Many parents tell their children never talk to strangers. But Curtis Chin’s parents urged their six kids to ask customers at their Chinese restaurant about their background.
It was their way of showing the children a world outside the Detroit restaurant’s four walls.
“That is something my parents taught me — not to be afraid of people, not to be afraid to ask questions, not to be afraid of asking for help even,” Chin said in a phone interview from his Los Angeles home. “I would have to say that the Chinese restaurant and my parents are probably my greatest teachers in life.”
Photo: AP
From co-founding the Asian American Writers’ Workshop to producing documentaries like Vincent Who? about the 1982 killing of Vincent Chin, Curtis Chin has been championing other Asian Americans for over 30 years. Now, it’s his turn in the spotlight.
His memoir, Everything I Learned, I Learned in a Chinese Restaurant, comes out Tuesday. The book, his first, has made several fall “must-read” lists including in The Washington Post and Time magazine. It’s a candid, sometimes funny reflection on growing up Chinese American and gay in Detroit in the ‘70s and ‘80s.
Chin delves into racism, gay rights and other social justice issues, but not by force-feeding them. Like a welcoming restaurant server, he invites the reader to share in digestible bites of memories from childhood up through college graduation. Instead of chapters, anecdotes are dished out in menu sections such as “appetizers and soups,” “rice and noodles” and “main entrees.” They just happen to be stories that are emblematic of that time in Detroit and the country at large, including epidemics of crime, drugs and AIDS.
Photo: AP
Despite all this, it’s not a ”misery memoir,” Chin said. “While the city did have a lot of challenges, I also wanted people to see the other side of Detroit, which is the good that came out of it,” Chin said. “I wouldn’t trade my childhood for anything. I really loved growing up in Detroit.”
FAMILY TRAJECTORY
The trajectory of the Chin family business matches the ups and downs of the city’s Chinatown. Chin’s great-grandfather opened Chung’s Cantonese Cuisine in 1940 in Detroit’s original Chinatown. The restaurant became a community hub and, like other businesses, relocated in 1960 when the city demolished the area for a highway and other development.
Chung’s moved to Cass Avenue. The Cass Corridor became a second Chinatown. That’s where Chin, born in 1968, spent his formative years. Chung’s closed in 2000, after 60 years and an estimated “10 million eggrolls.”
In its heyday, Chung’s drew in customers who varied across race and class. Local politicians, journalists and drag queens are among the patrons Chin recalls in the book. How his parents treated each person made an impression.
“It didn’t matter if you were the mayor of Detroit or if you were the pimp and prostitute standing on the street corner,” Chin said. “They really tried to judge each customer for who they were as a person. And that’s a value that my parents really taught me.”
Roland Hwang, a Detroit native who co-founded American Citizens for Justice a year after Vincent Chin’s racially motivated killing, has fond childhood memories of a bustling Chinatown. He would watch butchers chopping up chickens, or get a dragon puppet and play with other Chinese American kids. Chung’s was among the restaurants he ate at. It wasn’t until 1999 that he met Curtis Chin and they became friends. Hwang thinks the memoir does a service for the community.
“This book sort of raises the profile of this aspect of history of Chinese Americans in Detroit. Physically speaking, there’s not much left of the Chinatown,” Hwang said. “People don’t realize how fragile ethnic enclaves are whether it’s Chinatown or J-Town (Japantown).”
When Chin started writing a decade ago, he envisioned a “family comedy” memoir with his grandparents as a focal point. But when the national conversation shifted in 2020 with George Floyd’s killing and pandemic-driven anti-Asian hate, he shifted his focus to growing up Asian American and working class.
Recent hate crimes have evoked comparisons to Vincent Chin’s beating death at the hands of two white autoworkers outside his bachelor party. The assailants blamed foreign competition for the auto industry’s hardships and assumed he was Japanese.
PERSONAL INCIDENT
The slaying was personal for Curtis Chin. Their families were not related but knew each other. Curtis Chin’s uncle was Vincent Chin’s best man. In his memoir, Chin describes the sadness and outrage in the community when the attackers only got probation and a US$3,000 fine for a manslaughter plea. It was a watershed moment for Asian Americans nationwide, including Chin, then a high school freshman.
“I feel like that’s why I’ve spent so much of my life trying to open up opportunities for more people of color or more Asian Americans to tell our stories, because I feel like that’s what’s going to improve our lives or help prevent the next Vincent Chin,” Chin said.
His book has inspired an exhibition at the Detroit Historical Museum. “Detroit’s Chinatowns” opened earlier this month. Lily Chen, who curated the exhibit, said 20 people were interviewed for oral histories. Several others contributed artifacts, including a 70-year-old mahjong set, as well as videos and photos. Chin will give a talk on the book there on Nov. 12.
“Seeing people like Curtis of a generation above mine do this really brave thing of telling their story is such a big inspiration for wanting to trace the long history of Detroit’s Chinatown,” said Chen, who like Chin is Asian American and a member of the LGBTQ+ community.
“When older generations of people tell their story, it is so incredibly powerful for younger generations because it says not only are we here today, we’ve been here.”
Chin’s work elevating Asian Americans is coming full circle as many want to show up for him on his book tour. Asian American and Pacific Islander groups are behind several upcoming events.
“I just can’t impress upon it enough how much I feel like my whole community is rallying behind me for this book,” Chin said. “In some ways, being an older author coming out with my first book in my 50s, it’s been easier because of this.”
The Democratic Progressive Party (DPP), Chinese Nationalist Party (KMT), and the country’s other political groups dare not offend religious groups, says Chen Lih-ming (陳立民), founder of the Taiwan Anti-Religion Alliance (台灣反宗教者聯盟). “It’s the same in other democracies, of course, but because political struggles in Taiwan are extraordinarily fierce, you’ll see candidates visiting several temples each day ahead of elections. That adds impetus to religion here,” says the retired college lecturer. In Japan’s most recent election, the Liberal Democratic Party lost many votes because of its ties to the Unification Church (“the Moonies”). Chen contrasts the progress made by anti-religion movements in
Taiwan doesn’t have a lot of railways, but its network has plenty of history. The government-owned entity that last year became the Taiwan Railway Corp (TRC) has been operating trains since 1891. During the 1895-1945 period of Japanese rule, the colonial government made huge investments in rail infrastructure. The northern port city of Keelung was connected to Kaohsiung in the south. New lines appeared in Pingtung, Yilan and the Hualien-Taitung region. Railway enthusiasts exploring Taiwan will find plenty to amuse themselves. Taipei will soon gain its second rail-themed museum. Elsewhere there’s a number of endearing branch lines and rolling-stock collections, some
Last week the State Department made several small changes to its Web information on Taiwan. First, it removed a statement saying that the US “does not support Taiwan independence.” The current statement now reads: “We oppose any unilateral changes to the status quo from either side. We expect cross-strait differences to be resolved by peaceful means, free from coercion, in a manner acceptable to the people on both sides of the Strait.” In 2022 the administration of Joe Biden also removed that verbiage, but after a month of pressure from the People’s Republic of China (PRC), reinstated it. The American
This was not supposed to be an election year. The local media is billing it as the “2025 great recall era” (2025大罷免時代) or the “2025 great recall wave” (2025大罷免潮), with many now just shortening it to “great recall.” As of this writing the number of campaigns that have submitted the requisite one percent of eligible voters signatures in legislative districts is 51 — 35 targeting Chinese Nationalist Party (KMT) caucus lawmakers and 16 targeting Democratic Progressive Party (DPP) lawmakers. The pan-green side has more as they started earlier. Many recall campaigns are billing themselves as “Winter Bluebirds” after the “Bluebird Action”