Storytelling is as old as time. Since our earliest ancestors gathered around fires to make sense of the world, humans have been driven by their need to connect, to witness and be witnessed, to say "this is my truth" and have others say, "here's mine."

We continue our species' oldest tradition with smartphones and social media, sharing everything from our experiences and opinions to photos of our cats. And while much gets said about the pitfalls of digital connection, there's something telling about how we've adapted our primal need to modern life.

So, what happens when thousands of people turn their cameras on Shanghai?

Last autumn, I was asked to judge the "Shanghai My City" video project. A creative initiative in which members of the community submitted vlogs about life here. Minutes morphed into hours and days stretched into nights as I watched countless moments captured through your lenses. The creativity and quality of these visual love letters was impressive, but what moved me most was their promise. In an era where cities feel like backdrops to our online lives, you were proof that place still matters. That a city is more than steel and concrete; it's the keeper of our stories, the stage for our becoming.

Your videos paint Shanghai in all its contradictions and harmony. Here's a city that holds ancient temples and AI startups, wet markets and Michelin-star restaurants, quiet lanes, and roaring highways. But it's the people who make these contrasts matter. A delivery driver racing past century-old plane trees. Grandmothers dancing in parks next to selfie-obsessed influencers. The way morning light hits the Bund, but how every person sees it differently.

As things do, the videos went viral. But storytellers were doing more than chasing likes. Each revealed something fundamental about human connection, how seeing a familiar place through another person's eyes can make us fall in love with it all over again. Like someone fancying your significant other, a corner we've passed a thousand times becomes exciting when other people find its charm. As we approach the Year of the Snake, this all feels particularly meaningful. The snake in Chinese zodiac symbolizes the wisdom of adaptation and renewal – the shedding of skin to reveal not just a fresh start, but something deeper about ourselves.

Nobody gets through life without heartache. The same goes for any place. The past few years have tested the world's resilience, our connections and understanding of community. But in an age where technology can pull us apart, these stories do the opposite. They remind us that even in our loneliest moments, we are part of something bigger.

It's bewildering how a single place can hold a thousand meanings. These slices of life came from long-time residents and newcomers alike, each frame a peek into another person's home. Her Shanghai is their Shanghai, is my Shanghai, is your Shanghai – not because we see it the same way, but because our different visions create something richer than any single view could.

The power of community has always lived in this multiplicity, it's in the way we each contribute bits of who we are. When we share our stories, we're doing more than documenting moments; we're answering that ancient human call to connect and belong. That's the real achievement of your videos, they remind us that a city is not just what we make of it, but what we make of it together.

When future generations look back at Shanghai, they won't just see statistics about population growth or economic achievements. Through your eyes they'll witness how we lived, loved and found belonging in a massive metropolis. They'll see how we transformed a city of millions into a community of neighbors, how we kept our humanity in an increasingly digital age, and how we found ways to make a megacity feel like home. Most importantly, they'll understand that while buildings and streets make up a city's body, it's our stories that give it soul.

As we enter this new year, these collected stories offer more than nostalgia – they offer hope. Hope that in an age of increasing isolation, we can still find ways to connect. Hope that even as Shanghai races toward its future, we can preserve the gems of its past. Hope that community, real and raw and sometimes messy, still matters. Hope that in seeing our city through each other's eyes, we might recognize both its infinite possibilities and our own.

In the end, Shanghai isn't my city, or your city. It's our city. And we're writing its future together, one story at a time.

 

The author is a columnist from Manchester, England, who has called China home since 2012. A graduate of Bournemouth University and The British College of Journalism, she writes "The Oyster Pail," a column exploring life's profound moments and what it means to be human in today's world. She welcomes your thoughts at emma.leaning@shanghaidaily.com or on X (@LeaningEmma).

 

来源：上海日报 SHINE