We met Dorothy G.C. Quock, better known as Polkadot, at our opening party for Eat Chinatown. Living up to her name, she wore all kinds of polkadot.
She got her nickname at the Cameron House, a Presbyterian family and youth organization in Chinatown. There was another person named Dorothy, so the headmaster nicknamed her Polkadot, and it stuck. At the time, she didn’t wear much polkadot, but now it’s her signature look.
“I grew up here,” she said of Cameron House. Polkadot was in the first group of teens to join the youth program in 1947, when she was 13 years old. On Friday nights they held socials, where teens would learn about “the birds and the bees.” Dorothy also learned about civic responsibility and politics through the youth program. Although she’s no longer active in the religious aspect of the Cameron House, it taught her the importance of “outward change” and community work.
For Polkadot, that means preserving Chinatown history. She leads weekly tours of Chinatown through Wok Wiz and is a archival researcher and consultant on Forever Chinatown, a documentary on Chinatown history interpreted by artist Frank Wong.
She’s a portal to what Chinatown is and was. While we walked around Chinatown, Polkadot had a story to share every time we turned a corner.
“See that building? I was a house girl for a well-to-do engineer. My sister had the job first, but when she moved away I took over. He had these outfits he’d want us to serve in — Chinese brocade blouses. I learned how to mix martinis for dinner parties,” she said, recalling one of her many Chinatown memories.
Dorothy stayed with the Cameron House until she moved away for college. She spent so much time there her mother said, “Why don’t you move your bed there?”
Polkadot was born in 1934 in Chinatown to a family of nine. They lived in SRO’s and houses all over Chinatown — most of the time with 10 of them in one room. Before she’d graduated high school, they’d moved 11 times. “With so many of us, my mom probably got in a lot of arguments with neighbors,” she said.
Her dad worked as a rice deliveryman, dropping off 100 pound rice sacks to Chinatown businesses and residences. For the opening of CAAMFest, an Asian-American film festival, Dorothy took one of the old rice bags and turned it into a dress.
Her mother worked in a sewing factory, where she would bring Dorothy and her siblings to work at the Levi’s factory. “We first learned how to trim hems,” she said. “At 10, I mastered the button hole. We got 2 cents for every button hole we made.”
Child labor laws were not strongly enforced back then, so kids worked next to their mothers. There was always someone in front to keep watch for an inspector.
“They’d yell ‘gweilo’ [ghost man, a Cantonese derogatory term for someone of European descent] whenever a white guy came in and we would run into the bathrooms and hide until someone told us it was safe to come out,” she said. “It usually wasn’t a child labor inspector; it was usually a new employee that had come to pick up the finished jeans.”
Photos taken at the Cameron House (and their epic rooftop basketball court.) Many thanks to Polkadot and the Cameron House for hosting us.
Can’t believe we hadn’t met this character and SF Chinatown resident before, but there he was a few weeks ago, casually leaning up against a light pole on Grant Street. His cap was encrusted with enamel pins from his travels around the world.
Guan Cuixia, 74, sported a super wide-brimmed sun hat from China at The Food Pantry at St. Gregory’s Episcopal Church in Potrero Hill. She wears it everyday along with her thick knit gloves to prevent getting “too tan.” And that nice bob underneath her hat? She cuts it herself!
We also liked her color palette of dark lilac and muted green (the jacket, jade jewelry and the hem of her gloves!) A subtle but pleasing outfit.
Hoa Tran Lu, 83, a boss lady in blue. She looked powerful in her navy patterned outdoor pajama set, topped with an orange print scarf. Strong color combo!
Part of our series of portraits with the YWCA, which runs affordable housing for seniors in Chinatown.
Angela Chen, 75, exuded a certain kind of cool and command. I immediately wanted to call her “boss.” I loved her mix of colors topped off with a fancy cap. She’d recently rediscovered the sparkly embroidered cap she’d bought it in Thailand nearly two decades ago.
Originally from Taiwan, she worked at an immigration office in Oakland before retiring, and also picked up Cantonese and English on the job.
She called to thank me upon receiving her prints in the mail. “I think these are the sharpest photos I’ve ever had taken of me. Very very super!”
We ran into Buck Chew, 95, a charismatic and dapper Chinatown local with a penchant for colorful ties. He was on his way back from the grocery store picking up a few essentials. You may recognize him as Butterfly Buck from another post. We almost didn’t recognize him with this ladies sun hat (more like a halo)! But we saw that tie and noticed it was our old friend.
We helped him carry his bag of ginger and bok choy in and spent time time with his wife Len Wuey and daughter.
We asked about their keys to longevity. They rarely eat out and eat lots of fresh veggies, ginger and fish.
We spotted Victor Lee from across Columbus Park, a popular hangout spot for seniors to play Chinese chess, chill on park benches and exercise. Lee, 58, stood out among all the black parkas with his green knit cardigan.
A closer look revealed the delightful details: an orange polo shirt with a matching mesh jersey layered on top; a golden sphinx necklace which he adorned with a orange polka dot bow.
“It’s now in style,” he laughed, when we asked about his fashion sense. “Normally I wear a down jacket, but I wanted to be more fashionable.”
We looked down at his jeans and saw Chinese characters written in Sharpie on his pant leg. “What does that say?” we asked.
“Space culture,” he replied. “You know — the sky, airplanes, UFO’s.”
His catch phrases and quirkiness was seen all over his outfits — and we saw many variations of this over the course of our week in Manhattan.
Lee’s been in Chinatown since he was 10 and he’s a super local — during the day he moves from corner to corner, chasing the sun, smoking cigarettes.
One day he wore an U.S.A-themed hat with the American flag and bald eagles. There were a few of his signature Sharpie scribbles on them, one of which was the phrase “Golden Times,” a warming thought.
When we complimented him on his hat, he immediately offered to us. During our week in New York he also gave us White Rabbit candies and womens bracelets.
At one point during our walks around Chinatown, I saw a Sharpie drawing on a wooden wall. It was of two turtles with Chinese characters written on the side. Our translator said it read, “It is worth an entire city.” Did the author mean that turtles were literally worth the value of an entire metropolis? Was it a random phrase or an ancient Chinese proverb?
Either way, we figured out who the author was the next time we saw Victor, who had the same two turtles drawn on the America-themed hat he tried to give us; a gesture worth an entire city.