On being a Black creative in China: the real conversations

The short answer people want: "It's interesting. People are curious. Sometimes it's tiring."

The longer answer: it depends entirely on where you are, what you're doing, and how you hold it.

The visibility

In Shaoxing, I am visibly foreign in a way that doesn't fade into the background. People stare, particularly older residents and children. Some of it is curiosity, some of it is genuine surprise. Very little of it has felt hostile.

In bigger cities — Shanghai, Beijing — the visibility is lower because foreigners are more common. But it doesn't disappear.

I made a decision early on to treat the curiosity as an invitation rather than an intrusion. When someone takes a photo without asking, I usually ask to take one of them too. It turns an awkward moment into an exchange. Not everyone has patience for this. I understand that.

The creative space

What I didn't expect was how much space there is here for a Black creative who is genuinely curious about Chinese culture. The assumption that foreigners are here to observe and leave creates an opening for those of us who are here to actually engage.

My work has changed because of the visual culture I'm surrounded by. The relationship between design, craft, and identity in Zhejiang province — especially in the textile industry — has influenced how I think about materiality in ways I couldn't have predicted.

The community question

Finding community took time. The spaces where foreigners gather in China tend to be either expat bars or professional networking events — neither of which felt like home.

Sofa Lounge was different because it was built around actual creative interests, not just proximity. The people I've met here are curious, engaged, and not performing their China experience for Instagram.

What I'd tell someone considering it

Come with genuine curiosity and thick skin. The rewards are real. So are the challenges. Don't let either of them be a surprise.