Only shy of three months have passed in 2023. Why do I call it a good year already?
Because, simply, quite a few good news poured in during those wintry months, making me really happy. On Jan. 20, I got the IAS Fellowship at Princeton, allowing me to spend a semester there this fall to further pursue my second project on aromatics. Even better, Igel and Lulu will be able to join me too, taking our first family excursion outside Buffalo. I guess Princeton is not a bad place to start Lulu's early education!
On Mar. 3, Igel and I finally received our green cards. It has been a long and arduous journey, taking us more than 2 years for the application per se, and many more years of mental stress. With perseverance and the support of people near and afar, finally I can put this frustrating matter behind. This means that Igel and I can do international travels more easily, a prospect we are very excited about.
Finally, something unexpected happened recently. I went to Boston to attend the AAS last week. It was my first trip since Lulu was born, and I had a good, though a bit overwhelming experience there. After I came back, I tested Covid positive, unfortunately, and had to sustain my childcare duty—poor Igel—and isolate myself. While doing that, I opened my email on Monday (Mar. 20), and found one titled "Congratulations!" I immediately thought this is about the other fellowship I applied last year. But it is not. It is from the president of the AAHM, informing me that my book has been awarded 2023 William Welch Medal. This is totally unexpected and a too-good-to-be-true kind of surprise. My book has been published for almost two years, and I thought that I have run out of luck for awards. Plus, the Welch Medal is often given to scholars working on modern, Western history of medicine. My book is about medicine in medieval China, so I thought my chance is quite slim. But here you go, the award committee has decided to give it to me. I am still deeply in disbelief.
Maybe I shouldn't make a big deal out of it. It is after all an award in a specialized field, namely, the history of medicine. But it does means a lot to me. Above all, it affirms the value of my book and boost my confidence as a good scholar. As Igel told me astutely, not every good book can win an award, but a book that wins an award can never be a bad book. I thought that my book is OK, a typical first book with shortcomings. Due to the time constraint, I wasn't able to make it to the degree of perfection as I wanted especially for the Introduction. But the committee must have found something valuable in my book—none of the five members are a China specialist—maybe it is its accessibility, or its message to historians of medicine, or its focus on non-Western history. I have no idea.
I have to say that, quoting Daniel Kwan (see below), my imposter syndrome is all-time high now. Although this is an award in a specialized field, many prominent scholars, including some of the pioneering figures in the field, have won the award. That long list includes my two mentors Hisa and Katy, and several China specialists (Ruth, Hsiang-lin, and Nicole). I believe that I am the first scholar from mainland China who has won this award. Maybe the pool of contenders this year is weak, or they wanted to give it to a pre-modernist, or to a scholar of color. But I should stop thinking this way, and really start pondering what this truly means to me.
It means a few things. First, it recognizes my book as a valuable one in the history of medicine. Every book targets particular audience, and mine aims for historians of medicine, including many working on Western medicine, rather than Chinese historians. People will learn more things about medicine from my book than about China. I always have qualms about this: Did I distort Chinese history to fit the modern paradigms? Did I write my book for Western audience who knows little about China? But I think I did a nuanced enough analysis that has made the Chinese history complex enough without losing the big picture of delivering a central message to my audience, which is, the context, rather than the essence, matters for any medicinal substance, Chinese or Western. That message must have somewhat resonated with the award committee.
Second, I should not self-marginalize my field of medieval Chinese history. True, it is a small field with scant sources and less obvious contemporary relevance. But it is a valuable field, still a lot to do, and if I am able to find, there are many meaningful connections to the modern world. I should continue doing what I am good at and push the field forward.
Third, it is reassuring that the studies of non-Western societies have gained increasing attention over the past years. In this respect, the recognition of my book is also the recognition of this fast-developing direction of the field. I should embrace this opportunity and make an effort to contribute further in that direction.
Perhaps by serendipity, a couple of weeks ago EEAO won the Oscar Award. Both Igel and I were very pleased to see a film produced by an Asian team and with many Asian actors won the award. It was a revelatory moment for us, making us think what kind of life and opportunities Lulu will have when she grows up. In some sense, my feeling of winning the Welch Medal is similar to that of Danial Kwan, the co-director of the movie: an abrupt, unexpected success, and a sense of imposter syndrome. As I joked to Igel, this might be the highest point of my career. On the other hand, I should also remain sober and calm. After all, it is just an award in a specialized field. In the broader world, it doesn't matter much. I am glad that my book is recognized, which perhaps can enhance my reputation as a good historian of medicine, but by the end of the day, it is the inner force that has pushed me forward over the past decades. It does give me some reassurance that after the switch of my career two decades ago, I can not only make a living by doing history but also become good at it. How rewarding is that feeling!
I was invited to go to the AAHM Annual Meeting held this May in none other than Ann Arbor to attend the Award Ceremony. As fate dictates, I contemplated and started the change of my career from that lovely place. Now, 18 years after, I am back, with a sense of fulfillment and closure, but never complacency. If such things can be called an achievement, it is only because I am standing on the shoulders of giants. And last but not least, Igel's support and encouragement in the past six years have been pivotal. That story deserves a full separate post.
I tend to think Lulu has brought me lots of luck since she was born. By any standard, this has been a very good year for me. I don't expect to hear more good news in the rest of the year, as this is already way out of my expectation. Right now, what I need to remind myself constantly is to remain humble, stand on the ground, and always be true to myself and kind to others. It is a moment that gives me confidence and hope that by good effort I can do my work well and hopefully make the world a bit better.
