"In China," or so the Chinese saying goes, "women hold up half the sky."

Such an empowering image — if only it were true. If only women in China held up more than just tea for their husbands and bottles for their babies while maintaining the respect of society.

It's an ironic scene. The People's Republic of China is going to great lengths to modernize its economy and culture in preparation for its assumed WTO entry, yet the country's 1.3 billion inhabitants are still holding onto ideals of decades past when it comes to women (think June Cleaver, only Chinese).

And as the government attempts to beautify Beijing in an effort to prove it's a suitable host for the 2008 Olympic Games, the city's women have yet to discover their own true beauty — their independence and social equality.

During my recent month-long stay in Beijing, I was once again reminded of the fact that the country still has far to go before it can fit the modern image it so desperately seeks to portray.

Perhaps some think the Starbucks Coffee shops that have sprung up on the grounds of ancient landmarks like the Forbidden City is somehow a metaphor for the country itself. However, until Chinese women can claim they are equal to their male counterparts (and believe it), the country is forever a developing one.

Besides visiting with relatives I only see every few years if I'm lucky, I also interned with a news agency while I was in Beijing. As I accompanied reporters on assignments to ask simple person-on-the-street questions, the issue of gender inequality in China particularly struck me.

As we attempted to include an approximately equal amount of men and women in the short interviews, I discovered a severely disheartening trend.

Among the handful of women we approached, a high proportion of them would a) refuse to talk to a camera, b) refer the question to the man accompanying them, as if he was some sort of spokesperson, or c) claim they knew nothing about the subject matter.

Within the last group of women, the most surprising fact was how much they did know. For instance, immediately following Gore's concession last month, we asked a related question to passersby: What do you think of America's election process, given the drawn-out dispute and new results?

Out of several women we approached, only one even let us finish asking the question, at which point, she told us she didn't know anything about politics. One of the reporters encouraged her to say whatever was on her mind, and low and behold, she gave us a quick chronology of the events since the U.S. election in November and finished by saying she was impressed by America's ability to remain peaceful during the crisis.

So much for not knowing anything.

Unfortunately for the truly modern women who are attempting to reflect the country's rapid developments, the rest of society does not accept them. In fact, there's a name for women who fit in this category: nuqiangren, which literally means woman of strength. Sounds like a compliment, but in today's China, the description embodies negative connotations of a woman who puts her professional life at the top of her priorities.

The Washington Post last month reported on one of these so-called nuqiangren, Coco Ye. The single 28-year-old Internet executive received an overwhelming amount of criticism from society and an ordered forbiddance from the Chinese government when she decided to apply for artificial insemination.

When asked why she did not want to have a child in wedlock — the only legal way to have children in China — she answered that she very much did want to get married, but had been told by many previous boyfriends that they wanted a woman who was "young and pretty and gentle."

They wanted a wife "who will look after the family, and not emphasize their careers so much."

Perhaps much of China has outgrown its traditions of feet-binding and keeping concubines, but many girls are taught from birth, whether blatantly or not so blatantly, that they are not as valued as their brothers.

While I was in China, my cousin told me a story about an acquaintance who had impregnated his girlfriend. The couple ran away from home to avoid the shame of keeping this "illegitimate" pregnancy. However, the man has told friends that he will return to his hometown on one condition: if his girlfriend bears a baby boy.

That way, he can blunt the embarrassment by boasting of a child who will carry on his family name and do great things in its honor. If it's a girl . . . well, let's just say he hopes it's not.

I realize this type of discrimination and cultural value system is not particular to China.

We've all heard the horror stories of female circumcision and abuse in other parts of the world. Expected subordination and submissiveness from women is nothing new to even some in this country.

But the topic hits close to home for me when I think of my cousins, my aunts, my grandmother — all living in a country that values its image of modernity more than the reality of it.

My only hope for China as it develops into the cutting-edge country it hopes to become is that its people will truly treasure the women among them.

Beginning from birth, the women of China must know that they can indeed hold up their part of the sky.