Are You In a “Chinese Time of Your Life”?

All over social media, being Chinese has become the new trend. Over the past year, Americans have begun “Chinamaxxing,” imitating Chinese culture in all aspects of their lives. From adopting Chinese wellness practices like traditional medicine and tai chi, to discovering a newfound passion for Popmart figurines, the year of the horse, and dim sum, many people have found themselves increasingly devoted to mimicking the customs of a country thousands of miles away. 

The movement began with an April 2025 X post parodying the famous final line of the 1999 film “Fight Club.” “You met me at a very chinese time in my life,” user @girl__virus tweeted. 

Social media users and influencers of all different ethnicities quickly joined in, producing content ranging from misinformed satire videos to explanations that reflect a genuine, respectful interest in engaging with traditional Chinese practices. Several users identified how Chinese practices centered around balance, moderation, and mental health can provide a clarifying contrast to the workaholic and productivity culture that dominates Western channels. 

Eventually, this trend circulated back to Chinese people, often invoked as parody. Asian-American comedian Jimmy O. Yang posted a video of himself wearing the Chinese-inspired Adidas jacket, with the caption “You met me at a very Chinese time of my life, which is EVERYDAY.”

So, is “Chinamaxxing” cultural appropriation? Or is it a genuine attempt to connect with different cultures in the age of globalization?

There are various perspectives on Chinamaxxing. For one, assuming another culture can be dangerous, particularly through a curated social media persona. “Saying that you were becoming another race, however ironically, used to be the kind of thing that would get you canceled,” author Zeyi Yang wrote in a 2026 “Wired” article titled “Why Everyone Is Suddenly in a ‘Very Chinese Time’ in Their Lives.” 

For Yang, in a social media landscape that is becoming increasingly polarized, claiming another ethnicity is dangerous because it suggests that one is also familiar with the cultural and historical context alongside the flashy, glamorous cultural exports. When people select traditions and pare down the cultural context surrounding them, they risk reducing a country to what is arbitrarily augmented by social media algorithms.  

Others interpret the situation as a shift in the psychology of Americans. “It’s no coincidence that Chinamaxxing comes as the American Dream seems to be dimming,” author Koh Ewe wrote in a 2026 BBC article titled “Is this a ‘very Chinese time in your life’? The trend boosting China’s soft power.” In other words, when America seemingly no longer represents idealized freedom and ceaseless opportunities, people turn to alternative cultures to find power and purpose in their lives.

In fact, the fascination with Chinese culture actually occurred before the current wave of Chinamaxxing, with the proliferation of the “Xue Hua Piao Piao,” or “Chinese eggman,” meme. The video of a Chinese man with a distinctly egg-shaped head singing a song in Chinese went viral in May 2020, amidst the COVID-19 lockdowns, which spurred a massive spike in pandemic-related Asian hate crimes. John Cena’s infamous “Bing Chilling” video was posted a year later in May 2021 and subsequently permeated Americans’ cultural lexicon. 

Then, in January 2025, when the United States TikTok ban went into effect, countless American users flocked to RedNote, the Chinese social media equivalent. American users joked about finally meeting their alleged “Chinese spies,” which Chinese netizens found hilarious. People used auto-translate features to bridge the language barrier, giving way for Chinese speakers to explain the idioms behind the nonsensical English translations. For a few brief moments, it seemed like there was a genuine moment of camaraderie and connection between American and Chinese netizens. 

“Many Chinese users are sharing memories of their English classes at school, where they were often asked to write letters to imaginary American pen pals. Now they’re hearing from real friends writing back,” author Aowen Cao wrote for “NPR.”

It seems that cultural appreciation is still possible, but there is often a dissonance between the effort made to connect across cultures and the actual outcome of cross-identification. Indeed, anti-Asian hate was still prevalent in 2025, when Chinamaxxing began. 

Unlike the previous intersections with Chinese culture, Chinamaxxing seems to be increasingly reliant on deductive stereotypes. Social media influencers have been oversimplifying Chinese culture, simply regurgitating the latest buzzwords that just happen to be related to China. The nuances of Chinese culture—from the history behind wellness practices to Confucianism that permeates social relationships—are lost within short-form media crafted to hook viewers in. 

In other words, the trend of Chinamaxxing feels like getting your own culture and traditions misexplained to you in glaringly simplified and ignorant language. Ultimately, Western enjoyers of Chinese culture still view the East as something “other”—something so wildly different from their own culture that it becomes funny.

As a result, for us, as Chinese-Americans, this meme is also our opportunity to reclaim authority on our culture and speak to what the entire Chinese experience is. 

We have experienced the dance between reconciliation and identification with both parts of our hyphenated identity. For us, saying that we are in a transitory “Chinese time of my life” is simply inaccurate. We identify as individuals who have developed confidence and assuredness in our mixed cultures.

Our pride in our Chinese heritage cannot be disentangled from China’s growing geopolitical role. Over these past years, with the rise in semiconductor technology, China has grown into a powerhouse of exports and enviable products, boosting national pride and patriotism. Since 2020, the volume of China’s exports has increased by 43%, well above China’s pre-pandemic trend. Whether in consumption goods or high-tech exports, China has evolved into an impressive economic engine. 

For example, Starbucks, which has a flagship store on Nanjing Road, the busiest part of Shanghai, is now outnumbered by Luckin Coffee, Manner Coffee, and other chain stores that originated from China. Once dominated by Japanese, Korean, and European brands, the cars on the roads—among which most are electronic—are now produced by Chinese companies, such as BYD, Geely, and SAIC. These native-born companies proudly manufacture products labeled “Made in China.” Chinamaxxing is implicitly tied to a growing admiration for China.

Yet, our pride cannot be completely explained by the status China has achieved on this scale. Maturity has also granted us the perspective to appreciate the Chinese lessons that enable us to speak the language of a civilization that spans more than 5,000 continuous years. Speaking the language offers us the opportunity to engage in dialogue with our relatives, to participate in popular trends, listen to new songs, and adapt to the ever-evolving country. 

At the same time, understanding the language unlocks the key to understanding Chinese practices, values, and stories encoded within the linguistic structure. As college students living far from the scents and flavors of home, we find that speaking Chinese to each other helps to keep us grounded in our culture and safe in our identities. As a result, watching the internet engage blindly with Chinamaxxing and mistranslating Chinese language, like any other trend, is frustrating, destabilizing, and even offensive to our culture. 

It is no coincidence that one of the most common topics in ancient Chinese poetry is homesickness. For us, we are faced with the unique predicament of being homesick for a land where we were not born, while watching the internet exoticize the rituals that we hold dear. With its flaws and temporality, watching the Chinamaxxing trend only makes us yearn for the true China more.

Ellie Guo ’29 (eguo@college.harvard.edu) and Cloris Shi ’29 (clorisshi@college.harvard.edu) are always in a very Chinese time of their lives.