Politely Taxing the Chinese?

In this lesson I say that it should be clear that the discourse on nationalism is also about ethnicity and ideologies of “race.” If you trace the historical overview of nationalism in Canada in the CanLit guide, you will find many examples of state legislation and policies that excluded and discriminated against certain peoples based on ideas about racial inferiority and capacities to assimilate. – and in turn, state legislation and policies that worked to try to rectify early policies of exclusion and racial discrimination. As the guide points out, the nation is an imagined community, whereas the state is a “governed group of people.” For this blog assignment, I would like you to research and summarize one of the state or governing activities, such as The Royal Proclamation 1763, the Indian Act 1876, Immigration Act 1910, or the Multiculturalism Act 1989 – you choose the legislation or policy or commission you find most interesting. Write a blog about your findings and in your conclusion comment on whether or not your findings support Coleman’s argument about the project of white civility. (Paterson)

I will write about the government activities that lead to the Chinese Head Tax and Chinese Exclusion Act. Since Charmaine beat me to posting on this topic, I will try not to repeat what she wrote.

A good place to start in talking about this subject would be the 1858 Fraser River Gold Rushes, in which immigrants flooded to Canada in search of wealth. These immigrants came from different places, which caused trouble: “Competition for prospecting rights and other business associated with the gold rushes led to conflict between European, American and the visibly different Chinese, who often found themselves at the harsh end of justice on the frontier” (Gold Rush). Of course, the gold rush had to end eventually, and when it did in 1865, worsened economic conditions resulted in further hostility towards the Chinese. They were racially segregated into Chinatown (which they didn’t really mind) and then deprived of voting rights along with the Natives in 1871. Chinese and Natives were not even allowed to be buried in the same place as Europeans.

So not only did Europeans consider their arrival chapter 1 in the Native narrative, they considered Chinese arrivals chapter 15 in their narrative.

Then work on the Canada Pacific Railway began. Fearing for European workers, the Anti-Chinese Association attempted to block Chinese workers from getting CPR jobs. This petition was rejected, not because it was blatantly racist, but because Chinese workers were absolutely necessary for the building of the CPR. In addition to the Chinese who were already in Canada due to the gold rush, the government encouraged further immigrants from China to work on the CPR. Chinese workers had far lower wages, dealt with far worse working conditions, and were put to far more dangerous tasks such as blasting rocks. Many died.

Then the railway was done. But the Chinese were still there. The government thought that was a problem.

In 1885, Prime Minister Macdonald, who had supported Chinese workers during the CPR’s construction, changed his tune:

When the Chinaman comes here he intends to return to his own country; he does not bring his family with him; he is a stranger, a sojourner in a strange land, for his own purposes for a while; he has no common interest with us . . . A Chinamen gives us his labour and gets his money, but that money does not fructify in Canada; he does not invest it here, but takes it with him and returns to China . . . he has no British instincts or British feelings or aspirations, and therefore ought not to have a vote. (Perpetual Foreigners)

Consul-General Huang in San Francisco had a different view:

It is only about thirty years since our [Chinese] people commenced emigrating to other lands . . . You must recollect that the Chinese immigrant coming to this country is denied all the rights and privileges extended to others in the way of citizenship; the laws compel them to remain aliens. I know a great many Chinese will be glad to remain here permanently with their families, if they are allowed to be naturalized and can enjoy privileges and rights. (Chinese Perspective)

There are two contradicting stories here, and the latter I think would be more legitimate considering it comes straight from a Chinese mouth. But rather than believe or even acknowledge that story, the government chose to create its own story, perhaps in a similar way to how it created its stories about the Natives. It does this to continue its vision of white civility and justify its actions that support it.

The Chinese Head Tax, enacted right after the CPR was built, started off by charging every Chinese immigrant, with exceptions, $50 upon arrival. The government’s message was clear: Don’t come here; we don’t want you. But Chinese immigrants still came, and the head tax was increased to $100 in 1900, then $500 in 1903, apparently “enough to purchase two houses in Montreal at the time” ($50, $100 . . . $500!). But they still kept coming. Finally, in 1923, the government decided that enough was enough and passed the Chinese Exclusion Act, banning Chinese immigration altogether.

Prime Minister Macdonald assumed that Chinese immigrants did not go to Canada to raise families. The Chinese Head Tax and Chinese Exclusion Act turned this assumption into a reality.

Imagine if Natives had forced settler Europeans to pay head taxes on arrival. Imagine if they had told them to go away.

With the blatant racism that the Canadian government employed during these years, one might wonder why they didn’t just skip the head taxing and go straight for exclusion. One possible answer is that they didn’t think it morally just to enforce such policies, but then again, they were quite fine with racial segregation, disenfranchisement, and job inequality. Another possible answer is that they wanted the money, liked the money (especially when it nearly paid for the Western section of the CPR), and (despite their own contrary whining) liked cheap Chinese labour, so long as those Chinese workers weren’t starting up their own businesses (which got its own problems). One more possible answer is that they didn’t want to tarnish their image–their narrative of superiority, of white civility. They were polite Canadians, after all, and they were just politely asking the Chinese to not come to them with their $50 tax; they were gritting their teeth in politeness when they upped that to $100; they bared their distressed politeness in making it $500. Then they gave up, but at least they tried? Had European Canadians shown that they were tolerant of and therefore superior to the Chinese? To the Natives? They probably thought so.

There are of course many way to tell this story, and this site shows one of them. I chose not to use this site in my above writing, not because its facts are wrong, but because I found the way it presented them troubling (it’s interesting to note, however, that this site is funded by the same organization as one of the sites that I did use). Here’s a question then: Do you share my troubled feeling in the way that this site presents this story, and why, or why not? It is worth noting that the site states that it specifically targets children, but this statement could very well make it even more troubling.

You do not have to answer the question should you choose to comment. If you want to write on something else, then please do.

Works Cited

Anne Li, Charmaine. “Race, Nationalism, and a Forgotten Story.” Canadian Yarns and Storytelling Threads. UBC Blogs, 26 June 2015. Web. 26 June 2015. 

Chinese Neighbourhood Society. The Long Voyage: From Pigtails and Coolies to the New Canadian Mosaic. CNS, 2015. Web. 26 June 2015. 

Metro Toronto Chinese & Southeast Asian Legal Clinic. Road to Justice. MTCSALC, 2011. Web. 26 June 2015.

Paterson, Erika. “Lesson 3:1.” ENGL 470A Canadian Literary Genres May 2015. U of British Columbia. Web. 26 June 2015.

University of British Columbia. Chinese Canadian Stories. UBC, 2012. Web. 26 June 2015. 

Assumptions and Truth

“To raise the question of ‘authenticity’ is to challenge not only the narrative but also the ‘truth’ behind Salish ways of knowing “(Carlson 59). Explain why this is so according to Carlson, and explain why it is important to recognize this point.

seek-truth

Truth is a difficult concept to work with. There’s its conventional definition of factual adherence, which sounds irrefutable but is really far from it, and then there are all those other meanings that people ascribe to it, resulting in a mass of confusion whenever discussion is attempted. It’s no surprise then that this confusion is exemplified in the cross-cultural context. When people who speak the same language have so much trouble agreeing on what truth is, how do you think people who speak different languages will handle the same issue?

For the sake of a coherent discussion, I will give a (rather bad) working definition of the word truth as Carlson uses it in the quotation above. It is as follows: Truth is the moral and/or spiritual significance of a story, which justifies the story’s authority in prescription. So when Carlson states that “non-Natives have generally not been overly concerned with the historical legitimacy of Aboriginal legends and myths” because “they assume them to be fiction,” he is stating that non-Natives think of those Aboriginal legends and myths as untrue, not necessarily because they are not factual (which they are in no position to verify), but because they are not morally/spiritually significant and therefore not authoritative sources of prescription (56). In other words, non-Natives do not believe that Aboriginal legends and myths should influence their behavior–that’s what their bible is for.

So what does authenticity mean? Well, to the Natives, it doesn’t mean anything: “[N]either reality . . . nor authenticity is part of the indigenous criteria for assessing” their stories (56-57). What it means to the non-Natives is the real question, and the underlying assumption of the term is that there are two kinds of Native stories: authentic and unauthentic. Pre-contact and “post-contact” (56). Now, the optimist might say that in seeking out so-called authentic Native stories, non-Natives are attempting to study a unique culture in an effort to gain more understanding and respect towards that culture; the skeptic, on the other hand, might say that in seeking out so-called authentic Native stories, non-Natives are seeking more so-called evidence for their so-called superiority.

Let’s try the skeptic route. In claiming that stories such as Robinson’s story of the twins are unauthentic, or influenced by “post-contact European events and issues,” non-Natives are insinuating that those stories cannot dispute non-Native assumptions about pre-contact Native cultures (56). The most important non-Native assumption being protected thus is that of pre-contact Native illiteracy. By claiming that a Native story describing pre-contact literacy is an unauthentic, post-contact-tainted story, non-Natives can maintain the stance that pre-contact Native cultures did not have literacy. In other words, they can still claim that they brought literacy to the Natives.

 

To return to the prompt questions, the idea of authenticity challenges the truth (as badly defined by me) behind Salish ways of knowing by ignoring the significance–the truth–that the Salish culture attributes to their stories. Carlson states that the “sacred historical narratives” of Salish historians are “sacrosanct” (59); they are too powerful to be interfered with. That which might be a matter of good or bad scholarship for non-Natives is a matter life or death for the Salish culture: “And shortening myths would shorten the lives of all listeners” (59). In throwing around labels of authentic and unauthentic, non-Natives are asserting an assumption that they are superior authorities on matters of truth. The consequence of this assumption is that non-Natives “not only close a door on another way of knowing, [they] potentially insult the people who share the stories and thereby reduce the likelihood of their generosity continuing” (56). Recognizing this point then is important for two reasons. The first reason is so that non-Natives can recognize that they are very likely insulting Natives and so can stop doing that before it is too late. The second reason is so that they can expand their understanding of truth rather than remain ignorant of its many facets.

Works Cited

Carlson, Keith Thor. “Orality and Literacy: The ‘Black and White’ of Salish History.” Orality & Literacy: Reflectins Across Disciplines. 43-72. Print.

Haydey, Brent. “The Undeniable Truth Limiting Personal Trainers and Other Wellness Entrepreneurs.” Entrepreneurial Freedom. Brent Haydey, 2015. Web. 19 Jun. 2015. 

Pardi, Paul. “What is Truth?” Philosophy News. Philosophy News, 29 Jan. 2015. Web. 19 Jun. 2015. 

Paterson, Erika. “Lesson 2:3.” ENGL 470A Canadian Literary Genres May 2015. U of British Columbia. Web. 11 Jun. 2015.

True Stories That Contradict Each Other

First stories tell us how the world was created. In The Truth about Stories, King tells us two creation stories; one about how Charm falls from the sky pregnant with twins and creates the world out of a bit of mud with the help of all the water animals, and another about God creating heaven and earth with his words, and then Adam and Eve and the Garden. King provides us with a neat analysis of how each story reflects a distinct worldview. “The Earth Diver” story reflects a world created through collaboration, the “Genesis” story reflects a world created through a single will and an imposed hierarchical order of things: God, man, animals, plants. The differences all seem to come down to co-operation or competition — a nice clean-cut satisfying dichotomy. However, a choice must be made: you can only believe ONE of the stories is the true story of creation – right? That’s the thing about creation stories; only one can be sacred and the others are just stories. Strangely, this analysis reflects the kind of binary thinking that Chamberlin, and so many others, including King himself, would caution us to stop and examine. So, why does King create dichotomies for us to examine these two creation stories? Why does he emphasize the believability of one story over the other — as he says, he purposefully tells us the “Genesis” story with an authoritative voice, and “The Earth Diver” story with a storyteller’s voice. Why does King give us this analysis that depends on pairing up oppositions into a tidy row of dichotomies? What is he trying to show us?

While King does read the “Genesis” story with an authoritative voice, he does so in an ironic way. This is made clear when he says, in the same ironic way, that “none of [us] would make the mistake of confusing storytelling strategies with the value or sophistication of a story” (23). He is thus not emphasizing the believability of one story over the other; rather, he is emphasizing the narrative technique that (mis)leads readers to thinking that one story is more believable than the other: “These strategies colour the stories and suggest values that may be neither inherent nor warranted” (22). He heavily implies that narrative techniques which makes stories seem more believable (e.g. the authoritative voice) do not justify judgments that one story is more valuable or sacred than another, especially in the cross-cultural context where different techniques are valued.

King’s irony extends to his discussion of dichotomies. The long list of them that he gives emphasizes Western society’s obsession with what are ultimately superficial oppositions that possess unjustified and discriminatory connotations (25). This irony is then briefly discarded for a more genuine appeal:

So am I such an ass as to . . . suggest that the stories contained within the matrix of Christianity and the complex of nationalism are responsible for the social, political, and economic problems we face? Am I really arguing that the martial and hierarchical nature of Western religion and Western privilege has fostered stories that encourage egotism and self-interest? Am I suggesting that, if we hope to create a truly civil society, we must first burn all the flags and kill all the gods, because in such a world we could no longer tolerate such weapons of mass destruction?

No, I woudn’t do that. (27)

The irony may return with that last line, but he’s already said what he means. His viewpoint is evidently inclined towards the Native narrative, and so I think that King gives us this dichotomy-laden analysis to criticize those very dichotomies and make us examine not only their validity but the consequences that they have already wrought on our world. I think he is trying to show us that there is a way out, even if he knows no one is going to take it.

Now, to backtrack to the prompt’s first question (which I am backtracking to because it requires a personal answer), I do not believe in any creation story. To be more precise, I do not believe in the possibility of rendering the world’s origin (assuming that such an origin happened) in a communicable format. That’s it. So, the quality of sacredness that the prompt refers to is frankly lost on me. However, I do perceive and am affected by the world structures that the “Genesis” and “The Earth Diver” stories posit; were I to be exposed to one story and not the other, I would likely lean towards the structure that the story I’m exposed to portrays. That structure would be cooperation or competition in the case of these two stories, but it could be a lot more.

As someone who does not really understand the concept of sacredness, I view sacredness as an attribution that has the effect of prioritizing a story’s portrayed structure over that of every other story. This prioritization over other stories is what causes all of the resulting problems as people with different world views try to convert each other, through any means. I think then that in cautioning us against binary thinking, King and others are trying to get us to accept a world of true stories that contradict each other–one in which we acknowledge that sacredness is in the eye of the beholder.

Works Cited

Fuchs, Jackie. “10 Creation Myths as Strange as the Bible.” Listverse. Listverse Ltd., 11 Jan. 2014. Web. 11 Jun. 2015.

King, Thomas. The Truth About Stories. Toronto: House of Anansi Press Inc., 2003. Print.

Paterson, Erika. “Lesson 2:2.” ENGL 470A Canadian Literary Genres May 2015. U of British Columbia. Web. 11 Jun. 2015.

Wright, N. T. “How Can the Bible Be Authoritative?” Vox Evangelica 21 (1991): 7-32. Web. 11 Jun. 2015.

Our Homes

Read at least 3 students blog short stories about ‘home’ and make a list of the common shared assumptions, values and stories that you find. Post this list on your blog.

I’ve decided to interpret this prompt literally, so here’s the list.

Shared Assumptions (i.e. the obvious yet not-so-obvious):

Home exists. Regardless of what Home means or how it is invoked, no blog denied the concept of Home. Granted, we didn’t have much choice as the prompt itself assumed this.

Home is personal. It is not homeland. Although nationality can be and often is a part of our concepts of Home, we attribute much more to it than just that, and many of those attributions are unique to us as individuals.

Home is linked to the physical world. When we think of Home, we think of tangible things. We may refute that Home is wholly represented by things such as houses, but we inevitably turn to talking about physical things in describing our concepts of Home.

Home doesn’t exist everywhere. There are places where you don’t feel at Home. Home is a limited space. It is a precious resource.

Home is worth it. Even with its faults 

Shared Values:

Home is a conglomerate. It is a lot of different things put together to form one experience.

Home changesLike us.

Home represents the past as well as the present. It is a special space for memories.

Home represents the connection between people. It represents the bonds we have with those special to us.

Home is a narrative. It is made of stories.

Shared Stories:

People stories. Stories about friends, stories about family, stories about community.

The biggest take-away I have from reading this week’s blogs is that Home is complex. It means a lot of things to different people and is represented by a lot of things as well. It is because Home is so complex that we try to convey it through stories. We always go back to those stories in the end.

Works Cited

Abeed, Alishae. “Assignment 2:2.” ENGL 470A: Canadian Studies. UBC Blogs, 5 Jun. 2015. Web. 8 Jun. 2015.

Avery, Laura. “2.1.” ENGL 470A: Querying Narratives of ‘Home’ and of National Identity. UBC Blogs, 5 Jun. 2015. Web. 8 Jun. 2015.

Cardoso, Kathryn. “Where is Home?” ENGL 470. UBC Blogs, 5 Jun. 2015. Web. 8 Jun. 2015.

Cook, Erica. “Home.” Oh Canada!. UBC Blogs, 6 Jun. 2015. Web. 8 Jun. 2015.

Cook, Hayden. “2:2.” Hayden’s English 470 Blog. UBC Blogs, 5 Jun. 2015. Web. 8 Jun. 2015.

Datten, Gretta. “Assignment 2:2.” Liberal Leaning Literary Landscapes Labryritnhinely Lined with Liminal Loops of Logic and Legend. UBC Blogs, 3 Jun. 2015. Web. 8 Jun. 2015.

Downs, Cecily. “Story as Home.” Canadian Lit. UBC Blogs, 6 Jun. 2015. Web. 8 Jun. 2015.

Franey, Evan. “Home in Transition.” Liminal Space between Story and Literature. UBC Blogs, 5 Jun. 2015. Web. 8 Jun. 2015.

Froehler, Hailey. “The Ambiguity of ‘Home’.” English 470A. UBC Blogs, 5 Jun. 2015. Web. 8 Jun. 2015.

Ghazi, Saarah. “2.1.” Saarah Ghazi. UBC Blogs, Jun. 5 2015. Web. 8 Jun. 2015.

Goei, Debra. “So This Is Where I Know Is Home.” Oh Canada! An Interpretation. UBC Blogs, 5 Jun. 2015. Web. 8 Jun. 2015.

Li, Freda. “Blog 4: A Home is Not (Always) a House.” ENGL 470: Whose Canada Is It? UBC Blogs, 5 Jun. 2015. Web. 8 Jun. 2015. 

Millar, Whitney. “Let Me Come Home.” Whitney ENGL 470 Experience. UBC Blogs, 5 Jun. 2015. Web. 8 Jun. 2015.

Paterson, Erika. “Lesson 2:1.” ENGL 470A Canadian Literary Genres May 2015. U of British Columbia. Web. 8 Jun. 2015.

Ready, Alyssa. “Painting the Sky-The Outdoors is my Home.” Alyssa Ready. UBC Blogs, 1 Jun. 2015. Web. 8 Jun. 2015.

Where I Live

The first home I remember living in is an apartment in Tianjin, China. I remember a big bed, a gigantic model ship, and little else.

The second home I lived in is an apartment in New Westminster, Canada. I got there at the age of six and started school with extra English classes, the result being that I more or less forgot everything about Chinese. Anyway, the apartment was a small one, like the one in Tianjin. The outside was wood (or brick?), giving a more homely feel compared to Tianjin concrete, and the neighbourhood on Ash street had a lot of trees. The school was within walking distance.

There was a small television in the bedroom, and on a certain night, I had the misfortune to flick to a horror channel. Being little older than six, this was not a pleasant experience for me, and it was perhaps after that that I gained a strong aversion to a clump of fabric on the bedroom curtain. It looked like a face—a grinning face, no less.

bedroom-curtains-pictures

*Not the same curtain.

My feud with the grinning face continued for years, but despite that, the small apartment in New Westminster was a good place to live.

My parents started looking for a new home when I was in grade four. We went to a few places and eventually settled on one of two, over which I had the executive decision. The first place was a small apartment, just like the one we were already living in, but had an active and welcoming community full of weekly events and stuff like that. The second place had three floors.

I chose the three floors.

We took a vacation back at Tianjin; it was fun. Nice relatives, good food, places to tour. Air was horrible and it was like a furnace in what should’ve been winter, but whatever. We went back to my first home, which was still our home, and we went up the creaky steps that carried the distinct flavour of dust and mystery. The place hadn’t changed much. The bed was still there. The ship was still there. The toilet didn’t work, but whatever. It was a place I didn’t remember much, but it had definitely been my home.

Here is a conversation that never happened:

Hi Kevin.”

Hi. How do you know my name?”

Not important. I have a question: What does Home mean to you?”

You mean where I live?”

Maybe. But I don’t mean home—I mean Home.”

Huh?”

Anyway, the vacation ended and I was eager to see my school friends again; in fact, on the same day that we came back form the airport, I had us drive by the school and asked if I could go in to say hi. My parents said no, as that was no longer my school.

The third home I lived in is a co-op unit in Burnaby. It was sizable compared to the apartment but not really that big, and the basement got flooded a few months later. Still, it had a backyard, which was nice, and I had my own room, which was nicer. I settled in comfortably enough and forgot about the grinning curtain clump. Years later, I could no longer imagine living in a cramped apartment where I had to share a room and didn’t have stairs. Still, it had definitely been my home.

Almost a decade later, my parents started looking for another home. We were going to get someplace really big this time, but I found myself resisting the idea, wanting to just stay where we were. Why? I wasn’t sure. A large part of it was convenience, a desire to not go through all that trouble associated with moving yet again, but another part was perhaps that I just didn’t want to leave. This home was comfortable, just like the last home had been and, I believe, the home before that, and I just didn’t want to go. But I did. We went through that trouble and believed it was worth it.

The fourth home that I am living in is one side of a duplex in Coquitlam. It’s big, too big really, and we’ll own it all once the mortgage is paid. The inconveniences are many, the biggest for me being the 3-zone commute to UBC, but I can now no longer imagine living where I had lived before. Still, that place had definitely been my home, just as this place is and just as the next place I go to will probably be.

Hi Kevin.”

Hello.”

What does Home mean to you?”

You mean where I live?”

Maybe. But I don’t mean home—I mean Home.”

Easy. It’s where I live.”

Works Cited

“About Us.” Garden Square Housing Co-Op. GSHC, 2015. Web. 5 June 2015. 

“Bedroom Curtains Pictures.” Soulfjord.com. Soulfjord.com, 2015. Web. 5 June 2015.

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