In which I jump into the deep end of Asian American history

It’s been almost two weeks since I announced my intention to read my way through Asian American, Native Hawaiian and Pacific Islander Heritage Month.* So far it has been a frustrating and fascinating experience.

Unlike Black History Month and Women’s History Month, the places I hang out on the internet have not been full of fascinating stories about forgotten people and incidents. (Though there have been several interesting pieces about the fiftieth anniversary of the arrival of South East Asian refugees into the United States at the end of the Vietnam War* and a number of heart-breaking reminders of the Japanese internment camps in WWII.) The Chicago Public Library’s list of ways to celebrate is largely focused on novels and movies, which do not really serve my purpose. (Also demonstrations of hula dancing and Korean music. Very tempting.) The Goodreads list of Asian American non-fiction is heavy on celebrity and restaurant memoirs—also not what I had in mind.**

In the absence of any clear path, in mid-April I went to the bookstore around the corner, Call and Response Books,which specializes in books by and about people of color, and threw myself on the bookseller’s mercy. I walked out with Asian American Histories of the United States by Catherine Ceniza Choy. It turned out to be a very good place to start.

Choy, a professor of ethnic studies who has studied, taught, and written about Asian American history for more than two decades, began the book in 2021 at the height of Covid in response to the anti-Asian violence and hatred that was part of that experience. Her primary argument is that the themes that fueled that violence, as well as the violence itself, have been part of American history for 150 years. Nonetheless, the book is not simply a catalog of hate crimes and historical erasure.

As the title makes clear, Asian American Histories of the United States is a series of histories of different Asian groups who arrived in the United States at different times under different circumstances. Choy looks at the ways in which their experiences differ, and the ways in which they are the same. Some of the stories are familiar, such as the arrival of some 20,000 Chinese men to work on the transcontinental railroad.**** Other stories were totally new to me: for example, the important role played by Filipino workers in creation of the United Farm Workers and the development of a Punjabi Mexican-American community in Texas at the beginning of the twentieth century.*****

Choy structures the book in reverse chronological order, from 2020 to 1869.  The structure is surprisingly effective, underlining that Asians arrived in the United States earlier than most of us knew.  Each chapter looks at a particular historical moment and specific Asian population, then expands the themes across time and ethnic group. She shows both how the chapter’s issue had earlier roots and how that issue plays out in the modern world. A freestanding, and fascinating, chapter at the midpoint titled “The Faces Behind the Food” looks at the impact of Asian Americans on food in the United States in often surprising ways. (For example, a Chinese worker named Ah Bing, who arrived in the United States in 1855, worked on an Oregon fruit farm and is credited as the cultivator and namesake of the Bing cherry. I was stunned.)

If I read nothing else for Asian History month, Asian American Histories of the United States would accomplish my basic goal of learning more. But don’t worry, I intend to read on. We’re not done yet.

*That fifty years sure went by quickly!

** Thanks to those of you who made suggestions.

*** I realize that we are only a week into May and I may not be hanging out in the right places.

****Not so familiar: the fact that Chinese railroad workers were not included in the iconic photograph of the ceremony that marked the completion of the railroad despite their critical role in its construction. (According to Leland Stanford, president of the Central Pacific Railroad, ninety percent of the workers on the western half of the Transcontinental Railroad were Chinese. In fact, the National Park Service account states that “On the morning of May 10th, 1869, eight Chinese men moved the final rail into position.”—An act that was symbolically important.) Historical erasure in real time.

*****According to historian Karen Leonard, there are people in the region today who think Singh is a Hispanic surname.  Which I find both very funny and slightly sad.

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