How students lived in China in the 1990s

Young, enthusiastic, and full of hope—that's how photographer Zhao Gang, a student at the Changchun Institute of Optics and Precision Mechanics, captured them. His photographs capture carefree days, friendships, first loves, and the atmosphere of student life in China in the early 1990s. Decades later, these images became a chronicle of an entire generation and formed the basis of the book "My University."

Young and naive—that's how students from the Changchun Institute of Optics and Precision Mechanics appear through the lens of Zhao Gang. His career began in the 1980s in Harbin (Heilongjiang Province), when his parents bought their young son a Ricoh XR7 camera. In 1991, Zhao's work was noticed by professional photographer Wang Fuchun, who took him under his wing. Wang gave the future student important advice: photograph everything around him. The culmination of his work during those years was a series of photographs, which was published in 2018 as the book "My University," reports Sixth Tone.

I knew little about the university where I was planning to spend the next few years. Before enrolling, my education had been quite limited; I'd never gone beyond school textbooks. But at university, we began to study literature, history, and philosophy. I became deeply interested in these subjects, and it was then that I truly began to feel free.

I was constantly wandering around campus: past dorms, cafeterias, classrooms, computer labs, and libraries. It was a life without cell phones and other gadgets, hard to imagine now. All our entertainment began after classes. Particularly popular were the discos, which took place every weekend in the student lounge. These were the liveliest events on campus: just imagine dozens of carefree young men and women twirling and dancing under the bright lights.

I was also a regular at the film club, where they showed movies every Wednesday and Saturday. Most of them were filmed in mainland China, Hong Kong, and Taiwan, and the Westerns were usually quite old. In the mid-1990s, China began importing Hollywood blockbusters, the first of which I saw was the 1993 hit "The Fugitive." The sound effects were simply stunning; I had never heard such realistic sound in a movie before.

Back then, there weren't many televisions in the dorms because they were so expensive. Only a few students managed to pool their savings to afford one. The most interesting programs for us were plays, entertainment shows, and sports matches. The 1994 FIFA World Cup was being held in the United States and, due to the time difference, was broadcast live late at night. The students took the television out into the hallway and plugged it into the outlet intended for a lamp. A crowd of spectators gathered in front of the tiny black-and-white TV.

Compared to my carefree dorm life, I was a bit nervous about math during my studies. I did quite poorly in the subject in high school. Luckily, we had a wonderful teacher, Chen Yujian, who had a wealth of experience under his belt. Chen used vivid metaphors and joked a lot during his lectures. All this, combined with his resonant voice, never let me get bored: I never missed a single lesson.

Although my studies weren't going smoothly, by my third year I had become fully committed to photography. Sometimes I'd sneak art books into class or skip classes entirely to take photos. I'd lost interest in my major (testing and measuring equipment and instruments) and felt like I'd come to the wrong place and that my calling lay elsewhere.

I began to take my studies seriously and became a frequent visitor to the photography studio at the Northeast Normal University Faculty of Arts. I was also fortunate to make friends at the Jilin Provincial College of Art. Taking photos, editing them, and organizing small exhibitions with them are some of my fondest memories. We rarely communicate after graduation, but I consider this friendship a treasure. When I take out photos from those years, they simply sparkle with old memories.

I still remember my first photo on campus—I captured my classmate Wu Shaohua washing a window. My friends considered me special, as if I had a "professional" status in their eyes. Soon, I joined the university's photography association.

When I was shooting the "My University" series, my mentor, Wang, told me that my photographs were getting better each time, but I still lacked experience. I didn't quite understand what he meant at the time. It took me many years to realize that only practice makes perfect.

Van's advice and comments were very helpful. These shots were a huge source of inspiration for me.

In 1995, I convinced the university administration to let us use a spare room as a darkroom. From then on, we had our own little photo paradise, where we could develop photographs and prepare exhibitions. From the moment I entered until I graduated, I used over 135 rolls of black-and-white film. Those four years gave me the confidence that photography would become my career. After graduating, I got a job in a photo studio.

In the mid-1990s, the state was unable to provide jobs for all graduates, so job fairs grew in popularity starting in 1994. However, students could only apply to companies approved by the university. Otherwise, they had to pay for their studies.

For example, my university was affiliated with the now-defunct Ministry of Arms Industry. For choosing a job at a photo agency, I was forced to pay the university 4,000 yuan in compensation.

Throughout my studies, I photographed graduates as they left campus. It was incredibly moving: every year, the Changchun railway station became the site of these ceremonial farewells. And on July 6, 1996, I waved goodbye to my classmates at the same station. I cried so much I could barely see the frame in my camera's viewfinder.

Only after graduating from university did I feel like I had truly become an adult and found my calling. I still believe the "My University" series taught me the most important thing: true happiness and freedom come from pursuing a profession you love.

Zhao Gang's project takes us back to a time when youth didn't know the internet, and communication was lively and genuine. These photographs remind us how quickly time flies and how important it is to preserve life's simple joys. Each frame exudes sincerity, simplicity, and a freedom that's hard to find today. Do you remember your student years as just as carefree and full of hope?