Support Chinatown during COVID-19.
Happy Tuesday,
We're continuing our ongoing coverage of COVID-19 by analyzing the impact of anti-Asian racism on small businesses, mainly restaurants, in Chinatown. Jami shares stories and insights from the communities impacted and outlines how we can help.
Speaking of help, thank you all for helping our work grow. Thanks to you and Jami, we're bringing on an influx of new writers to offer fresh perspectives. If you haven't already, consider making a contribution. You can give on our website, PayPal, Venmo (@nicoleacardoza), or subscribe monthly on Patreon.
Nicole
TAKE ACTION
Support your local Chinatown. If you’ve never been, do some research to find out the perfect place to order from. Don’t be constrained by what’s available on apps—to find the best food, you’re probably going to have to make a phone call.
Read the stories in Resy’s extensive “Welcome to Chinatown, USA” series. Each is a love letter to a food or restaurant in Chinatowns across the country.
Broaden your understanding of Chinese American history and culture beyond just food.
GET EDUCATED
By Jami Nakamura Lin (she/her)
Like many other Asian Americans, when I first heard about the novel coronavirus ravaging Wuhan, China, I was afraid. Our fear was not just of the potential reach of the disease, but of what being Asian American, particularly Chinese American, would mean in a country prone to xenophobia, racism, and hysteria. I remembered the white college friend who, upon greeting me, would say, “Eww, don’t touch me—you probably have bird flu.” For him, this was a recurring bit; for me, it was a bite.
His “joke” recalled all those old stereotypes associated with the Chinese in America—that we carry disease, that we are dirty—that the coronavirus brought again to the forefront. (I wrote at length about coronavirus, fear, contagion, and Asian America in another essay.)
“The outbreak has had a decidedly dehumanizing effect, reigniting old strains of racism and xenophobia that frame Chinese people as uncivilized, barbaric “others” who bring with them dangerous, contagious diseases and an appetite for dogs, cats, and other animals outside the norms of Occidental diets. These ideas [are] perennially the subtext behind how Chinese people are viewed by the Western gaze.”
-Jenny G. Zhang in Eater
In those early months, fear arrived in the United States long before the virus did. This fear was wielded as a weapon, as evidenced by all stories of Asian Americans being spat on, jumped, shouted at, as we wrote about in a previous newsletter. But beyond those individual stories, you can just look at what happened to Chinatowns across the country.
Before the first cases ever arrived in New York City, fear of the virus made Chinatown business drop 50-70% (NYTimes), a number that replicated in Chinatowns across the United States (Eater) and in other Western nations. And it wasn’t just Chinatown—other restaurants owned and operated by Asian Americans started declining as early as December or January (KQED). The timing was especially poor: this happened around the Lunar New Year when Chinese restaurants pull in most of their business.
“At New Year’s, we had our 121st Golden Dragon Parade celebration, and only like 10 percent of the people showed up. The virus didn’t have anything to do with Chinatown, but it being associated as an Asian thing by the president, people just got that phobia about it.”
-Glenn SooHoo, owner of a small business in Los Angeles’s Chinatown (National Geographic)
“It was a fall-off-the-cliff kind of decline,” the owner of Hang Ah Tea Room in San Francisco told NPR’s Bay Area affiliate KQED. Several restaurants have closed permanently; others are unsure how long they can survive. The loss of some of these restaurants would mean losing pieces of our history and culture. Hang Ah Tea Room is the country’s oldest dim sum house, and one hundred years after its opening, the owner had to lay off over half his staff, most of them new immigrants (KQED).
But Chinatowns have faced very similar xenophobia before. During the 19th century, their residents were blamed for smallpox outbreaks. “The city health officer ordered the fumigation of every house in Chinatown,” writes Melissa Hung (San Francisco Chronicle). “Yet the epidemic raged on. Unable to account for the epidemic’s severity, he doubled down on his belief that “treacherous Chinamen” had caused it.”
The first Chinatown developed in San Francisco during the influx of Chinese immigrants during the Gold Rush in the 1800s. “These men were bachelors who needed sleeping quarters, clean clothes, and hot meals after long days of grueling labor; this [led] to a proliferation of housing, laundry services, and restaurants in burgeoning, Chinese-centric neighborhoods,” writes Rachel Ng (National Geographic). But, she adds, they also grew out of necessity, as they were not welcome in many other places. “After the abolition of slavery, Chinese immigrants provided a cheap source of labor, leading to resentment from the white working class.”
After the Gold Rush, Chinese immigrants found all kinds of work, most famously on the railroads. (Learn more about their work on the transcontinental railroad through the Smithsonian’s online exhibit Forgotten Workers). But anti-Chinese sentiment grew among white Americans, and in 1882, President Arthur signed the first Chinese Exclusion Act, barring almost all Chinese from entering the country (Chinese Historical Society of America). It was America’s first race-based immigration law.
Such stereotypes and discrimination have also shaped how many Chinese restaurants run and what kind of food they serve today. White Americans usually don’t view Chinese food as fancy or refined; they’re not used to paying a higher price point (NPR). Therefore, Chinese restaurants often use a high-volume, low-margin business model. Without a high volume of patrons, they are hit extra hard. Additionally, most restaurants in Chinatowns are small businesses, some owned and operated by generations of a single family. Few used apps like GrubHub before the coronavirus, so they were at a disadvantage when the pandemic struck (Fortune).
📰 Read about the model minority myth in our previous newsletter.
If all our Chinatowns make it through, it will be because of the resilience of the community. “Chinatown has a history of surviving adversities, with several indications the neighborhood will weather this one, too,” writes Melissa Hung (San Francisco Chronicle). Even during these difficult times, the community has banded together. Feed and Fuel Chinatown, an initiative from San Francisco’s Chinatown Community Development Center, delivered over 120,000 free meals to people living in public housing or SROs throughout COVID-19 (Chinatown CDC).
In August, Chicago’s Chinatown had “signs of a modest rebound,” said Kevin Pang (Resy). “Outdoor seating has been installed in Chinatown Square, and virtually everyone wears face masks.” When I went, it wasn’t nearly as busy as pre-pandemic, but neither was it a ghost town. There were signs of life. So when you choose to order food, remember to support the restaurants coronavirus hit first and hardest. Support our Chinatowns.
KEY TAKEAWAYS
The coronavirus revived our country’s long history of anti-Chinese racism.
In Chinatowns across the country, restaurant business dropped 50-70%, even before the shutdowns (Eater).
The first Chinatown developed in San Francisco during the influx of Chinese immigrants during the Gold Rush in the 1800s.
In 1882, the president signed the Chinese Exclusion Act, the first race-based immigration law (Chinese Historical Society of America).
RELATED ISSUES
9/8/2020 | Reject the model minority myth.
8/16/2020 | Think before eating out.
7/27/2020 | Support Asian Americans through COVID-19.
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