Unbound Feet: A Social History of Chinese Women in San Francisco

by Judy Yung

  King Yoak Won Wu, whose family was strongly influenced by Chinese nationalism and Christianity, claimed to be among the first Chinese women to have a Western wedding, in 1913. She met her husband, Rev. Daniel Wu, in church, where she worked as a volunteer rolling bandages for Dr. Sun Yat-sen's army. "He came by often when we were rolling bandages, telling us how patriotic we were. I guess he was impressed with our dedication. At other times, I would attend his lectures in church." After three years of meeting in church and at the park across from the church, they decided to get married at Grace Cathedral outside Chinatown. "My family had switched to the `new way of thinking' for a long time.... We did not need a matchmaker or any of the other Chinese rituals. There was no loud crying or colorful layers of clothes. We just decided to have a Christian wedding and I even made my own wedding dress and veil."149 According to a newspaper account of the wedding, the ceremony was conducted in Chinese and English, and the large gathering consisted of both Chinese and European American friends.150

  Daisy Wong Chinn also met her husband, Thomas W. Chinn, at church. A founding member of the Square and Circle Club, she recalled that she and her girlfriends seldom went on individual dates. Instead they went on group outings with boys, riding the ferry to Muir Woods, hiking to the top of Mt. Tamalpais, taking a hayride down the peninsula to the new Moffitt Naval Air Hangar, and attending athletic events, musical programs, and dances. She and Thomas did not go out alone on a date until they had known each other four years. Soon after, they be came engaged, and a year later, in 1930, they decided to marry. Typical of other young Chinese American couples then, they opted for a wedding that was a combination of Chinese and Western traditions. The wedding ceremony, including an altar, upright piano, minister, flower girl, and wedding party, was held at a Chinese restaurant and followed by a Chinese banquet. Limousines were hired to pick up the guests, who were greeted upon arrival by a Chinese musical trio consisting of a trumpet, cymbals, and an erh-hu.1s1

  Most large weddings in the 19 20S took place in either a church, a hotel, or a public hall. Caroline Chew wrote in 1926, "The bride and groom and all the attendants appear in conventional Western garb and the famous Wagnerian and Mendelsohnian strains are played in true Western fashion." After the ceremony, coffee and cake were served, and the bride was driven to her new home in a limousine decorated with red paper and silk. The day after the wedding, the parents usually hosted an elaborate wedding feast in Chinatown, consisting of fifteen to twenty courses. Most important, the bride did not live with her husband's family after her marriage but established her own home, "where she reigns supreme from the very outset."isz

  Although more second-generation women were allowed to choose a groom after 1911 than before, they found their decisions encumbered by discriminatory laws that discouraged their marriage to foreign-born Chinese and prevented marriage to white Americans. The Cable Act of 192.i reversed the Expatriation Act of 1907, which had required women to assume their husband's nationality upon marriage. The 1922 act provided that a female citizen would no longer lose her citizenship by marrying an alien and, conversely, that an alien woman would no longer gain U.S. citizenship by marrying a citizen. However, section 3 of the Cable Act stipulated that "any woman citizen who marries an alien ineligible to citizenship shall cease to be a citizen of the United States." Although section 4 allowed that "a woman who, before the passage of this Act, has lost her United States citizenship by reason of her marriage to an alien eligible for citizenship, may be naturalized," section 5 stated that "no woman whose husband is not eligible to citizenship shall be naturalized during the continuance of the marital status."153 The Cable Act, in effect, stripped any American-born Chinese woman of her citizenship status should she choose to marry a foreign-born Chinese with no hope of naturalization, since she herself, by virtue of her race, thereby became an "alien ineligible to citizenship." Moreover, once a woman lost her citizenship, she could no longer confer derivative citizenship to any of her children who might be born outside the United States. She also lost her rights to own property, vote, and travel abroad freely.154 Until these stipulations were repealed by the Cable Amendment of 193 1, Chinese American women like Florence Chinn Kwan and Flora Belle Jan who chose to marry Chinese foreign students fell victims to the Cable Act.

  Florence met her husband while studying at the University of Chicago. Upon their marriage in 1923, they decided to go live in China. Five years later, when they returned to the United States, he, as a student, was permitted to land immediately, but she and her two children were detained on the boat. "The immigration officer said, `It's because you're married to an alien and lost your citizenship.' And that was the first time that I knew that I had lost my citizenship when I married," she recalled. Only after a friend who worked for the Immigration Service vouched for her identity was she allowed to land. "[On her word] I got off without paying the $z,ooo bond for me and $z,ooo for the children. After that, I said, I'm not coming back here any more."155 But her husband's work as a physician necessitated trips to the United States every five years, so finally, in 193 6, she applied for naturalization and regained her U.S. citizenship.

  Flora Belle also met her foreign-born husband while a student at the University of Chicago. They married in 1926, and she decided to return to China with him in 1932. According to a letter she wrote her friend Ludmelia before departing, she was aware of the impact the Cable Act had on her and zealously tried to adjust her status through naturalization before leaving for China.

  Here's the problem. I must have my birth certificate. After that, I must apply for citizenship since I lost it by marrying an alien according to a recent law. I am permitted to apply for it by paying a $ i o fee and passing an examination, providing that I have my birth certificate. I must go through this before I ever dare leave America because once I am out of the country, as an alien, I'll have a devil of a time trying to get back. And I know that I will always want to come back because it is my home. 156

  Unfortunately, no doctor had presided at Flora's birth; therefore, no birth certificate was on file in Fresno County, where she was born. But a U.S. District Court judge in Chicago evidently believed her and allowed her to "repatriate" as a U.S. citizen before she left for China.157 Her foresight in this matter allowed her to escape war conditions in China and return to the United States in 1949 as a U.S. citizen along with her two daughters who had been born in China.

  Aside from the Cable Act, anti-miscegenation attitudes and laws that prevented interracial marriage between Chinese and whites discriminated against Chinese women as well. Compounding the problem was ostracism in the Chinese community with respect to intermarriages. Tye Leung, who had run away to the Presbyterian Mission Home to avoid an arranged marriage, found herself the target of such shunning. While employed as an assistant to the matrons at Angel Island, she met and fell in love with an immigration inspector, Charles Schulze. They had to travel to Vancouver, Washington, to become legally married. "His mother and my folks disapprove very much, but when two people are in love, they don't think of the future or what [might] happen," she wrote later in an autobiographical essay. 15s After their marriage both had to resign from their civil service jobs because of social ostracism. Charles went on to work for many years for the Southern Pacific Company as a mechanic, and Tye found a job as a telephone operator at the Chinatown Exchange. Although they were "the talk of Chinatown," according to one of her contemporaries, the Schulzes chose to live close to Chinatown, and Tye remained active in the Chinese Presbyterian church. Their children, Fred and Louise, recalled that they were one of the few interracial families in Chinatown, and although they as children were sometimes called fangwai jai (literally, foreign devil child), they were accepted in the community, most likely because their mother spent many hours volunteering in the community.159 Her son Fred said, "She was very kind and always willing to help other people go see the doctor, interpret, go to immigration, and things like that. Very often she would take the streetcar and go out
to Children's Hospital to interpret on a volunteer basis." 160

  Discriminatory laws such as the Cable Act and the Anti-Miscegenation Act went hand-in-hand with other anti-Chinese measures and practices that sought to stop Chinese immigration and the integration of Chinese into mainstream America. Such laws were often both racist and sexist in character and created hardships for Chinese American women already hampered by cultural conflict at home. They were painful reminders of the vulnerable existence of the second generation, who, in spite of their rights as U.S. citizens, could easily become disenfranchised on the basis of race alone.

  Other American laws, however, such as divorce laws, gave Chinese American women leverage and latitude in changing their marital circumstances. Although few cases of divorce among Chinese Americans were reported in the local newspapers, Caroline Chew wrote in 1926 that "divorce among Chinese in America has become comparatively com mon, and although it is still looked upon with a little distaste, if it is quite justifiable, no one has anything disparaging to say." She added that, unlike in China, wives in America had just as much right as husbands to sue for divorce. 16I According to local newspapers, one major source of information on divorce patterns in the Chinese American community, important causes of divorce among second-generation women included wife abuse and polygamy. In 1923, for example, Emma Soohoo sued her American-born husband, Henry, for divorce on grounds that he "cruelly beat her and then deserted her," and she requested sole custody of their twenty-month-old baby.162 As another example, in 1928 Amy Quan Tong, the owner of a manicuring parlor in Chinatown, filed for divorce from her American-born husband, Quan Tong, because, as she told the judge, he had put her to work at low wages in his Hong Kong candy store and taken a second wife .161

  Charles and Tye Leung Schulze. (Courtesy of Louise Schulze Lee)

  Like second-generation European American women, Chinese American women who married men of their own choice often embarked on a life quite different from that of their immigrant mothers. To start, they were not as confined to the domestic sphere, as Caroline Chew points out:

  She is perfectly free to come and go as she pleases and has free access to the streets. She goes out and does her own marketing; goes calling on her friends when she so desires; dines at restaurants occasionally; and even ventures to go beyond the precincts of "Chinatown" quite frequentlyall of which have hitherto never been done by a Chinese woman. Fifteen or twenty years ago such conduct would have been considered most outrageous and would have caused a woman to be all but ostracized.164

  There was also more equality, mutual affection, and companionship in second-generation marriages. Not only did couples go out together, but they were not afraid to express their affection in public. Because both worked and contributed to the family income, they tended to discuss matters and make joint decisions regarding the family's welfare. Secondgeneration husbands were also less resistant to helping with the housework and sharing their outside concerns with their wives. Daisy Wong Chinn found her marriage of fifty-two years fulfilling as well as happy because she and her husband, Thomas W. Chinn, communicated well and worked together on many community projects. Thomas was always forward-looking, she noted. He opened the first sporting goods store in Chinatown in 1929 and founded the Chinese Digest in 193 5. "Whatever projects he has," she said, "he always says, `Well, what do you think of this?' And I'm his best critic because I always tell him what I really think; and then he can decide for himself whether my thoughts are better." In most cases, she said, he took her suggestions. 165

  Jade Snow Wong shared a similarly close and equal relationship with her husband, Woody Ong, about whom she wrote in No Chinese Stranger, the sequel to Fifth Chinese Daughter. Old family friends, the two became reacquainted after they had both established their businesses in Chinatown and were thrown together by a family emergency. As Jade Snow put it, "Each grew in awareness of the other, and devotion flowered." Their married life was wedded to their work life, as they lived and worked together on the same premises.

  In this first year of marriage, they often walked the three blocks to Chinatown for a restaurant lunch, after which they would purchase groceries for that night's late Chinese dinner at home. The division of their studio work was natural. Financial records and bank deposits, mechanical problems, chemical formulas, checking kiln action, packing, pickup, and deliveries naturally fell into Woody's hands while Jade Snow stayed close to home, working on designs, supervising staff schedules, and keeping house. True to tradition, once Woody had locked the studio door and come upstairs, he was home as a Chinese husband, expecting their house to be immaculate and to be waited upon and indulged. They could consult with each other on just about every subject without disagreement. Kindness, devotion, protection with strength new to her, and extravagant gifts were privileges that gladdened Jade Snow's heart, while her husband's physical comfort and mental relaxation were her responsibility. 166

  Although their marriage revealed a traditional gender division of labor, neither partner dominated the other. As their family grew to four children and they added an active travel business to their ceramics work, Woody proved a supportive partner, helping with the children and household chores, encouraging Jade Snow's career in ceramics and writing, nursing her back to health when she became ill, and sharing responsibilities with her on the many tours to Asia that they cosponsored.

  Similarly, Tye Leung's marriage to Charles Schulze, despite being handicapped by the taboo against interracial marriage, was successful because it was both egalitarian and interdependent. According to their son, Fred, "We had good family relations. I never heard arguments, fights, or anything." Both parents were kind and mild-tempered, and both worked to provide for the family. Tye did most of the cooking and housework, but in the evenings, when she was working at the telephone exchange, Charles would take care of the children and of Tye's mother, who lived with them. Fred fondly recalled: "Before we went to bed each night, my father would always bring us a cup of cocoa. Then after he gave us our cocoa, he would take the dishes out to the kitchen, wash them, and put them away." 167

  Both parents loved music and led an active social life. Tye played the piano and Chinese butterfly harp and attended the Chinese Presbyterian church regularly; Charles played the French horn with a military band and was active at Grace Cathedral. Tye would often go to the Chinese opera, weddings, and birthday parties in Chinatown accompanied by her children, while Charles played with various musical bands in the city and attended regular meetings of the Odd Fellows Lodge. Although they led different social lives, they were a close family. They always ate and played together at home on Sundays, Fred recalled. Not only was the marriage a happy one, but the children benefited from the cultural strengths of both parents and the warm family life they provided.

  Jade Snow Wong and her husband, Woodrow Ong, packing her ceramics, which accompanied them on her speaking tour in Asia for the U.S. State Department, 1953. (Associated Press photo; courtesy of Jade Snow Wong)

  Further factors that distinguished between traditional and modern marriages among Chinese Americans included the size of the family and the quality of home life. Unlike their mothers, second-generation women knew about and had access to birth control, which became more available to American women in the 19 zos. "My friends were very good to me and told me what to do," said Gladys Ng Gin. "When it was time to have nmy first baby, a good friend of mine said, `Gladys, you have to go to the hospital,' and she introduced a woman doctor to me." 1611 Most of her contemporaries-both European and Chinese American-limited their families to two or three children and had them in the hospital. However, some "modern" husbands proved uncooperative. Flora Belle Jan's health was ruined after five abortions because her husband refused to practice birth control. She confided to Ludmelia:

  I have been thinking that I have given the six best years of my life to a man who is not worth it.... When I first met him, I was idealistic and enthusiastic and ambitious. I had a body that was sound and healthy. Now I
am completely disillusioned, entirely lacking any enthusiasm, and utterly devoid of ambition.... I had my first abortion in September, 1928, at a time when I was pathetically struggling with some editorial work for which I was never paid. The next abortion came the following spring. Then in September, 19z9, I was fortunate enough to get a job at the Methodist Book Concern, the salary from which helped [my husband] to go back to school. In January, 1930, I had my third abortion. My memory is a bit hazy but I think the fourth came in December of 1931. I struggled with contraceptives, begged [my husband] to use condoms for added precaution but he stubbornly refused. Then I had a fifth abortion in January, 1932. For these abortions, I have pawned my mother's jewelry, modelled in art schools, slaved at office routine, stood the boresome company of a Chinese newspaper editor whom I taught English, neglected [my son] to go out to work, gone without the decencies of life and the clothes I long for with all the fever of youth. Why have I had to undergo this torture? Because of a man who prides himself on his intelligence [but] is hopelessly lacking in understanding.'69

  Despite her husband's shortcomings, Flora remained married to him and bore him three children, two of whom were born in China. The last pregnancy almost cost her her life. That was when she finally insisted on having a tubal ligation.

  Although they faced discrimination in the labor market and in their search for decent housing, second-generation Chinese were still able to take advantage of their education and achieve a degree of upward mobility. The combined income of this generation of middle-class Chinese American couples afforded them modern apartments outside of Chinatown, albeit on the fringes. Chew Fong Low, frustrated by housing discrimination in San Francisco, spent a quarter of a million dollars constructing the Low Apartments on the outskirts of Chinatown in order to give her family and "her people an opportunity to live in true American style in a building constructed by American workmen from American plans."170 The apartment building was made of steel frame and concrete and contained twenty-five apartments, all featuring modern kitchens, tiled bathrooms, separate shower cabinets, French doors and windows, built-in mirrors, hot water heaters, and outlets for radio and private telephone lines. Other Chinese American couples, like the Schulzes, were able to rent accommodations, complete with running water and a private bathroom, above Powell Street in the 19 zos. They were also among the first in Chinatown to have modern appliances such as a radio, toaster, iron, and refrigerator.171