Chinese in America
Upon recommendation from my good friend, Linda Chu, I’m currently reading Chinese In America, by Iris Chang.
We’ve both always liked history, but her referral came after the publication of the New Yorker article, “The Two Asian Americas,” by Karan Mahajan, which I believe was a timely reaction to the New York Times op-ed, “The Asian Advantage,” by Nicholas Kristof.
In comparison to Kristof’s article that reinforced the unhelpful stereotype of Asian Americans as the model minority, Mahajan gives a more in depth analysis to the history of Asian Americans. When I told Linda of my appreciation of the historical background in the book, she suggested Chinese in America.
Here are some snippets that got me thinking:
These snippets are from Chang’s introduction about the book.
“The mass media have projected contradictory images that either dehumanize or demonize the Chinese, with the implicit message that the Chinese represent either a servile class to be exploited, or an enemy force to be destroyed. This has created identity issues for generations of American-born Chines: a sense of feeling different, or alien in other own country; of subjected to greater scrutiny and judged by higher standards than the general populace.”
“Another important theme has been the struggle of Chinese Americans for justice. A long history of political activism belies the myth that Chinese Americans have stood by and suffered abuse as silent, passive victims. Instead from the very beginning, they fought racial discrimination in the courts, thereby creating a solid foundation of civil rights law in this country, often to the benefit of other minorities...”
Wonderful personification and imagery about Qing governance in China as she sets the foreground about the place where Chinese Americans originated.
“The government was bloated, increasingly inefficient and ineffective at controlling a growing and restless population.”
The next passage is a description of Chinese prisons in the Qing dynasty that made me questioned the accuracy of every ancient series that Hong Kong and Mainland Chinese produced that I have seen.
“A Chinese prison was the last place anyone wanted to go. Conditions for the incarcerated in China exposed the depths of cruelty of the Qing dynasty. People were caged like animals, left in filth, dying from disease. Men were often left chained to decaying corpses, forgotten by the wardens. A mobile version of jail was the cangue, a cage in which the victim would be paraded before jeering crowds in the streets. A small opening cut into the bars at the top permitted the prisoner’s head to be drawn up for the display to the crowds; each rough jostle would throw his neck against the jagged edges.”
This description is definitely more cruel than the large cages displayed in the television series.
After reading her book, I have read A Larger Memory by Ronald Takaki, Making of Asian America by Erika Lee, and am currently reading The Chinese Question by Mae Ngai. They are all historians that drew connections over time and analyzed the changes across continents and governing bodies, but I keep wondering what made Iris Chang take her own life...No one’s life is quite the same, but after learning about Chang’s fate, there is a lingering sadness every time I think of her. Is it a warning of the unpleasantness that academia and research sometimes entails?
I had just attended the Asian American / Asian Research Institute 2022 Gala and I was definitely fangirling over all the scholars of the papers I have read, but instead of fangirling, perhaps, I could’ve taken more courage and embraced the tomfoolery of speaking with people I respect. I eventually did speak to Joyce Moy who was retiring after 20 years of service - without AAARI, I would have never been more encouraged to conduct independent research in during my Master’s program, as well as see the impact of research on the community and policy. I have to thank the LaGuardia Community College graduate and rising Hunter College Environmental Science student, Naurene, who encouraged me to speak with her instead of fangirling.
From the action, I felt emboldened to speak to Kevin Nadal, who is also another scholar and advocate that I first learned about after reading about microagressions.
Galas aren’t the best place to speak about research, especially when you are competing with the busyness of a multiple course Chinese banquet style dinner, bustling and hustling waitstaff, bad acoustics, but it was fun nonetheless to celebrate Joyce’s service while also laugh with the students and staff. I’m glad I made it even in the chaos and messiness of the event. Perhaps the gala is a metaphor of how it feels to be academia: even when folks are celebrating the brilliance of strides in meaningful research, a lot is missed in the chaos and messiness of life. That and perhaps, they can pick a different venue...perhaps a more pan-Asian catering possibility, instead of just Chinese focus - that would be the best and embody more of the essence of pan-Asian solidarity and coalition building.
-- Joyce
[Original draft written on November 06, 2015.]
