Tasia Siereveld
5-26-15
In Search of Lost Time
Wing Luke: The Heart of the International District
I’m strolling along in Seattle, but walking beneath the iron and glass pergola hugging the corner of Pioneer Square Park, I can almost imagine that I am strolling through a European metropolis on the cusp of the 20th century. This is something I love about this city; its many faces have a way of transporting you to a different time, and sometimes, a different place. The Beaux Arts of Union Station captures the obsession the West had with Parisian architecture around the turn of the 19th century, the Space Needle takes you back to the post WWII era which marks the love affair so many architects had with everything outer-space, and the Central Waterfront looks out onto Elliott Bay and provides you with all the joys of boardwalk culture. All of these stylistic expressions of Seattle have a special place in my heart, but the district of seattle which I formed a unique affection for is the International District, which greets me as I step out of Pioneer square.
It is difficult for me to clearly explain why I feel such a profound connection to the International District, which prior to the 1970s was still referred to as Chinatown. In truth, I think it is due to a whole host of reasons, some obvious and some hidden even from me. I first visited the area 7th grade with an after-school club for Japanese culture enthusiasts. Initially I joined because of my admiration for the teacher who started the club, but I quickly grew very interested in the subject matter. As the grand conclusion to the group’s time together we took a journey to Seattle’s International District(IND). Our first stop, the place I will always see as the heart of the district, was the Wing Luke Museum.
The Wing Luke Museum is dedicated to preserving the history and culture of Seattle’s Asian Pacific American community. The International District is one of the only communities of it’s kind on the US mainland, a remarkable collection of cultures are woven into it’s history, including not only Japanese and Chinese, but Filipino, Korean, Vietnamese, Cambodian, Thai, and Indian. Because of the area’s complex population, there are many complex matters the museum, which is a community based organization, has to consider as they design their exhibits. Because the museum is designed in collaboration with the community, the exhibits it contains say a lot about what the IND community values. Through my exploration of the museum I distinguished two important themes, community and identity. These concepts are integral to the museum’s approach to the representation of the Pacific Asian American community. The museum’s ability to weave an engaging narrative of history and inspire within me a keen interest in the subject matter hinged upon their used of those themes.
My first visit to the Wing Luke Museum for the purpose of this project took place on a Friday. Walking up King St. on my way to the museum i could smell the roast duck that was hanging in the window of the Fortuna Cafe, as well as the heady aroma of dried spices wafting out of a small Chinese grocery. The heavy wooden doors, which formed the entrance to the museum, caused a rush of air to be dragged into the building as they swung open, sending the massive colorful wind chime overhead into a frenzy. I walked up to the reception counter,“Hi, I would like to purchase a year long membership.” I said said cheerfully. The young woman sitting behind the desk smiled at me.
“Sure,” she said “just sign this paperwork here please.” She handed me a clip board with a single form on it. I thanked her and went on to explain my mission there at the museum. The young women looked genuinely pleased. “Well we certainly appreciate your interest.” she said. She told me that she could get me in touch with the director of educational outreach, and that they would make sure I got access to all the resources I would need. She then handed me a small map of the museum and gave me some information on the exhibits and upcoming oral history tour. I noted how warm my welcome was, as opposed to the rather stuffy receptions I have received at some other museums. I relaxed at the woman’s sign that she was genuinely excited that I had designed a project around the museum. I glanced at the pamphlet for new members. “It’s Your Museum!” it read.
I decided to spend the few minutes I had before the beginning of the oral history tour in one of my favorite exhibits. To reach the exhibit one must climb a set of stairs which on a sunny day seem to ascend into the brightness of the sky. The stairs look to be made of old recycled dock wood, and I can easily imagine them leading out to Puget Sound. At the end of the staircase there is a landing bathed in the sunlight shining through the panel of glass which forms the ceiling. The installation is titled “The Letter Cloud”, and was designed by Susie Kozawa and Erin Shie Palmer. The walls of the hall look to have been pulled from an old seaside shanty, and are covered in tar and ornamented with frosted windows glowing with candle light. The azure sky shining through the skylight is meant to represent the blue of the ocean. Hundreds of paper letters are suspended overhead by fishing line, and dance in the wake of an artificial breeze.
From the end of the hall came the sound of a gentle voice, but the words were lost in the sound of the waves until I reached the bench at the back of the hall. The voice was that of a woman reading an old letter from a young man to his love across the sea. Letters from other immigrants followed, often read by their children or grandchildren. The matters of which they wrote were so relatable and timeless that i couldn’t help but feel a deep sense of solidarity with them. I identified with their struggles as well as their successes.The letters were read in their original tongue as well as in English, increasing their accessibility. “A cloud of paper floats these letters across time and space…” readed a portion of the description on the wall.
The oral history tour started on the ground floor of the museum in front of the biographical exhibit for the museum’s namesake, Wing Chong Luke. Only two other people were waiting for the tour, so the group was small. Our guide, Don, was incredibly personable; he asked where we were all from, and chatted about his family and where he was from. His casual conversational style lent itself perfectly to the tour. At times I could hardly distinguish what was planned in his presentation, and what came organically. For instance, Don revealed his parents were actually from the same province of China as Wing Luke. He told us of the first time he visited their old home and his surprise at finding the people of China to be extremely warm and welcoming towards him. “There was a time when American born Chinese people were not well received there,” he informed us. Traveling for Don had been a great learning experience, and he encouraged all of us to travel to China some day. “Travel transcends racial lines.” he said.
As Don covered the life of Wing Luke, the part of his story which seemed the most significant took place in his childhood. In primary school he was the only non-caucasian child, and was picked on terribly. Wing, we were told, was also an incredible artist. Don asked us, “So, if you could draw really well, and all of these kids were picking on you, how would you draw them?” I looked kind of bashful and hesitated. “I guess I would make them look pretty stupid,” I said. Don nodded, “Well Wing didn’t do that, he wanted these kids to like him, and so he drew them all as superheroes!” As it turns out, this worked. Wing became one of the most well liked boys in his entire class. A class photo with Wing standing at the center, with all the students smiling, added a pleasant visual ending to the story.
The tour moved to the front of the museum where we learned about the history of how the International District was built and then outside where we could look at the city directly. The tour then moved to the East Kong Yick Building, which was donated to the museum after it closed. The store, which was rebuilt as a part of the museum, is still filled with all the original jars of dried goods and account books. Don revealed that he used to come to the shop in it’s original location as a child. He would buy dried plums as a treat and help his brother carry the 100 lb bag of rice his mother would purchase there every month. More and more I was realizing that Don was himself a part of the story he was laying out for us.
From the Yick building we moved onto the Freeman Hotel, which was one of the first resting places of many immigrants coming to Seattle from Asia. The hotel rooms were small and sparsely furnished. It was hard to imagine that these rooms were used as permanent living quarters for grown men. The hotel also contained meeting rooms for Family Associations. Family Associations were essentially clubs comprised of people who came from the same provinces in China, and wanted to recapture the sense of the community they had when living in their old villages. The first of such banquet style meeting rooms we entered belonged to the Gee How Oak Tin Family Association, the largest in the nation. Such associations are a testament to how important maintaining a sense of community was in the early days of the international district. It also demonstrates the creative ways in which immigrant populations go about maintaining a sense of cultural identity and how they valued the roots of their past. After learning about the history and structure of family associations we moved into the adjoining room which stood for yet another family association and displayed a collection of antique mahjong tiles, a traditional Chinese game similar to dominoes.
Don lead us all to the window and pointed to the other side of King street. “Do you see that building over there?” he asked. Another type of association in the area was known as a tong, which was originally a secret business organization generally of ill repute. They were known to be involved in gambling, smuggling, and even prostitution once upon a time, but have since become merely places for older chinese people to gather socially. Don’s father was actually a member of the Bing Tong Association, which we could see from the window. He often kept that part of his life secret from his family. Yet, Don does remember his father showing him card tricks, and demonstrating how easy it would be for him to swindle any rube who tried their luck at gambling with the tong.
The tour ended where I began, at the “Letter Cloud.” Don left us with the message that the stories the museum tells are a part of us all, they are stories of immigration, of struggle, and of seeking the American dream.Those who visit the museum aren’t only supporting it financially, but are participating in keeping certain memories alive. In addition,we spread our new found knowledge and insight to the rest of the community when we leave. “It’s Your Museum!” say the flyers sitting outside the museum entrance.
From the first moment I walked into the museum, I was made to feel welcome. The museum staff all seemed pleased with my presence. They sought to encourage my curiosity as I asked questions, and received the knowledge I had to impart with grace and respect. Through out the tour Don engaged with us by asking us questions rather than simply giving us answers. Because of how the tour was conducted I was able to recognize when I was learning something new, as well as occasionally add a bit of my own knowledge to the tour. The conversational style of the tour also allowed me to examine any previous ideas or conceptions I may have had about history. Because we were a community of learners rather than passive recipients of information the subject matter felt more relevant to me.
I was further impressed by the museums dedication towards education within the community once my tour was over. As the girl at the front desk promised I was put in touch with the director of educational outreach. He provided me with his contact information, and talked to me about the resources the library had available to me.
The museum library is located on the second floor of the museum. It’s full title is the Governor Gary Locke Library and Community Heritage Center, or GGLLCHC. The library is home to books, oral history interviews, articles, archives, photographs, videos, and art all relating to Asian Pacific American history and culture. Though the museum does not lend out its materials, there is no admission charge for anyone wishing to utilize it’s resources. I took this as further proof of the Wing’s open and welcoming nature as well as their dedication to community education.
The exhibits themselves, both through medium and content made me feel I was a part of the community I was learning about. The use of what I call full immersion exhibitions were incredibly powerful. To be standing on the street, looking out over the horizon of Seattle while I learned about it reminded me that there is a wealth of knowledge about the IND’s history and culture outside of the walls of the museum. Because I live so close to Seattle, I can venture into the city myself and make connections to the community directly, the museum is merely a jumping off point. The Wing Luke Museum web site and staff encourage visitors to explore independently on their visitation page. Being able to walk through the Yick Fung shop and the Freeman Hotel, as if suspended in time, transported me back to the past and allowed me to adopt a different perspective far more easily than by looking at pictures in a book. The recreation of scenes and places of the past by the museum intensified my empathy for people who now exist only as memories. Lastly, the story about Wing Luke using kindness to make friends with the students who were teasing him really highlighted the museum’s message that community and understanding is important, and that it can be achieved through compassion and education.
Don’s background was also an important factor in his aptitude as a guide, because as it turned out, he had a personal connection to the museum’s subject matter. His memories of the area as a child brought the subject matter quite literally to life as it was embodied by him. Hearing about the IND from someone who actually grew up there, and who has a place in the history we were talking about made it a very personal experience. Listening to an oral history from someone who could provide a personal perspective to enhance the information I was receiving made me realize how relevant this topic still is to the Seattle community today. Learning about the area’s history and culture from a person with roots in it inspired in me, as I am sure it does in others, a sense of solidarity, and connection. People help us connect because compassion is a gateway to enlightenment.
My ability to relate, through post memory, on some level to the early Asian immigrants that came to Seattle stems from my own family history. My great grandparents immigrated to Seattle around the turn of the century as well, and though their arrival was not met with the same hostility and injustices as the early Asian settlers many of their struggles would have been similar; repressing cultural practices and language, attempting to adapt to a strange environment, and striving to carve out a place in a society that sees you as an outsider. Even today, just like the early immigrants of the 1900s, we are all struggling to achieve our goals, and find our place in society while maintaining our own identity. Finding fundamental connections to others through shared experiences creates a bridge between communities, and makes it easier to empathise with experiences which we may never have been exposed to personally. This is the foundation for a caring and successful community.
The Wing Luke museum understands the importance of people in the learning and preservation process, which is why they make sure that the people of Seattle’s International District play a key role in the museums design. While conducting some research through the museum’s web site (wingluke.org) I learned a great deal more about how the museum has excelled as a community driven organization. In 1995 the museum won the National Award for Museum Services for their “cutting edge work in fostering broad-based participation in the development of exhibitions and programs.” The museum’s goal is to get the Pacific Asian American communities and the public at large to become engaged with learning about the cultures and histories tied to the IND and to participate in the growth of the museum. One way they do this is by using the Community-based Exhibition Model. Community members are involved in the process of making exhibits every step of the way, from brainstorming ideas to installing exhibits, to outreach and publicity. The team of people that puts together an exhibit always includes not only staff members, but “core community members,” which make up the Community Advisory Committee(CAC). The members of this group all have some personal connection to the subject matter of the exhibit to be created. They are the ones with authority over the the content of the exhibit, and what it’s main messages are. The CAC is also charged with branching out further into the community, inviting others to contribute their talents or stories to the formation of the exhibit. On occasion, a leader is necessary for the group to run smoothly. Such a person is chosen based upon their strong role within the community rather than a history in museum work. They help by facilitating group meetings, connecting the museum further with the community, and sharing their wisdom in general.
As I learned about the process the museum goes through to design their exhibits, and how much they value the community in the process, I began to further value where I fit into the equation. As a patron of the museum I support it financially, but I also come as a vessel for the knowledge and the wisdom its stories would bestow upon me. I matter in this community for the simple and powerful fact that I care. Because I care so deeply about this community and their stories, I carry them with me, and thus bring parts of the museum with me wherever I go. I am not the only one of course, many others share my role, but our role is also an important part of the process because our passion for the museum spreads awareness to others, who in turn become interested in visiting the museum. In this way, stories and community keep history alive.
I believe that Wing Luke is truly is a community museum, in that it preserves the history of a community, promotes communal memory, and creates it’s own community within and beyond its walls.
On my second visit I chose to do a little exploring of the exhibits on my own. I wandered about in solitude for the majority of the time as few other visitors were there at the same time as me. The Central Gallery was my first stop. The Gallery, which is supported by the Allen Family Foundation, is a permanent exhibition space titled “Honoring Our Journey.” The dimly lit gallery is a peaceful space filled with numerous artifacts, images, stories and sounds all meant to preserve the memories and cultures of early Pacific Asian settlers in the Northwest.
As I walked into the gallery I was confronted by a text adorned wall which gave a brief introduction to some of the sentiments behind the exhibition space. The display is titled “Honoring Our Journey: Asian Pacific Americans,” and goes on to explain what it means to belong to this group. They are “Members of thriving communities” who share a “common history and common experience in America.” Their goal is to ban together so that they may have “their history known, their voices heard, and their needs addressed.” Their hope is that by coming together as a community and honoring their roots, whether they be “multiracial, gay, straight, or intermarried (etc.), they will gain deeper insight into their own identity.
While reading this passage I began to place the concept of identity within the theme of community. The passage, while praising the collective efforts of the APIA community to honor their connections also made a great effort to point out that not all those who are APIA are the same.
The nearest exhibit within reach of the entrance was a collection of portraits placed above an artificial mantle. The portraits were of dolls, and a caption was placed near them:”We recreate old cultural ways in their homes…” The dolls were a physical reminder of the land their owners left behind. The rest of the caption expressed the concerns Asian immigrants had with not belonging in American society, as well as their struggle to keep the memory of their origins alive. The latter is expressed by the quote “memories of the homeland dissolve with time.” The exhibit made me think about the importance of memory and honoring one’s origins in maintaining a sense of identity. I realized that because the dolls were meant to preserve immigrant memories by way of being a physical representation of the past, objects could be directly linked to identity in a way that was not superficial.
As I moved deeper into the gallery I found a bench sitting in front of a wall on which images of Asian American culture were being projected. As I looked to my left I saw that pristinely stenciled words adorned the smooth surface of a cement wall. There were two sections of text. The first section was titled “Asian American- A New Identity.” The section talked about the term APIA, and how is was a more accurate identifying term than simply Asian: “We are both Asian and American.” The article also talked about the way in which the APIA title can be perceived as positive (strength, unity, community), or negative (separation, clannish). As I read I began to consider the conflict that can arise between communities when people try to evaluate certain aspects of their identity and how their identity can isolate them as well as create a sense of connection. Questions are asked in the paragraph about how children adopted from Asia or those of an interracial marriage identify themselves. No answer was provided for these questions, and thus I believe they were intended to give the viewer food for thought as they explored the museum.
The second part of the mural said “Remember the Past, the Struggles!” It then listed some of the civil rights movements the community had participated in, as well as some of the hurtful things that are frequently said to people of an Asian American background.
Moving on, I discovered a case filled with symbols of different Asian cultural traditions. The case held buddhist statues, wooden carvings which depicted a Korean wedding party, and a collection of religious symbols. The exhibit presented the idea that “tradition provides depth and meaning to one’s life”, and that tradition has “deep roots” often based in folk beliefs, and is “kept alive through ritual.”
After exploring the Main portion of the Central Gallery I decided to wander in the direction of the Kid’s Center. Near the entrance to the children’s portion of the gallery there were two little trees covered entirely in colorful paper tags. The tags were New Year wishes which people wrote for their loved ones and hung on the little trees in the hopes that they would come true. This Chinese tradition appeared to have been popular with visitors, and I found that rather touching.
The children’s center was decorated lavishly with mostly Chinese New Year decorations. A large dragon puppet, the kind seen snaking down the street in New Year parades, hung from one corner of the ceiling, and near it hung a large happy mask meant to resemble the face of a doll. Little red envelopes, which are used to present children with money on on New Year’s Day for good luck, were pinned accross the wall. A panel on the wall talked about the significance of the New Year in the context of tradition, and the exchange of such of cultural practices to new generations and new communities. The first portion reads: “Asian immigrants settling in the Pacific Northwest bring with them many holidays from their homelands…Here in America [APIAs] pass along their traditions to their children.” The piece continued by talking about how the APIA community practice their traditions not only at home with family but in the community. The celebration of the New Year is compared to other holidays such as St. Patrick’s day, because though it did not originate in America, it has been adopted by American culture. The piece continues with “While many New Year traditions have changed to accommodate new surroundings in America, their essence still remains.”
After wandering about the children’s center a bit more, I moved into the adjoining hall which contained the Community Portrait Gallery. The gallery contained 5 exhibits at the time: I Am Filipino; Vietnam in the Rearview Mirror; Alaskeros: A Documentary Exhibit on Pioneer Filipino Cannery Workers; Cambodian Cultural Museum and Killing Fields Memorial; and Hometown Desi: South Asian Culture in the Pacific Northwest.
I Am Filipino was a very interesting piece which took up an entire room. On one wall of the room there were pictures of dozens of people, all of whom were of Filipino descent. Every individual looked incredibly unique, and every one of them had a different definition of what it is to be Filipino. One quote said, “ It is hard to say what being Filipino is. It can be anything.” Oral history stations were set up around the room so that the visitor could listen to interviews done with various Filipino individuals on the topic of their experience with identity. One woman who was interviewed talked about how she manages to balance her new identity as an American and her Filipino identity. She referred to herself as a “weekend Filipino.” The term refers to living a lifestyle that requires her to suppress her Filipino identity during the week and while she works, and only participating in the traditions of home during her off days.
At another oral history station a young woman named Karen Johnstone reflected on what it is like for her to be fair skinned and have a dark skinned Filipina mother. She also talked about the struggle her mother had with being dark skinned and having a fair skinned mother. “She definitely made efforts to make connections but she also felt very isolated,” Karen said about her mother. Karen said she learned a lot from her mother about the importance of self esteem when it comes to identity: “She taught me and I have learned through her and through my own experiences as being very fair skinned and also being very immersed in the Filipino Community, that I have to accept myself, and true, there will be those who will question or reject me, but I’m not going to let them take away my identity.”
As I wandered through the rest of the Gallery I found many similar presentations of identity as something complex and fluid. The matter of identity seemed to be of great importance not only to the Filipino population but to many other Immigrants living in America. People belonging to the Vietnamese, Cambodian,and Indian communities all had important things to say about the nature of identity.
At the end of my self tour there was another photo collage that said “South Asian identities are complex, layered, and fluid.” Under each photo was a short description of that person’s identity as they saw it.
I stayed until the museum started to close, and spent the last few minutes sitting on the bench in the Central Gallery. In those last few minutes I sawtwo other visitors. They were a young couple, the male was caucasian and the female was of Asian descent. I watched them as they explored some of the exhibits and as the young woman explained how one of the traditional Japanese dresses was worn. They giggled and smiled and flirted as they explored. Soon the announcement was made that the museum was closing, and I gathered my things and made for the exit. As I left the museum I felt a strong sense that I had gained further insight into the nature of being Asian American in the Northwest.
My visit revealed a lot to me about the importance of memory both personal and collective in the formation of identity. One of the major challenges in maintaining an authentic sense of identity for the APIA people is balancing a respect for the past without ignoring their unique role in the present. The passing down of stories and the continuing practice of traditions serves as a catalyst for post and collective memory. Traditions not only travel with people to new countries and new homes, but they integrate themselves into that community as well, and may even become part of other cultural identities. I feel that the ability to share traditions and allow them to adapt while still retaining their essence is a fundamental tool for helping people to connect across cultures.
My visit also reminded me that it is helpful to have a tangible representation of the past. Because time is such a great oppositional force against memory, an object, like a doll, can be a valuable tool for keeping the past alive. Objects and the traditions they are related to root people to their collective past, and therefore have a substantial impact on the formation of their identity.
The exhibits of the central gallery and the Community Portrait Gallery also made me consider the challenges people face not only in the process of discovering their identity, but in the presentation of that identity as well.
As I explored the Community Portrait Gallery I saw a clear continuation of the theme of identity. The variation in identity amongst Asian Americans and their struggle to maintain a sense of tradition, while still integrating themselves into America appeared to be the major concentration.
The values of community and identity seemed to be interwoven continuously throughout the museum’s portrayal of Pacific Asian American history in the Northwest. Identity is complex and deep in that it is inseparable from those who came before you, because to understand your role in the present you must understand how the actions of those in the past have shaped the world around you. Also, because post memory is another type of communal memory, both influence how we think about ourselves, especially in relation to others. My visit to the museum demonstrated how balancing individual identity with having a larger role in the community can be difficult but also rewarding.
I also came to realize that I am a part of a community which has subcultures within it, one of those subcultures is the APIA community. I interact with members of that community almost every day, so learning more about their history and concerns with identity allows me to be more compassionate and understanding. I understand better now how to support my friends and peers with ties to Asian American culture.
People do not exist in isolation, to understand yourself you have to understand the people around you. This is a reality which the Wing Luke Asian Museum understands, and they use this knowledge to design their exhibits in a way that reaches out to individuals, but then shows them how important they are to the IND community at large. They do this by pointing out the visitors power to help preserve communal history, support museum and the IND community at large, and contribute personally to communal education. My understanding of my own identity and relationship to the International District has been strengthened by my exploration of the Wing Luke museum, as has my resolve to educate myself and others further on the importance of education and understanding through community and self reflection.
