The Persecution and Oppression of Me
View a copy of "The Persecution and Oppression of Me." The Independent 24 August 1911: 421-426.
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The persecution and oppression of me is very real, tho perhaps not very apparent. The persecution is of such a peculiar character, and such is my demeanor under it, that the majority of those around me are led to believe that instead of being persecuted I am a persecutor. This was the exprest opinion of a good Western woman whose vision was somewhat shortened, and I have reason to believe that it is the opinion also of many Easterners. I am not sorry for this. I confess that I strive to give this impression. The dying game cock raises his head and crows while his foe stands over him. But to those who are not my foes there is more solace in writing the simple truth than in bravado.
I attribute this persecution and oppression of me to a peculiar combination of jealousy and prejudice. It is not the ordinary prejudice of race, I am convinced. All my life, wherever I have been, and wherever I go, I win friends and affection very easily. It is only after people have learned that there is a difference between me and them that the persecution begins. It is the persecution of the “Different." It seems that it is human nature to be cruel to the different. Even in families this is seen. Was not Joseph hated by his brethren because he was a dreamer? And in these days of the laudation of the commonplace, life is peculiarly hard for the "different." Yet none of us chose how we would be born. We are all part of a great plan, and it is pathetic to think that so many who were designed to be “different" are cowed into casting aside their individuality and sinking themselves into the great mass of the commonplace. I remember a clever little girl who used to pretend to be stupid because she wished her schoolfellows to love her. So strong the desire of the human heart for affection.
The temptation which assails the half Chinese who goes out into the world, as I have done, mixing for the most part with the respectable middle class of the community—the class which is the most antagonistic of all to the "different"—is to pass as wholly white. This is a very easy thing to do, particularly if you have the Caucasian features. Dark hair and dark complexion are not peculiar to the Chinese. There are dark people of other countries. Many French Canadian people are as dark and darker than, the Chinese. There is a cast over the countenance of all persons who have Chinese blood in their veins; but this does not necessarily proclaim them Chinese. They can be of Spanish, Italian or Mexican descent. I know a half Chinese whose features are altogether Mongolian; but as long as she keeps exclusively with the Americans, and is not seen with the Chinese, no one of the Americans among whom she lives would think of her as Chinese.
Because of this temptation, few, if any, of the half Chinese women and men, living in America, save those who live with the Chinese side of the family and are dependent upon it, are known to the world as Chinese. This makes living easier for them; yet it is the exposure of such frauds that makes the name of halfbreed a synonym for cowardice and all else that is contemptible.
The Persecution and Oppression of Me in America is because I will not be that sort of half breed, and prefer to reflect honor upon those who are of mixt Asiatic and European nationality. Why not? There is no real reason why any one who is Chinese as well as white should not be proud of the distinction. At the same time, I do not believe in being aggressively Chinese. It is only when, in the ordinary course of conversation, things are said and statements are made, untrue and unfounded, betraying bitter prejudice against the Chinese people, that, in spite of my natural desire to be liked and well treated, I feel that I must proclaim what I am. This, not for the sake of the Chinese, or for anyone's sake but my own, and my own honor.
"What is your father? What is your mother?" "From what country do you come?" These are ordinary questions and can be asked by mere acquaintances. Of course, one can give an evasive or untrue reply, but why should I? So, because I dare to be happy in my "shame," everything has been said and done which possibly could be said or done to humiliate me. I could not undertake to relate even one hundredth part of my experiences in this regard; but I will give a few, and tho some of them have been more amusing than painful, I am convinced they merit record as a protest against American race jealousy and prejudice.
A few years ago as I was traveling over the continent, I made the acquaintance of a man and woman from the State of Massachusetts. The woman seemed a pleasant person and her two year old little girl took a fancy to the seat beside me. That was all very well for awhile. There are times when I like children although I have no constant craving for them. But when I saw that Mrs. G— began to leave me the entire charge of the child and to slip off the car at every station before I had an opportunity to return the little one to her; I made up my mind that if I was to derive any benefit myself from the trip, I would have to use my wits. I had heard enough of Mr. and Mrs. G's conversation to convince me that foreigners, i. e., Japanese and Chinese, existed only outside the social fences of Massachusetts, which, by the way, Massachusetts people usually carry around with them. So when Mrs. G— returned from a nice little outing at a South Dakota station, I plumped little Kitty into her maternal arms and stated that I expected to meet some Chinese friends at the next stopping place. Had I told the woman that I intended to jump out of the window, she could not have looked more horror struck. "You know I'm Chinese myself," I added, and walked away. Several times during the course of the afternoon did poor little Kitty look my way, but from anything beyond looking, she was restrained. Once I heard the woman say to her husband, "And she came out so boldly with it. Not a bit ashamed!" She mightn't have meant me, but—. However, I enjoyed my stop at the next station.
Out West, prejudice is not nearly so bitter as it is in the East—not against the Chinese. It never was as petty as the Eastern prejudice. Nevertheless, I have had reason to take note of some peculiar manifestations of the untender passion.
I took rooms one time with a widow woman who lived in a little cottage in a suburb of the city, which from all that the widow said, when she persuaded me to pay for a month's rent in advance, would prove to be a peaceful Paradise. At that time I was studying Chinese and was in the habit of giving about half an hour to a Chinese manual every morning. Sometimes I carried the manual with me, sometimes I left it in the house.
On the third day, after moving into the cottage, my landlady knocked at the door and asked me to step out into the hall as she had something to say to me. "Come in," I called. "What is it?" "No, I will not come in," was the amazing reply, "I can't come in. because I'm afraid you will mesmerize me.” I thought at first she was jesting, but when I turned to look at her I found her countenance rather too serious.
"I want to tell you," said she, "that you must stop it."
"Stop what?" I asked.
“Stop exercising occult powers over me; compelling me to like you against my will."
As the desire of my soul at that time was peace and tranquility, I bade the woman close the door at the same time unwisely remarking that it was a matter of indifference to me whether I was liked or not.
“You do care,” she asserted furiously. “You have centered your mind upon me, and are using all your Oriental magnetism to draw me into your power." Then suddenly going down upon her knees, she cried: "I beg of you, I pray of you; to give up your study of occultism."
Naturally I began to think that I had a crazy woman to deal with and got up from my seat to lock my door. But she intervened her foot, and pointing to the table whereon lay my Chinese book, cried: “Can you deny it? See!"
Explanations don't explain in some cases.
I spent a restless night. I believed myself alone with a mad woman, yet I hesitated to call in anyone or to say anything lest my suspicions should be unfounded. Also I feared that because I was half foreign my tale would be pooh-poohed by the authorities.
The next morning I had occasion to pass my landlady in the hall. "It is all around you, all around you," was the greeting she gave me.
"What?" I queried.
"The atmosphere," she replied. "The atmosphere of your magnetism. I dare not come near you, for fear I should be drawn into its influence. It is the atmosphere of the East, of China or Japan—those cursed heathen countries." (The woman was of Spanish descent, but both she and her parents had been born in America. In religion she was Roman Catholic and while she talked she clutched a cross in her hand.)
"Keep away from me altogether then," I returned impatiently. "When my month is up I shall leave you."
"What," she cried; "You little snip! You little Jap! You little Chinese! Dare to speak of leaving this house and I will spoil your little foreign face and put a knife through your heart.”
I am a slender woman and not very tall, my heaviest weight not exceeding ninety-four pounds. My antagonist was a broad-faced, bullet-headed woman, heavily built, with a short neck, high shoulders and large sinewy arms. But even my worst enemies cannot accuse me of cowardice. So, for all the knife which she suddenly flashed out, I did not make any outcry. I simply returned to my room and began to pack. I could see at least that the poor thing really was sincere in her madness and dared not enter the charmed circle.
After packing and locking my trunk I again went into the hall, and was again accosted by my landlady, who seemed to have been doing some thinking. She informed me that landladies have certain rights and privileges as well as lodgers, and that as I was leaving her of my own accord, and not because she had put me out, I could not claim the month's rent in advance which I had paid, and no lawyer in the land would take my case. Furthermore she assured me that if ever I were to say or write a word against her, or reveal what had taken place, she would follow me to the ends of the earth and my life would pay the forfeit.
After playing my part in this thrilling drama I went to the house of a friend and stayed awake some nights in memory of it.
S. Y. J., a public school teacher, professed profound admiration for the Chinese, as a nation, and almost gushing affection for myself, as a friend. She was a bright and interesting woman and I liked her well for over a year. Yet, when we had a difference, in which I got the better of her, she revenged herself upon me by telling me that a relative of hers, who was also a teacher, was very much annoyed with her, because she would persist in being my friend, and cooingly added: "Isn’t it mean of her? I tell her you are such a dear little thing. But she won't listen, only says: 'I'm sure she eats rats. All those Chinese do. And you needn’t bring her to dinner because I don’t know how to cook rats.' "
Altho the two women quoted are public school teachers, they are the daughters of laboring men, and I have seen them eat fish with a knife (not silver either). It is the educated sons and daughters of uneducated parents who are the most bitterly prejudiced against the Chinese. I have yet to meet a man or woman from a home of refinement and culture who, when worsted in an argument, resorts to the vulgar and cowardly weapon of race prejudice. I have noticed, however, that common people who wish to appear aristocratic and superior are usually the greatest race ranters and patriots: probably because that is the only way in which they can distinguish themselves.
When I last returned from the West I took up my residence in an Eastern town of some note. The house in which I lived was kept by a public school teacher, who was not teaching regularly. One day this teacher, who declared that she had taken a special liking to me, began a tirade against the negro race, and concluded it with: "But tho I despise and have the utmost contempt for the negroes, yet I hate worse the Chinese, who have such horrible ways." "You do, do you," I retorted; “Well, I am Chinese!" She gasped a little and said : "You're jesting, aren't you?" "No," I replied, "I am half Chinese." She told me she would never have guessed it, which she expected me to take as a great compliment. Then she begged me not to enlighten any one in the house as to the fact of my nationality, as she had said it would ruin her business should they know. I suggested that I leave her and take a room elsewhere; but she almost cried at the thought, and so as I do not like to grieve people I agreed to remain quiet; but at the same time reserved to myself the right to speak the truth should they ask me any questions.
As, when lodging around, I like to keep to myself, and dislike gossiping with neighbor roomers, it was no difficult matter to keep my nationality a secret from the other lodgers; but I soon discovered that my landlady, while begging me to keep quiet on the subject, made it her own business to inform certain persons, telling them as I subsequently learned, that she was allowing me to remain in the house out of pity, and because I really did seem like a white person, in some respects. I also began to observe that whenever she came into my room or I ran across her, if alone, she was very friendly and intimate. But when I met her in the company of others, she was a different person altogether, congealed, dignified and remote. I have very sharp ears and once I heard her say to a teacher from the South, “I'm polite to her, but would not think of treating her as an equal,” and the teacher from the South returned, "The only way is to keep them down and order them about. That's how we manage the negroes, even the whitest blooded."
Unlike my landlady, the woman from the South was true to her principles. I can say that much for her, if nothing else. The following morning I met her in the hall, and tho I had never spoken a word to her or she to me, without any preliminary, she gave me this peremptory order: “Run upstairs, and bring down the green cardboard box which I have left on the bureau in my room." Needless to say, the order was not obeyed.
Among the lodgers were several men teachers and professors. These, to whom my nationality had also been whispered, were in the habit of talking about me sotto voce. I heard that they could not understand how a person of inferior race could earn her living in America, thru the exercise of her mental faculties, while native born daughters, lectured, schooled and colleged, were sweeping out rooms and making beds for a living. The whole street in which I lived and many other streets around were full of lodging houses kept by such women, and bitter and warped indeed were the majority of the poor things; I call them poor things, tho there was not one of them but was better off in this world's goods than was I. But to return to the men. One of these told me that there were a couple of them who considered it an honor to be in the same house with me; but I have an idea that that speech was meant for my ears alone. You must understand that I was not supposed to know that any of the lodgers were acquainted with my nationality.
One day my landlady inquired if I did not think that the reason why I was brighter than the ordinary Chinese was because I had white blood in my veins. I answered that I hadn't the slightest doubt that the reason why I was superior to a great many whites was because I had Chinese blood in my veins. She repeated this at an indignation meeting which was held that evening, and one of the learned Ph. D.'s remarked that I was evidently of Tartar origin. Next day my landlady came up primed:
"Don't you think," said she, "that you owe it to the white people who are your friends to refrain from associating, or having anything to do with the Chinese ?" I said that I could not see things that way. I then informed her that a Chinese relative of mine was coming to visit me, and, of course would stay in the same house in which I lived. She appeared, very much perturbed and inquired if the said relative looked Chinese. I assured her that she was Chinese. "Well," said she, "it will ruin my business to have her here. I have not allowed it to be known that you are Chinese." "Then," I replied, “I will have to change my rooming house." She suggested that I find some other place for my relative. It was not necessary that we should live together. But no; where I was, there should be my Chinese relative. She almost cried. I was a permanent lodger, and permanent lodgers are very desirable. The teachers, after all, were only transients. "Oh," she declared, "I have liked you so well and hidden from all the fact that you are Chinese.” The tone of her voice was that of one who says: “You are a thief and a criminal; but for personal reasons I have shielded you.”
I could stand it no longer. I said: “I need no screen. I will not live where I have to be afraid to say what I am proud to be.” Proud! She couldn’t get over that, and, of course, the tale went around, and many curious eyes were leveled upon me as I passed thru the hall that evening, and in a voice loud enough for all to hear, said that I was going out to visit some Chinese relations.
It being an assured thing that I could move away, my landlady had no scruples about speaking her mind for the rest of the time I was there. One of the most would-be cutting things she said to me was: “Do you know what that negro woman who cleans the house every Thursday said to me? She said, ‘I wouldn’t be seen speaking to a Chinese.’” This was immediately after I had received a call from people socially and in ever other sense above the criticism of landladies.
Furthermore, I cannot help feeling and believing that jealousy is at the root of much which I have had to endure.
I live alone, and as my means are limited, entertain not at all. When I go out it is to the library, the art museum, or to the parks and beaches. I am never lonely when I am alone; but have reason to know that my affection for the human family is as warm and perhaps truer than that of many of those who cannot find any pleasure in themselves or away from some social circle. But my work and my double nationality make me object of both friendly and offensive interest to many. I am the recipient of many calls, invitations, letters and communications, sometimes by 'phone and sometimes by card, from persons seeking my acquaintance. Most of these would-be friends and acquaintances are absolute strangers, and it is seldom that I pay any attention to their communications; but occasionally some person who is really interested in my work inspires me to return the courtesy—when I am assured that it is a courtesy. It is only natural that one’s heart should glow to know that one’s work, tho insignificant in itself, is being recognized for what it is worth or what it may lead to. On the other hand, it is oppressive and embarrassing to a woman of mature years to have to be the recipient of letters from men who pretend to entertain sentiments for her which are beyond the bounds of common sense or reason, seeing that the writers do not even know her. It is even worse to be called upon by such persons.
But some women can never forgive another woman for attracting any notice, either from the high or the low. Not even when the notice she received is only because of her nationality, which they claim to despise.
I cannot, however, blame any one for being jealous of and persecuting me for having inspired the following, chosen out of a bright variety of such effusions. The picture drawn is so true of me and so flattering to my vanity that I give it to the world with my high regards to the author:
“Love, to Miss Confucius
“How cold and irresponsive is this Chinese:
Of all the Shes
I’ve pled to—Maid Confucius—
Thou art most curious,
That Love quite fails to touch thy wisdom;
There does not come
A word responsive to its plea.
Farewell, thou coldness!
As bloodless as thy China’s oldness.”
Doesn’t that put the finishing touch to the persecution and oppression of me?
There is also directed against me a jealous persecution which is even harder to combat and much more subtle than the jealousy already complained of. This is the jealousy of those who call themselves the friends of the Chinese. I have experienced this only in the Eastern States.
It is well known that tho there are many good and earnest women teaching religion to the Chinese in America, there are also many who are unfit for teachers in any sense of the word, and who adopt religion as their profession because it is the only profession open to all, and no examination as to qualification is required. These women are usually amiable and easy-going females, who having no particular interest in life and advancing in years (tho some of them are young), take up with the simple Chinese, and no doubt make things, for a while, brighter and pleasanter for the exiles. In return for this they receive and sometimes exact a good part of the Chinaman’s earnings or business profit, if not in cash, at least in presents and finery. The time they devote to the Chinese, and their constant attentions to them, also, in some cases, their staunch defense of the Chinaman against the persecution of the whites, entitle them to what they receive, and more, in a material sense. But all who have at heart the true welfare of the Chinese must take exception to these women, both as teachers of religion and as constant companions to the Chinese men. It needs no abnormal perceptiveness to realize that such teachers of religion make mockery of what is sacred; also that their association with the Chinese gives the Chinese a bad reputation, and causes the unthinking mass of whites to look upon them as beguilers of white women; whereas, the fact is, it is the Chinese who are the beguiled. Hence, the persecution of the Chinese by the Eastern Americans.
The intimate friendship of white women with Chinese men is the chief cause of the troubles of the Chinese in the Eastern States. In the Western cities, where the white women do not associate familiarly with the Chinese, there is no persecution to speak of and the Chinese name is not held in contempt, as in the East.
Thirdly—and this is the gravest reason of all to me why the state of affairs described above should not be—is because nearly all the Chinese in America are married men, and their wives and children in China, looking forward for their return, often have to wait much longer than they otherwise would because of this friendship between the Chinese and the white women, who, tho not by any means bad women, work much mischief in the families of the Chinese.
Now, these things I have pointed out to some of my Chinese friends, and the result has been that several of them are now devoting themselves strictly to business, while others are making preparations to return to their homes in China. It has been hard for me to do this. It makes life so much pleasanter for yourself if you will smile at wrong and call it right, as many good people advise us to do. Everybody will love you then, and you will have all kinds of good things showered upon you. But the love of everybody is no temptation to me, and I have never had any desire to accumulate riches. All my ambition is to make myself useful, known, heard and admired by the wise and the brave. "Naked we came into the world, naked we go out of it." So, when I see my friend about to drown, I do not stop to think whether holding him by the hair will hurt him or not.
Yet these women, failing to see things as I see them, are consumed with a foolish antagonism toward me, and, as I am told by some of the Chinese, are endeavoring with all their might and main to undermine what little influence I have. In more than one case of the more ignorant Chinese they have succeeded. This, of course, is to be expected under the circumstances, and what I complain of is not so much the success of their campaign as their methods and means. For instance, in their jealous prejudice, they will tell the Chinese that altho I am just as much Chinese as white, yet I live among the whites and associate with them on much more intimate terms than I do with the Chinese; that I am ashamed to be seen on the streets with the Chinese, save those of the higher class, and consider myself above them in every sense. Naturally the Chinese become worked up, and it is hard for me to explain to them that there are class distinctions as well as race, and that it would he quite beneath my dignity, and certainly be of little benefit to them, for me to tramp around with them to 10-cent shows and Chinese banquets, as do these women, who have nothing better to do. Also, that tho my left half is Chinese, yet I have been brought up entirely among Europeans, and for many years my circle of friends and relations embraced no Chinese save one parent. They will say (these are the exact words of one) : "You have the Chinese hands, the Chinese voice, the Chinese hair. Back of your head you look just like a Chinese, and you have the Chinese little figure. You are more Chinese than white. You know more about the Chinese than the Chinese know themselves. But you live with the white people and you must like them best."
So I stand. It is all very amusing, of course; but at the same time, very distressing.
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