Rise of the At-Risk Chinatown
(photos: police officer; Goddess of Democracy statue; Comfort Women statues)
In the 1970s, non-profits were empowering Chinatown residents to speak up. It was a crucial time. Self-Help for the Elderly, On Lok senior services, the Youth Services Center, and the Chinatown Community Development Center, still thriving today, mobilized and educated its citizens. The ensuing decades saw the end of the Chinese gangs as law enforcement stepped up with the Gang Task Force. When the gangs dissipated, thieves (not of Asian descent) from adjacent neighborhoods started attacking elderly grandmothers also referred to as “walking ATMS.” Thugs would follow an old woman exiting from a bank and demand the cash from her purse. The San Francisco Police Department intervened and wisely added a few bilingual Chinese officers on the force. Over time, the SFPD built relationships and trust with the locals so they would not feel hesitant to report such crimes.
In the 1980s and until the close of the 20th century, this historic enclave would weather more trials. Newer and trendier Asian shopping centers around the Bay Area gave local Chinese fewer reasons to visit. The Loma Prieta earthquake of 1989 collapsed the Embarcadero freeway artery that spilled into the community. The loss of this central route made it horribly inconvenient for customers to drive into the neighborhood, so they went elsewhere. Various merchants reported plummeting sales of 30 to 50 percent and higher. To make matters worse, the popularity of the Internet meant that anything offered in a Chinatown souvenir shop could be purchased online.
Newspapers labelled the area no longer relevant, but Chinatown soldiered on. Restaurants changed hands. Children of elderly shop owners took the reins out of paternal obligation. Landlords, retirement-ready, sold Chinatown’s commercial and residential interests to the highest bidder. Although family associations, politicians, and non-profits chimed in with different plans on what to do next, one thing was certain: Chinatown had to change to survive.
In the next decade, Chinatown boldly asserted itself. Chinatown sculptures would take social-political stands. At Portsmouth Square, the torch-wielding Goddess of Democracy looks oddly familiar. Dedicated in 1994, the bronze replica is based on the statue created during the 1989 Tiananmen Square student protest in China. At St. Mary’s Square, the Comfort Women memorial shows three young women, representing the Philippines, Korea, and China, holding hands as an elderly Asian woman helplessly looks on. The statue honors the tens of thousands of women forced into sex slavery to serve the Japanese soldiers before and during WWII.
Rise of the At-Risk Chinatown
(photos: police officer; Goddess of Democracy statue; Comfort Women statues)
In the 1970s, non-profits were empowering Chinatown residents to speak up. It was a crucial time. Self-Help for the Elderly, On Lok senior services, the Youth Services Center, and the Chinatown Community Development Center, still thriving today, mobilized and educated its citizens. The ensuing decades saw the end of the Chinese gangs as law enforcement stepped up with the Gang Task Force. When the gangs dissipated, thieves (not of Asian descent) from adjacent neighborhoods started attacking elderly grandmothers also referred to as “walking ATMS.” Thugs would follow an old woman exiting from a bank and demand the cash from her purse. The San Francisco Police Department intervened and wisely added a few bilingual Chinese officers on the force. Over time, the SFPD built relationships and trust with the locals so they would not feel hesitant to report such crimes.
In the 1980s and until the close of the 20th century, this historic enclave would weather more trials. Newer and trendier Asian shopping centers around the Bay Area gave local Chinese fewer reasons to visit. The Loma Prieta earthquake of 1989 collapsed the Embarcadero freeway artery that spilled into the community. The loss of this central route made it horribly inconvenient for customers to drive into the neighborhood, so they went elsewhere. Various merchants reported plummeting sales of 30 to 50 percent and higher. To make matters worse, the popularity of the Internet meant that anything offered in a Chinatown souvenir shop could be purchased online.
Newspapers labelled the area no longer relevant, but Chinatown soldiered on. Restaurants changed hands. Children of elderly shop owners took the reins out of paternal obligation. Landlords, retirement-ready, sold Chinatown’s commercial and residential interests to the highest bidder. Although family associations, politicians, and non-profits chimed in with different plans on what to do next, one thing was certain: Chinatown had to change to survive.
In the next decade, Chinatown boldly asserted itself. Chinatown sculptures would take social-political stands. At Portsmouth Square, the torch-wielding Goddess of Democracy looks oddly familiar. Dedicated in 1994, the bronze replica is based on the statue created during the 1989 Tiananmen Square student protest in China. At St. Mary’s Square, the Comfort Women memorial shows three young women, representing the Philippines, Korea, and China, holding hands as an elderly Asian woman helplessly looks on. The statue honors the tens of thousands of women forced into sex slavery to serve the Japanese soldiers before and during WWII.
Rise of the American Born Chinese
(photos: Grant Avenue follies dancers; Sun Yat-sen statue)
Freely embracing American culture, Chinese entered the entertainment business. Chinese American nightclubs sprang up in Chinatown and on the outskirts with Chinese crooners whose voices reminded guests of Frank Sinatra. The most illustrious, the Forbidden City, boasted dancing and variety shows until the wee hours. Hollywood’s top stars, including comedian Bob Hope and movie star Ronald Reagan, flocked to see tuxedo-ed singers, costumed dancers, female impersonators, and comics who entertained in perfect English.
Shows mirrored the American stage and Silver Screen -- Larry Chan was billed as the Chinese Bing Crosby; dance team Dorothy Toy and Paul Wing were the equivalent of an Asian Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers; Colleen Li Tei Ming sang Irish ballads. The Forbidden City was so popular that non-Chinese clamored to showcase their talents by taking on Chinese stage names. The glory days, from the 1930s to 1960s, delivered four decades of rare memories for artists and patrons.
Meanwhile, Chinese immigrants were keeping close tabs on their beloved homeland. Dr. Sun Yat-Sen, founder of the Kuomintang political party with a pro-democracy platform, won supporters in Chinatown. He was so revered that the Chinese in San Francisco and many other U.S. cities freely gave funds to his cause to overthrow ancient dynastic rule. In honor of the first president of the Republic of China and Dr. Sun Yat-Sen’s visit to San Francisco, businesses commissioned a statue of him in 1938, which still stands today in St. Mary’s Square on California Street.
Rise of the American Born Chinese
(photos: Grant Avenue follies dancers; Sun Yat-sen statue)
Freely embracing American culture, Chinese entered the entertainment business. Chinese American nightclubs sprang up in Chinatown and on the outskirts with Chinese crooners whose voices reminded guests of Frank Sinatra. The most illustrious, the Forbidden City, boasted dancing and variety shows until the wee hours. Hollywood’s top stars, including comedian Bob Hope and movie star Ronald Reagan, flocked to see tuxedo-ed singers, costumed dancers, female impersonators, and comics who entertained in perfect English.
Shows mirrored the American stage and Silver Screen -- Larry Chan was billed as the Chinese Bing Crosby; dance team Dorothy Toy and Paul Wing were the equivalent of an Asian Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers; Colleen Li Tei Ming sang Irish ballads. The Forbidden City was so popular that non-Chinese clamored to showcase their talents by taking on Chinese stage names. The glory days, from the 1930s to 1960s, delivered four decades of rare memories for artists and patrons.
Meanwhile, Chinese immigrants were keeping close tabs on their beloved homeland. Dr. Sun Yat-Sen, founder of the Kuomintang political party with a pro-democracy platform, won supporters in Chinatown. He was so revered that the Chinese in San Francisco and many other U.S. cities freely gave funds to his cause to overthrow ancient dynastic rule. In honor of the first president of the Republic of China and Dr. Sun Yat-Sen’s visit to San Francisco, businesses commissioned a statue of him in 1938, which still stands today in St. Mary’s Square on California Street.
ANTI-CHINESE SENTIMENT
By the late 1800s, anti-Chinese sentiment was fomenting. States and cities began imposing restrictions and taxes on this unwanted race, hoping all Chinese would return to China permanently. Discriminatory laws stifled the Chinatown community. Facing mockery and jeering on a routine basis, such marginalization steadily chipped away at immigrant’s identities, making them feel ashamed of their heritage, practices, and language. Some would later hire tutors to strip them of their Chinese accents when they spoke English.
Anglo-American workers blamed the Chinese for taking away jobs in the mines, railroads, and factories. (Ironically, these non-Chinese laborers originally didn’t want such base employment). They lobbied political heavyweights in Washington D.C. and succeeded in launching the country’s first laws singling out a specific minority group. Enter the landmark Chinese Exclusion Act of 1882 which banned immigration of Chinese laborers for ten years and forbade citizenship through naturalization. The act was extended repeatedly under different names. The only Chinese allowed to enter included merchants, students, teachers, diplomats, and travelers.
The pioneering efforts of Presbyterian missionary Margaret Culbertson and, later, Donaldina Cameron, brought rescue to over 3,000 young women and girls. They were given shelter and life skills to integrate into society at Chinatown’s Occidental Mission Home, renamed Donaldina Cameron House in 1942. Also helping to set Chinatown on a better footing were other like-minded mission homes and churches formed in the late 1800s. The Old St. Mary’s Church and Chinese Mission served the poor with food and clothing. The Chinese Methodist Episcopal Mission offered shelter for homeless girls and trafficked women.
Discrimination grew uglier, however, when the 1892 Geary Act forced Chinese to carry residency papers with them at all times or face arrest. The consequences were either deportation or a year of hard labor. Some Chinese leaders were so incensed they charged that this requirement was equivalent to wearing a dog tag. The new law also barred Chinese from testifying in court even if someone were to be murdered in front of their very eyes.
Not all Chinese Americans would swallow their bitterness. Activist groups rose. In 1895, the Chinese American Citizens Alliance was created to protest the Chinese Exclusion Act, the Geary Act, and every anti-Chinese law. It was the first organization started by American-born Chinese who were articulate and educated, debunking the myth that the race was illiterate and weak.
Chinese newspaper editors in Chinatown stood up to embolden their people. Chinese civil rights activist and minister Dr. Ng Poon Chew embarked upon a nationwide lecture circuit to rally for immigration reform and wrote essays pointing out the inhumanity of the current laws in Chung Sai Yat Po. This was the most influential newspaper of the time where he was publisher. Another powerful advocate was Walter U. Lum, the founder of the Chinese Times. He campaigned fastidiously for Chinese rights and supported the boycott of American goods in China.
As the United States and China became allies during WWII, China’s officials were fuming over their countrymen’s treatment. To appease the Chinese government and maintain a positive relationship between the United States and China, by 1943, federal legislators finally repealed the Chinese Exclusion Act, signaling the end to institutionalized racism lasting more than sixty years. However, this was more of a token gesture. The repeal invoked a quota system that permitted only 105 Chinese to enter per year from anywhere in the world.
As intended, life for Chinatown inhabitants was depressing and joyless. As the majority of immigrants were men, they were barred from marrying outside the race, yet were not allowed to bring their Chinese wives from China to America. The Page Act of 1875 limited the number of Chinese women who could enter, for it was assumed they were coming to the United States for prostitution. Immigration officials battered applicants with series of interrogation questions. Inconsistent or incomplete answers were grounds for rejection.
In these “bachelor societies,” the males become isolated and psychologically trapped. And marrying a white woman was out of the question. California’s anti-miscegenation laws forbade interracial marriage until 1948. If they dared to venture outside the boundaries, they risked lynching. If they sailed back to China, returning to America was not guaranteed. The men turned to gambling and smoking opium to assuage their loneliness.
They also turned to brothels. This was perfectly normal in San Francisco at the time. These houses of ill repute, white and Chinese brothels, were legal until 1917.
In fact, the flesh trade was a booming business and demand was high. Human traffickers, smuggled in young Chinese women, either by hiding them in crates or having them pretend to be merchants’ wives or daughters. Among the most notorious was Little Pete, who was born in China, and quickly learned enough English to work the network between China and San Francisco. Known as yellow slave traders, cunning criminals such as Little Pete ordered girls to be kidnapped or purchased from China for domestic slavery. However, lifting the darkness for these women and children were Christian churches and missions rooted in Chinatown. Churches had been planted during Chinatown’s formative stages, offering support with English language classes for men and women and church services in mother tongues. And now, their mission would expand to embrace social justice.