Collage of two different women on their phones, a hand holding a phone, and the logo for Xiaohongshu.

How the Chinese diaspora feels about American ‘TikTok refugees’ on Rednote

During the TikTok ban debacle, many Americans moved to Xiaohongshu; what was the result?

What did Americans learn from their time on the app, and how did they affect the Chinese diaspora?

Photo illustration by Ryan Quan

Words by Diamond Yao

When it was announced that TikTok was going to be banned in the United States, starting Jan. 19, many American users on the platform flocked to Chinese social media platform Xiaohongshu—also known as Rednote. Cultural dialogue ensued between the newly arrived Americans and existing Chinese users. As some of the only people who have deep familiarity with both online worlds, many members of the Chinese diaspora living in the West watched in awe and surprise as two online ecosystems that had seldom interacted in the past, collided.

TikTok has since been restored in the United States after President Donald Trump signed an executive order granting the platform a 75-day extension to comply with a law that requires it be sold to an American buyer or be banned for good. With the long-term future of TikTok in the United States still uncertain, many members of the Chinese diaspora wonder about the lasting effects of this little moment of Internet cross-cultural interaction. 

A glimpse into each other’s lives…and the realities of propaganda

Chinese Canadian cybersecurity expert, digital artist and activist Liane Décary-Chen was happy to see that this viral moment allowed “Americans and Chinese people (to) break their respective propaganda walls.” “Regular Americans, talking about their day job, talking about not being able to pay rent, about how awful the food is. And then people kind of see (that) in China, they're eating really well...how modern the cities are,” she says. “So the discourse I'm seeing about what people are saying on Xiaohongshu is of Chinese realizing that Americans are poor and hate their life, and then Americans realizing that Chinese people have a pretty good life, and being like, ‘Wait, what?’” Décary-Chen thinks this moment has made Americans reckon with the propaganda their government has fed them about Chinese people and the propaganda that Chinese people have been fed by their government about Americans. “So when both of them overcome these layers, they both enter into a realm of not really knowing with certainty what is propaganda, and what is not,” she explains. Décary-Chen is happy that Chinese and Americans now have the opportunity to have one-on-one conversations with each other online, and that those conversations are being reposted on Western social media to an even wider audience.

She is also glad that this moment has led Americans to realize that many different Internet cultures exist around the world. “The Internet cultures don't really reach each other in the mainstream. So I thought it was really interesting to see them collide,” Décary-Chen says. “Even (with) the stickers people would respond with, or the way that people talk to each other. I don't think Americans (are conscious) that other countries have their own Internet culture."

Sylvia Chan-Malik, an associate professor in American studies and women's gender and sexuality studies at Rutgers University-New Brunswick urges Americans to decenter themselves during moments of cultural dialogue. “I think a lot of Americans, younger Americans especially, are going to be coming to the realization that so many things they've been told about—who they are as Americans, who we are in the world, and who other people are—these narratives are no longer holding in this new kind of global order that we live in now, the shifting geopolitics that we live in now,” she says.

As a second-generation Muslim Chinese American, Chan-Malik also criticizes the tendency of some segments of the American left to engage in faulty binary logic. She believes that some factions of the American left romanticize communist governments as a contrast to the failure of American liberal democracy. “I saw that reflected in some of the posts that I was seeing of people (saying), ‘Oh, Xiaohongshu is such a better place,’” she explains, adding that while the United States has indeed demonized China for decades, it doesn’t mean that the Chinese government is blameless, and that more nuance should be added to those conversations. “What really troubled me, I'll just say this, was that immediately, some people were sharing, ‘Oh, Tiananmen was all a hoax. That's not really happening to the Uyghurs. Clearly, because I've been speaking to Chinese users on Xiaohongshu for a day or two, they're really nice people! And this is the conclusion that I'm going to come to, that I've always been lied to about China and now everything on that end is true.’”

While Chinese Canadian musician and social media critic Peggy Hogan is happy about the cross-cultural dialogue, she is nonetheless frustrated that it took TikTok being banned for many Americans to deconstruct their stereotypes about Chinese people. “Why is this the thing that caused you to be willing to be curious and open minded? (Frustration) was sort of my first initial reaction when this was all happening,” she shares. “I have been talking about Sinophobia, especially since the pandemic, on my channel, and I feel like I'm in the echo chamber of my peers when I talk about that. Those messages are not getting out any further."

Chan-Malik wants to caution white American Xiaohongshu users against painting Chinese people living in China and members of the Chinese diaspora with the same brush. “So many of the stereotypes that Americans have about Chinese and China are based on their engagements with Asian Americans, Chinese Americans primarily,” she explains. “And the reality is...that Chinese in China, or in Hong Kong, or in Taiwan, or in places where it's a majority Chinese population, don't see themselves through these same frameworks.” She hopes that Americans understand that these are two peoples who each live in a particular society, with a particular set of cultural norms.

Chan-Malik also wants Americans to be aware that the demographic of Chinese users on Xiaohongshu—who tend to be upper middle-class urbanites—are not representative of the lived experiences of all Chinese people. “On the one hand, I think it's wonderful for people to engage, but I hope people understand they are engaging with a very small part, or a very minuscule part, of the Chinese population through this app, who is not representative of the Chinese people writ large,” she says.

A rebellion against Western social media?

Though the vibe Hogan saw on the Xiaohongshu was at first one of positive cultural dialogue, she thinks that dialogue is only an unexpected side effect. She believes the real intention of these “TikTok refugees” was to troll the U.S. government and the U.S. tech oligarchy by hopping on another Chinese app. “It is kind of like a ‘F*ck you’ to the U.S. government to be like, ‘Oh, you tried to take TikTok away. Well, we're gonna go to this even more Chinese thing now!’” she says. “I think that move was not motivated by a desire to interact with Chinese people and find out what's going on in China (so) it does still feel somewhat dehumanizing."

“There’s this idea of like, ‘Okay, our thing’s getting taken away? Well, let's just go over here! Let's have our little space here now!’ With zero consideration of disrupting what's actually going on there, and also very little interest in what that app even is.”

Because she believes Americans did not join Xiaohongshu to learn more about Chinese people, Hogan thinks they are performing “digital colonization.” “There’s this idea of like, ‘Okay, our thing’s getting taken away? Well, let's just go over here! Let's have our little space here now!’ With zero consideration of disrupting what's actually going on there, and also very little interest in what that app even is,” she says. “There was no sort of questioning of…are there values inherent in the way that this particular algorithm works?” Hogan did not appreciate the entitled attitude of some new American users who expected existing Chinese users to explain the app to them. She also did not appreciate how Americans brought the viral trends-based social media ethos that TikTok is known for to Xiaohongshu, without regard for the fact that the Chinese app is more about consumerism. “That kind of entitlement of going onto a platform (with) the assumption even that this must be exactly like TikTok,” she bemoans. “If these people were going truly with an open mind and in good faith, there would be a lot more interest in, ‘Maybe we should silently observe a little bit, let's figure out what's going on here.’”

Hogan worries that the thoughtlessness with which Americans joined Xiaohongshu will affect the kind of content she sees as a Chinese person living in the diaspora. “One of the consequences I'm afraid of is that, as a result of having so many Westerners on this platform, the Chinese government is going to start throttling the type of content we see in the West,” she says. “That concerns me as a member of the Chinese diaspora, because Xiaohongshu (is) one of the only Chinese social media applications that allows users with a non-Chinese phone number to access it. That was one of the only ways that we could have insight into things like Chinese popular culture...how do people feel about certain political movements. That stuff is largely obscured for those of us who are not living behind the firewall.” She also worries that as more Americans use Xiaohongshu, the Trump administration might consider banning it outright.

Social media utopia does not exist

As a cybersecurity expert, Décary-Chen worries that American users who want to disengage from Western social media platforms, out of data privacy concerns and to rebel against the American tech oligarchy, do not apply the same diligence to Chinese social media platforms. “The perspective I'm seeing from my friends is like, ‘Facebook already has my data, Google already has my data. What do I care if another conglomerate has my data?’ But I think that's not the right approach,” she cautions. “Ideally, it's not, ‘Everybody’s gonna have my data, I don't care.’ It's like, well, maybe you should be careful across the board of where your data is going, but that is in the general sense of...digital hygiene. If one guy has my social security number, I'm not going to go and give my social security number to everyone!”

As someone who has traveled to mainland China, Hong Kong and Taiwan multiple times, and used many Chinese social media platforms during her stays, Chan-Malik is acutely aware of the limitations of those apps. “I have no illusions that the Chinese social media landscape is this kind of free-for-all, non-censored space, either, because I know that for a fact (that) it's not...because I've been there and I understand the types of restrictions that happen there,” she explains, adding that it’s something many American “TikTok refugees” who are flocking to Xiaohongshu to escape the surveillance of the American tech oligarchy might not be aware of. “And I'm not trying to say it's worse, because I believe we're being surveilled here, and they're collecting our data here in the States. I wanted to point out that...there are no ideal social media platforms. And just because we understand that Twitter, Facebook, Meta are collecting our data and tracking us, doesn't mean Xiaohongshu isn't either...It's all regulated. You are being tracked. Your posts are being monitored, and that is by both the American government and the Chinese government.”

A lasting cross-cultural dialogue?

Décary-Chen hopes that this viral moment will lead to a lasting cross-cultural dialogue between Americans and Chinese. “Right now…I can't think of places like that. So I think it's a really interesting way to have a new culture be shaped, even if it's in super small ways of memes or sticker reactions or sharing expressions,” she hopes. “But just having a cultural bridge where from the individual level to the collective level, understanding and camaraderie can be fostered. Because we are entering a very difficult political moment with the American presidency. So I think amassing goodwill and people who are able to understand and empathize and talk to each other will be important.”

Published on February 3, 2025

Words by Diamond Yao

Diamond is an independent writer/journalist who focuses on contemporary social and environmental issues. Based in Montreal/Tio’tia:ke, she aims to bring underreported stories and perspectives into the open to add to important conversations. Much of her work focuses on marginalized voices, intersectionality, diaspora, sustainability and social justice. Her work has been featured in many outlets that include Toronto Star, CBC, The Canadian Encyclopedia, and The Washington Post.

Art by Ryan Quan

Ryan Quan is the Social Media Editor for JoySauce. This queer, half-Chinese, half-Filipino writer and graphic designer loves everything related to music, creative nonfiction, and art. Based in Brooklyn, he spends most of his time dancing to hyperpop and accidentally falling asleep on the subway. Follow him on Instagram at @ryanquans.