grading out of eight tiers. Unlike most kids forced by their parents to practice piano and take the grading exams, Wang enjoys the keyboard.

“I am in my own world when playing piano,” she says.

This summer holiday, Wang is learning painting, English, Olympic math and piano. Only Mondays and Thursdays are free, but she doesn’t mind all the activity.

“I don’t like traveling much,” she says. “And if I go outside to play, I prefer a place that has beautiful scenery and most importantly, cute animals.”

Yang Yiran, 6

Yang Yiran, 6, will enter first grade next year, but she hasn’t quite decided what school will be like.

“Lots of toys, games, fun and friends,” she says loudly and excitedly. Her mother Xu Min has already bought her new schoolbags, pencil boxes and clothes, and her father Yang Yang is busy choosing a primary school.

“We have to get prepared as early as possible,” he says. “I know it’s not necessary to send my kid to a top school, but I still don’t want her to be handicapped at the starting line.”

The starting line seems a little bit long. The parents applied for an English program in an English-language institution for their daughter when she was just three years old.

The annual tuition fee is 10,000 yuan (US$1,630). There are even more expensive schools, which provide overseas learning experiences.

“I want to be a teacher,” the little Yang says. “A teacher teaches us knowledge and she can play with children all day long.”

At home, Yang neatly lines up her plush toys, tells them to “sit down” and teaches them songs and English letters. “I also dance for them,” she adds.

But when a favorite animated TV show, “Bala Bala Little Fairy” or “Happy Sheep and Grey Wolf,” come on, she leaves her “students” in the other room and fixes her eyes on the screen.

Despite her young age, Yang has shown quite an aptitude for the abacus.

A bit on the chubby side, she loves to eat everything, from meat, vegetables and dumplings to ice cream, apple pies and French fries.

“She is never picky about food, and I am happy about that,” her mother says.

Yang also takes a ballet class every week.

“But I’m too fat,” she admits with a giggle. “Each time I bend down, my belly is the first to touch the ground.”

She was popular in kindergarten because she was generous and shared snacks with classmates.

“Children like her,” the father says. “And we often tell our daughter to share food and toys with her friends.”