Thursday, July 08, 2010

The Chinese Autograph Book Mystery -- SOLVED!


The Fourth of July is my second favorite holiday. Love it all -- kids running in and out the back door, hot dogs and hamburgers sizzling on the grill, a chilled glass of Clean Slate, and fireworks by the lake in the backyard. Our celebration never varies much, but that's okay. We've got it patented and we're sticking with the original. This year did bring a couple surprises though. The first came during the fireworks finale which, though not exactly a D.C. extravaganza, was pretty good for the city of Medina, Ohio in the midst of a recession. As psychedelic palm trees exploded in the sky a strange, eerie sight provided contrast on the ground. At first it looked like moving patches of dark fog, but as our eyes adjusted we discerned the shape of at least a hundred geese running toward the water single-file in a long line -- an unbroken silhouette.

The second surprise came as I was back in the house serving dessert.

“Hey, mom, did you get my email?” my oldest daughter asked as I sliced the chocolate cherry cake.

“No. What email?”

“The one where I told you I solved the Chinese autograph mystery.”

After Mom finished screaming (Mom is rather excitable), Mo shared an incredible story which you can read in its entirety by clicking over to my original post "Mystery of the Chinese Autograph Book" (June) and scrolling down to her comment which includes two excellent links. It turns out that my previous suppositions were dead wrong. The Chinese kids who signed their names and shared their photographs in the book were not here for shipbuilding, missionary zeal, OR the transcontinental railway. They were here as part of a little known alliance between the United States and the Chinese government called the Burlingame Treaty, signed in 1868 to provide an American education for Chinese students.

Imagine when the first twenty kids, aged ten to sixteen, got off the boat in 1872 sporting long Chinese queues and traditional Eastern dress. Scared,excited,confused, dazed by the myriad sights and sounds, they were ushered into private Connecticut homes to live with strangers. It had to have been mind-blowing on both sides! And yet it not only happened, but it went on for five years until the Chinese built a school with dormitories at 352 Collins Street in Hartford. By then the students were teenagers who immediately dubbed it Hell House. Like many immigrant children, the boys in the book had embraced American ways (and also American girls who liked them immensely). Gone were the queues and the traditional dress. Gone, too, the ancient Confucian religion, supplanted by the Christianity of their hosts.

Needless to say, the Chinese government harbored deep concerns about this loss of culture and religion. So when a wave of anti-Chinese sentiment rolled across the country following the influx of cheap labor from China to build the Transcontinental Railway the die was cast. In 1881 the Chinese boys went home, thus ending in its ninth year a program that was supposed to last twenty.

Now that I know its story, the autograph book feels different to me, like an artifact the History Detectives on PBS might have searched he globe to verify. I gaze at the handsome young faces framed by American hairstyles to match their American suits and wonder what became of each boy. I decided to photograph the book with the American flag not because Mo solved the mystery on the Fourth, but because the book’s story is such a uniquely American one. Today, more than a century later, the children of immigrants continue to assimilate. Their parents continue to wring their hands in despair and struggle to hold on to the old ways. Native born Americans continue to vent their frustrations on the immigrants. And the long, unbroken line of silohuettes runs on.

2 comments:

Unknown said...

Wandered over to BookThink for the first time in a couple of months and saw that your blog is alive and well again (I've neglected mine too). Nice to see you writing again.

tess said...

Thanks. I wandered over there myself just lately and didn't see you anywhere. Glad you're back.