When we talk about the history of Canada, we tend to forget about the history of Chinese immigrants. Although July 1 marks Canada's National Day, for members of the Sino-Canadian community, this date recalls decades of humiliation that left an indelible mark on their collective memory, that linked to the ban on the entry of Chinese newcomers into Canada beginning on July 1, 1923. On the occasion of Asian Heritage Month, La Converse discussed the legacy of oppression that Canada has left to the Chinese community.
Becoming a “son on paper”
“Happy first month of May! exclaims Timothy Chan, an 87-year-old Chinese Canadian, as he brings a cup of tea to his lips amid lively conversations and laughter from elders. A long-time visitor to the Ruby Rouge restaurant, he speaks English with a Cantonese accent in the warm setting of this establishment in Montreal's Chinatown. For him, enjoying the Hong Kong cuisine of his childhood in this neighborhood where he invested so much has a particular flavor in this month of May. Indeed, as he celebrates Asian Heritage Month, the year 2023 marks a turning point in his fight to highlight the history of those he calls the “Lo wah kiu” (the “old overseas Chinese”) since it marks the centenary of the law that excluded them.
The 87-year-old elder plunges into his memories. After a long pause, he pulled out a sheet of paper containing Chinese characters from his pocket, recording information that he wanted not to let fall into oblivion. After a moment of thought, he barely raised his cup, spilling some tea on the red tablecloth. “My uncle, my mother's brother, suggested that I leave for Canada. I accepted. He paid $1,700 to get the necessary documents,” Timothy said. In the early 1950s, $1,700 was equivalent to about $20,000 today — a colossal sum for the son of a Chinese peasant in the city of Taishan.
At the age of only 16, Timothy arrived alone on Canadian soil. The memories flow when he remembers. In a voice washed down by time, he says, “At the time, there was no direct flight between Hong Kong and Canada. The trip was from Hong Kong to Japan by ship, then from Hawaii to San Francisco. I then arrived in Canada by train, via Vancouver and Montreal.” His burning desire to find his grandfather, who had immigrated to the United States in search of financial stability, led him to embark on a journey of several months.
Chan is considered to be one of the last historical witnesses to the period of systemic oppression of the Chinese. From 1885 to 1947, the population was subject to immigration legislation based solely on racial criteria. Initially marked by the imposition of a head tax, this period, which extended from 1923 to 1947, was that of the ban on the entry of Chinese people into Canadian territory. This policy persisted for several years after its abolition, limiting Chinese immigration to the spouses and children of Chinese people who obtained Canadian citizenship. It was not until 1967 that the restrictions associated with this legislation were officially removed.
Going into debt to start your life
As in the case of Timothy, the migration trajectory of the Chinese, during those terrible years, often began with a heavy debt. From 1885 to 1923, a head tax was introduced to deter the establishment of Chinese people in the white colony. “The year 1885 is an important date because it was when the construction of the Canadian Pacific Railway was completed,” says William Ging Wee Dere, writer and historian, author of the book Being Chinese in Canada (Being Chinese in Canada). There is a hint of bitterness in the words of the third-generation Chinese Canadian: “There were many Chinese workers looking for work. European colonists thought that there were too many Chinese workers. They could not tolerate that.” This tax gradually increased from $50 to $500 in 1903. The Chinese were forced to borrow money to have a chance to protect their identity and ensure their survival within the nation.
“$500 was a lot of money... At the time, it could have bought two houses. Many people, including my grandfather, were forced to borrow money.” William explains that families were resigned to paying this amount because it was seen as an investment in the family's future. At a time marked by the Second World War and the civil war in China, investing in the immigration of a healthy young Chinese man offered a glimmer of hope to escape poverty.
Isolation at both ends of the ocean
In addition to the financial burden, the family separation imposed by these immigration laws has left a painful memory in the community. In a sad voice, William shares the following: “It was a very difficult situation, a very bad situation for my mother who stayed in the village. Even though she wanted to come to Canada with my dad, she couldn't because Canada didn't allow immigration, even for family members.”
For her mother, who stayed in China, the responsibility to provide for the family was great, as she cultivated land purchased with money sent by her father and grandfather, who had emigrated.
Across the Pacific, the feeling of isolation was shared by his father and grandfather. “My dad went back to the village every 5 to 10 years. Every time he came home, my mother gave birth to children some time later. That's how I and my siblings were born,” William says. It is estimated that in 1941, there were over 29,000 Chinese men residing in Canada, 80% of whom had wives and children who remained in China. The white majority perceived the Chinese community as a community of “married singles,” in reference to the situation of the majority of isolated Chinese men in Canada.
The only ties that united the family were formed around exchanges of letters. “During that time, he wrote lots and lots of letters to my mom with the money he had to send to support the family,” William reports. As with many immigrants, William's story begins with a family separation. The family was only able to reunite in 1956, after the Chinese Exclusion Act was repealed and the Canadian Citizenship Act came into force, which allowed her father to acquire citizenship in 1950.
The laundry room as a refuge
Likewise, Timothy escaped loneliness upon arrival in Montreal by finding refuge among other members of the Chinese community. He was a waiter at the Jardin du Cerf restaurant and, on his days off, he devoted his time to contacting the owners of Chinese laundry rooms in the city. “I worked a full week to get a day off. During that day, I did not go to the casino or to the nightclub. Instead, I went to the laundries to talk to the owners. I visited 400 laundry rooms and talked with 400 people,” he says with a touch of pride.
Timothy's story highlights the complex reality of immigration in Canada and reminds us that arriving abroad is only the starting point of an integration journey. Among these immigrants, individuals like William's grandfather and father chose to open laundry rooms. These modest establishments were transformed into real cultural and social centers, playing an essential role in the development of the Chinese community. As social and racial segregation grew in Canadian society, nighttime gatherings between traders over a feast were a vital way for these immigrants to maintain their existence and re-establish broken ties with their families in China.
Being Chinese Canadian
For these Chinese Canadians, commemorating their past of exclusion has profound significance for the preservation of their existence in Canadian society. William stresses the importance of remembering the longevity of the community in Canada: “It is crucial for us to remember that our community has been here for over 150 years.” For Timothy Chan, commemorating these migration laws is an essential reminder to the current Canadian government. In a resounding voice, which stands out against the background of the conversations that fill the restaurant, he exclaims: “It is an injustice. Today, they talk about human rights... But look, 100 years ago, did Canada care about human rights? ” In 2006, the federal government officially apologized for Chinese immigration law and awarded $20,000 in compensation to survivors who paid head tax and to their widows living in Canada.
Today, both William and Timothy define their sense of belonging to Canada through their immigration experience. William identifies himself as a Chinese Canadian, saying, “It is crucial to emphasize that I am Chinese Canadian, because I am neither Euro-Canadian, Franco-Canadian, nor Anglo-Canadian. Even if someone tries to assimilate me into one of these societies, I refuse to be assimilated. My life is an act of resistance.” Similarly, Timothy is struggling to maintain his identity by valuing Chinese history. The octogenarian laments: “You never find these Chinese people from world history in books and newspapers, and that bothers me. I would like to continue to promote them, but I am getting old.”
Sharing the history of Lo Wah Kiu is also a way to inform Chinese newcomers to Canada about the historical struggles of their community. William says the following: “I think it is essential that recently arrived immigrants — whether from mainland China, Southeast Asia, Europe, or elsewhere — understand the foundations of the Chinese community's struggle throughout Canada's history for equal rights and historical recognition.”
Leaving the historical heritage
For decades, Timothy Chan has worked to preserve the history of Loh Wa Kiu. As the founder of the “The East Wind Society” exchange forum, opened in 1959, his aim has always been to inform members of the Chinese community about current events so that they become aware of what he calls “global Chinese history.” Timothy solemnly declares: “The history of China is an essential part of the history of the world. It is very important for the Chinese community, for the Chinese people themselves, and it is also important for me.”
Then he concludes, resolutely: “It is not only up to the Chinese community to know this, but for all communities.” Timothy is hopeful that future generations and other communities will continue the legacy of the Chinese-Canadian community in Canada.