The Subtle Steps to Becoming Chinese

Twenty-four years after a photograph of five blonde non-Chinese children entering a primary school in Dongguan, Guangdong province, appeared on the front page of a local newspaper, one of them has returned to the public eye.

Adrianna Rommeswinkel, 29, an American-German, was 6 when she arrived in China in 2002.

For her, feeling as though she belonged in China did not emerge from a single moment.

“That feeling grew into my bones … through so many small, unremarkable moments,” she says.

That process unfolded through everyday experiences that gradually reshaped her sense of home. One of Rommeswinkel’s vivid early memories is of her and her siblings taking part in morning exercises with classmates.

“That’s the thing about belonging, when you’re in it, you don’t notice,” she says. “You just are.”

Over time, belonging became rooted less in physical places than in relationships. She recalls being quietly comforted at her best friend’s home as a child.

“My godmother took one look at me and put a bowl of soup in front of me. Didn’t ask questions. Just … soup.”

She even remembers the family’s phone number and returns to the neighborhood market where vendors recognize her and recall her childhood preferences.

Her understanding of “becoming Chinese” extends beyond language. While her fluency in Cantonese and Mandarin is the most obvious aspect, she points to the deeper meanings embedded in everyday interactions.

“Language isn’t just words. It’s the jokes you get, that you learn from years of sitting at dinner tables, listening, absorbing.”

She even dreams in Cantonese sometimes, she says.

Reflecting on her parents’ decision to raise the family in China, Rommeswinkel says: “That choice gave me something I couldn’t have gotten anywhere else. It gave me two worlds instead of one. It wasn’t easy. But it was everything.”

In recent years many non-Chinese in China have had similar experiences of cultural immersion shaped by long-term, everyday interactions.

Emma Sandford, 31, from Northern Ireland, has spent much of the past decade moving in and out of China, building a life closely connected to the country.

From an internship at a charity music festival in Zhuhai, Guangdong province, in 2017, to teaching in Haikou, Hainan province, and Chengdu, Sichuan province, her connection has evolved from curiosity into something more personal.

Language was the turning point in her journey, reshaping how she thinks, expresses emotions and understands the world, she says.

“Through the language I began to better understand Chinese history, humor and ways of expressing emotion, opening a deeper path into the culture.”

Certain ideas and feelings can be more precisely expressed in Chinese than in English, she says, giving her a new way to articulate everyday experiences.

Her immersion deepened after moving to Chengdu in 2022, when she made a conscious effort to build friendships with locals who did not speak English. Working in a kindergarten and interacting with older colleagues offered a closer look at everyday perspectives. Living with Chinese roommates, and now with her boyfriend and his mother, further grounded her in daily life.

“These experiences offered me an understanding of culture that goes beyond what short-term visits can provide,” Sandford says.

Carly Beth, an American singer-songwriter, pianist and livestream artist in New York, says she began her journey with Chinese music unexpectedly while living in London, when a Chinese acquaintance encouraged her to livestream to audiences in China. She continued streaming daily while learning the language and developing her music, building a strong connection with Chinese listeners.

“When I started livestreaming to China the response was overwhelming in the most beautiful way. I suddenly had thousands of people connecting with my music at once, but I couldn’t communicate with many of them. I stayed up until 4 a.m. night after night teaching myself Chinese just so I could talk and sing to them.”

A turning point came when she encountered the classic song Later by the singer Rene Liu, which reflects on love and regret.

“I looked up the translation and I cried. The emotional depth of the lyrics hit me so hard that I immediately knew I wanted to continue learning Chinese music.”

She developed her own way of learning, slowing songs down and mimicking each sound, finding that melody helped guide both tone and emotion.

“Singing in Chinese actually felt easier than speaking at first, because melodies help guide the tones and emotion. … The most rewarding part has been the emotional connection with my Chinese audience. Music stopped being just performance; it became communication.

“It feels less like I chose Chinese music, and more like Chinese music chose me.”

Friends and family in the United States who had never listened to Chinese music before have begun listening to the songs she performs, forming what she describes as a cultural bridge, she says.