Unbound Feet: A Social History of Chinese Women in San Francisco (2 page)

For political reasons, I use the term Asian American instead of Oriental and do not hyphenate Chinese American even when
used as an adjective. During the zg6os, Chinese and Japanese Americans came to recognize Oriental as a derogatory name that connotes exoticism and inferiority. The term Asian American became the preferred
name in recognition of the group's common history of oppression, geographical origins, and political destiny. The hyphen was eliminated because it inferred that Chinese Americans have split identities, that somehow they are not fully American like everyone else. For the same reason
and to be consistent, I do not use the hyphen when referring to any ethnic American group.

I call the first generation to come to the United States immigrants
and their children who were born in the United States second generation
or American-born Chinese. When referring to both groups, I use either
Chinese in America or Chinese Americans, especially when I need to differentiate them from Chinese people in China. For example, when comparing women in China and Chinese women in America, I use Chinese
women for the former group and Chinese American women for the latter. Overseas Chinese is used instead of Chinese Americans when the reference point is in China.

In regard to racial and ethnic terms, I use what is generally preferred
by the groups themselves: black, Asian American, Native American, and
Chicano. Depending on the time period under discussion, I use either
Mexican or Chicano; racial minority or Third World; minority women
or women of color. In a racial context, I generally use white instead of
European American. Otherwise, I try to be ethnic specific in identifying the group by using Italian American, German American, Jewish American, etc. The term America should be understood as an abbreviated form of United States of America. To be Americanized is to become acculturated but not necessarily assimilated into American life. To
avoid the trap of associating the dominant white group with everything
that is American, Western is preferred over American when the reference is to cultural practices; thus, Western dress, not American dress.

Following standard practice, I use the Pinyin romanization system for
Chinese proper nouns, except in cases where the names have been commonly spelled in a different romanization system. For common words
and phrases in the Cantonese dialect or direct quotes from Cantonesespeaking persons, 1 use the Cantonese spelling.

When using a person's Chinese name, I follow Chinese practice by
giving the surname (family name) first, followed by the given name, without an intervening comma. For example, in the name Tom Yip Jing, Tom
is the surname, and Yip Jing, the given name. Without meaning to be
disrespectful, I generally use the person's given name instead of his or
her last name whenever I refer to that individual more than once in the
text. Since many Chinese Americans share the same surname, I adopted
this practice to avoid confusion. The appearance of Shee in a woman's
name indicates that she is married. For example, a woman with the maiden
name of Law who married into the Low family would thenceforth be
known as Law Shee Low.

Finally, although it is standard practice to indicate spelling and grammatical errors in quoted passages by the use of "[sic]," I chose to forgo
doing so in many instances in order to remain faithful to the exact wording and style of speech, and to avoid interrupting the flow of the conversation.

The making of Unbound Feet-from its initial conception
as a dissertation topic over ten years ago, through the laborious research,
analysis, and writing phases, and finally to completion as a published
book-would not have been possible without the generous support and
assistance of many individuals and institutions. The research could not
have been carried out without the help of Chester Chan, Gordon Chang,
Barbara Ige, David W. Lee, Franklin Lee, Sharon Owyang, Col. William
Strobridge, Wang Xing Chu, Shelley Wong, Angela Chang of the Gum
Moon Women's Residence, Rosemary Chan of the Square and Circle
Club, Yeeling Fong of the International Institute of San Francisco, Teresa
Wu of the Chinese YWCA, Wei Chi Poon of the Asian American Studies Library at the University of California, Berkeley, Waverly Lowell of
the National Archives in San Bruno, and the staffs of the San Francisco
Public Library, Bancroft Library at the University of California, Berkeley, the Labor Archives and Research Center, San Francisco State University, Interlibrary Loan Department at McHenry Library at the University of California, Santa Cruz, and the Hoover Institution on War,
Revolution, and Peace at Stanford University. Special thanks go to
Sucheng Chan for sharing her data from the z goo and 19 r o manuscript
censuses; Peggy Pascoe for her copious notes from the case files of
Cameron House; Philip P. Choy for his personal copy of the Chinese
YWCA board minutes and staff reports; and Him Mark Lai for use of
his private collection on Chinese American history.

As oral history forms the core of this study, I am especially grateful
to the many Chinese American women who entrusted me with their life
stories and the men who provided me with their insights of San Francisco Chinatown: June Chan, Rena Jung Chung, Richard Kock Dare, Marietta Chong Eng, Alice Sue Fun, Maggie Gee, May Lew Gee, Gladys
Ng Gin, Penny Chan Huey, Bessie Hung, Ruth Chan Jang, Jew Law
Ying, Francis Jong, Florence Chinn Kwan, Clara Lee, Ira Lee, Jane Kwong
Lee, Lim P. Lee, Louise Schulze Lee, Lucy Lee, Mickey Lee, Stanley
Lee, Sue Ko Lee, Law Shee Low, Eva Lowe, May Mock, Helen Pon
Onyett, Edwin Owyang, Fred Schulze, Charlotte Sexton, Martha Taam,
Dora Lee Wong, Helen Hong Wong, Wong Shee Chan, Wong Wee Ying,
Margaret Woo, Jessie Lee Yip, and Alice Fong Yu.

For their expert and technical assistance, I wish to acknowledge Chris
Huie for the photo reproductions, Ellen Yeung for translations from Chinese into English, Wang Xing Chu for typing the Chinese glossary, Gary
Kawaguchi for inputting the i 9 zo census data, and the staffs at the Word
Processing Center, University of California, Santa Cruz, for setting the
statistical tables and at the University of California Press for guiding the
publication process.

Many of my colleagues did close readings of early drafts of this study
and gave me helpful suggestions for improving the text. I want to thank
Tomas Almaguer, Bettina Aptheker, Michael Cowan, John Dizikes, Dana
Frank, Marge Frantz, Gail Hershatter, Elaine H. Kim, Ann Lane, Susan
Mann, Franklin Ng, Forrest Robinson, Mary P. Ryan, Ronald Takaki,
and Ling-chi Wang. The book also benefited from the critical comments
of publisher reviewers, including Mari Jo Buhle, Roger Daniels, Ramon
Gutierrez, and Valerie Matsumoto. For guiding my thinking and giving
me incisive, critical feedback through every stage of this book, I am especially grateful to Him Mark Lai, Ruthanne Lum McCunn, Peggy Pascoe, and William Wei.

Last but not least, my greatest thanks go to Sandy Lee for her sisterly
support and encouragement, and to Smokey for being such an affectionate furball throughout this project.

Research for this book was supported by an American Fellowship from
the American Association of University Women Educational Foundation, a U.C. Affirmative Action Dissertation Year Fellowship from the
Graduate Division of the University of California, Berkeley, and faculty
research funds granted by the University of California, Santa Cruz.

For years I assumed that my parents were among the first
generation to come to the United States-my father in 19zi, and my
mother later, in 1941-and that I was a second-generation Chinese
American, born and raised in San Francisco. Only after I began researching Chinese American women's history and my own family history did I discover that I was really the third generation on my father's
side and the fourth generation on my mother's side. How this came about
is a history lesson in itself, a lesson that I believe offers insights into Chinese immigration patterns and the different experiences of Chinese
women from those of men.

Political upheavals and conditions of poverty at home drove many
young men from the Pearl River delta in Southeast China to immigrate
to the United States after gold was discovered in California. Among them
were my maternal great-grandfather, Chin Lung (a.k.a. Chin Hong Dai)
and my paternal grandfather, Tom Fat Kwong. Both came alone without their families in search of a better livelihood: Chin Lung in 1882,
Tom Fat Kwong in 191 Because of cultural restrictions, economic considerations, and immigration laws that specifically excluded them, few
Chinese women came to the United States on their own or to join their
husbands during these years.

Chin Lung immigrated right before the passage of the Chinese Exclusion Act of 1882, which barred the further entry of Chinese laborers. He was hardworking and rather resourceful. Within six years he had
learned to speak English and saved enough money-sacking rice at the
Sing Kee store in San Francisco Chinatown and, later, engaging in tenant farming with fellow villagers in the Sacramento-San Joaquin Deltato go home and marry.' In this way, he was luckier than most other Chi nese laborers, who never made enough to return home and instead lived
a bachelor existence in Chinatown enclaves devoid of traditional family
life. There were few Chinese women in America for them to marry, and
antimiscegenation laws prohibited intermarriage between whites and
Chinese.