Unbound Feet: A Social History of Chinese Women in San Francisco (54 page)

The combined forces of race, class, and gender oppression hit us in the face as soon as we left the safe environment of Chinatown. Our parents had drilled education and hard work into us, but, as our predecessors also discovered, the promised rewards did not always materialize.
In high school, non-Chinese classmates sometimes made fun of our food
and customs, called us names like "Chink" or "Suzie Wong," and didn't
hesitate to beat us up if they felt like it. Although discrimination had
lessened after the war and educational and employment opportunities
were better than ever for the second generation (a larger proportion of
Chinese American women, as compared to white women, were graduating from college, and increasing numbers of Chinese American women
were moving up into the technical, sales, and professional fields), many
of us still carried the double burden of being a minority within a minority in the labor market. Our predecessors had paved the way for us
during the war by their proven efficiency as clerical workers in private
firms outside Chinatown. But now, stereotyped as obedient "office
wives," Chinese American women found themselves stuck at the clerical level, unable to move up the ladder into management. Women who
entered new fields of work, such as art, science, business, law, and literature, found they had to work twice as hard in order to he considered
equal. Statistics also showed that the earning power of Chinese American women was not commensurate with their level of education. In fact,
the better educated we became, the further our incomes fell behind relative to white men, white women, and Chinese American men with the
same educational background. Moreover, Chinese American women
were noticeably underrepresented in jobs that required public contact
and decision-making skills. There were more Chinese female accountants,
nurses, and health technicians than lawyers, business executives, and
physicians.'

Considering these limitations, it is not surprising that two of my sisters, Sharon and Patricia, got married right after finishing high school,
while Virginia and I took the traditional female routes of becoming a
schoolteacher and a librarian, respectively. Only Sandra followed a different drumbeat, choosing to pursue a master's degree in recreation and
become a playground director. Much to my parents' relief, all of us married Chinese Americans with secure jobs (interracial dating and marriage
were still taboo in the Chinatown community in the rg6os) and made
our homes in the San Francisco Bay Area. In contrast to my mother's
arranged marriage, however, all of us followed Western courtship and
Chinese American wedding customs. None of us married wealthy men;
as a result, we took on dual roles as wage earners and homemakers. Nev ertheless, compared to the previous generation, we led lives that were
much better balanced in terms of work, family, and social responsibilities; and our gender relations were much more companionate and equitable. As far as my parents were concerned, we had realized the American dream. We were part of the middle class, financially secure in our
jobs, and living in two-car-garage homes outside Chinatown.

Yet our complacency was about to be shaken. The civil rights movement of the z g 6os changed the course of history for all racial minorities, with reverberations felt by women, homosexuals, and the disabled
further down the road. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., preaching nonviolent civil disobedience, inspired black Americans and supporters all over
the country to demand civil rights and social justice. Their peaceful
demonstrations, as well as the riots that soon engulfed our cities, pressured Congress to pass legislation that prohibited discrimination in public accommodations, employment, and electoral politics. In an attempt
to remedy past discriminatory practices, affirmative action programs were
instituted to encourage increased representation of minorities in both
the private and public sectors. Under President Lyndon B. Johnson's
Great Society program, federal funds were allocated to provide social
services to poverty-stricken minority communities. The black power
movement further shook up the country, instilling in racial minorities a
new sense of ethnic pride.

Among the inspired and the empowered were Chinese Americans.
Those of us attending college at the time reached a new awareness of
racial and class oppression in our own lives and of its links to other Third
World communities within and countries outside the United States.
Moved to act on our political consciousness, we banded together with
blacks, Chicanos, Native Americans, and other Asian Americans to demand racial justice, an end to the Vietnam War, and the establishment
of ethnic studies at San Francisco State College and the University of
California, Berkeley. Many of us returned to Chinatown as community
activists to organize and agitate for improvements in the working and
living conditions there.' One piece of liberal legislation to come out of
the civil rights period was the Immigration and Naturalization Act of
1965. As a direct result of that act, the Chinese American population
doubled between 1960 and 1970, and again in the next decade, and the
sex ratio finally approached parity (see appendix table 1). With priority
going to family reunification, many of the new immigrants from the
Guangdong area chose to settle in Chinatown, compounding already
existing ghetto conditions. The mass media and the Chinatown estab lishment could no longer mask the fact that the community was undergoing tremendous social transformation as a result of increased immigration and that social problems of juvenile delinquency, labor exploitation, poor housing, and mental illness were threatening to break
the calm face of the gilded ghetto, San Francisco's most prized tourist
attraction.

Unlike earlier immigrants, the large numbers of women and families
who came after the 1965 act benefited from the antipoverty programs
that were established under the Johnson administration. Newly created
federally funded agencies such as the Economic Opportunity Council,
Chinese Newcomers Service Center, and Self-Help for the Elderly
helped the newcomers learn English, acquire job skills, and adapt to life
in America. In addition, a number of grass-roots organizations such as
the Chinese Progressive Association and Asian Community Center took
up the task of addressing political and labor issues in the community. In
contrast to the male-dominated, conservative Chinatown establishment,
these new organizations were often headed by bilingual Chinese Americans-many of them women-who knew how to utilize protest tactics
and government funding to achieve social gains. Indeed, the 1970s saw
a resurgence of the political left in Chinatown, which openly challenged
the Guomindang-controlled status quo. Demonstrations became a common occurrence as immigrant and American-born men and women
worked together to demand a fair share of public funding for needed
social services or to protest poor working conditions in Chinatown restaurants and garment shops. The 1974 strike against the Great Chinese
American (Jung Sai) Company, owned by Esprit de Corps, lasted longer
than even the 193 8 strike against National Dollar Stores. More than one
hundred garment workers and their supporters picketed the factory for
six months to protest unsanitary working conditions and interference
with union activities. Like National Dollar Stores, Esprit responded by
shutting the plant down. This time, with the help of the ILGWU, the
women workers persisted in fighting their employer in the courts; they
finally won a favorable settlement nine years later in 1983.

Although quite aware of the women's liberation movement, which
followed on the heels of the civil rights movement, few Chinese American women joined in, primarily because the movement generally ignored
the concerns of minority and working-class women. Nevertheless, many
Chinese American women benefited from the feminists' campaign for
equal pay, the widening of career choices, and the improved image gained
for women as a group. Considered "double minorities," we were often sought after by universities and employers to fill affirmative action quotas in fields such as broadcast journalism, academia, construction, and
law enforcement. Combined with our keen awareness of the revolutionary role of women in Communist Chula, who reputedly held up "half
of heaven," the image of the liberated American woman moved us to
take pride in our identity as Chinese American women and to link up
with other Asian American and Third World women to address common issues of concern. Others of us were motivated to break our silence, reclaim our history, come out of the closet, and express ourselves
in creative ways, whether it be in writing, film, dance, art, or music.

Thanks in part to the valuable training ground of minority and
women's political movements and in part to improved U.S.-Chinese relations, the 197os also saw a boost in the status of Chinese American
women and their increased participation in community and mainstream
politics. Events in China continued to influence our status, political ideals,
and self-esteem. The normalization of relations between China and the
United States meant not only a reconnection to the homeland, but also
a more positive attitude toward Chinese culture and Chinese Americans
on the part of the American public. During the 1970s, many community activists urged that we emulate China's progressive policies regarding the status of women and the working class. Thus encouraged, Chinese American women became increasingly active in mainstream politics
as contributors, campaigners, and political candidates. California secretary of state March Fong Eu led the way when she became the first Chinese American woman to hold a state office in 1974. She was followed
by Lillian Sing, who was appointed California Municipal Court judge in
1981; Julie Tang, who was elected to the San Francisco Community College Board in 1981; Mabel Teng, who was elected to the San Francisco
Board of Supervisors in 1994; and Angie Fa, the first Chinese American lesbian to join the San Francisco School Board in 199z.

All of these changes have certainly made a difference for women like
my mother, who today basks in her retirement, comfortable in her paidoff North Beach flat and surrounded by pictures of her grandchildren
who have finished college and have families of their own. As a senior
citizen, she takes advantage of the discounted bus fares and senior meals.
She has also become an avid television fan because of the many Cantonese programs now available to immigrants like herself. With more time
to pursue her own interests and contribute to her community, she is an
active elder in the Chinese Independent Baptist church, in charge of making home visits to members in need. On her own, she has also joined tour groups and traveled to Europe, Mexico, Canada, Japan, and the
Holy Land. When I asked her if she was glad she had come to America, she first echoed Great-Grandmother's sentiments: "To me, life was
a lot easier in Macao. Life was so hectic here with so many children born
close together and no help. America was not the heaven I expected it
to be." But on further reflection, she said: "I have since traveled around
a bit, and to me, America is the best country to live in. Why? Because
we have our freedom here, the weather's better than in China, and food
is cheap and plentiful. No matter where I go, there is no place like San
Francisco."

The groundwork laid by our foremothers for a better life at home, in
the workplace, and in the larger society has not been lost on today's generation of Chinese American women. Despite media reports of our success as a model minority group, we are painfully aware that racism and
sexism must still be combatted, that not all of us have attained the American dream of equality and socioeconomic success. Consciously aware
of how race, class, and gender intersect in our lives, we follow in our
mothers' footsteps, doing what we can to improve the overall quality of
life for ourselves, for our children, and for all.