Negotiating Identities in Hong Kong, Canada: Opening Small Doors
Tara Goldstein
University of Toronto
It's not just another wave of immigrants. Over 20 years, 142,000
from Hong Kong have moved here. With ambition, money and a strong
identity, they're changing the city's face. (The Toronto Star,
1996, November 10)
As a Chinese Canadian, I struggle to find acceptance in either
Eastern or Western society. This piece represents the beginning
of my search through my culture, my heritage, my surroundings and
myself for acceptance . . . (Yeung, 1997)
My role for these kids is to open doors . . . And whether they
go through them is always their choice. But that's the teaching
technique . . . They're small doors that we opento allow them
to open the bigger doors . . . As teachers [that's] what we have
to do, whether we're educators, parents, we open small doors. (Edgars,
1997)
Abstract
This paper recounts the journey taken by a young
Chinese-Canadian artist and her high school art teacher as they begin
to negotiate who they are in a city and a school that has recently
seen the arrival of a large number of immigrants from Hong Kong. Analyzing
the student's art work as a pedagogical project that not only promotes
the positive development of self-identities but that also challenges
anti-immigrant ideas that structure relationships both inside and
outside the school, I re-tell the story of how a group of students
and their teacher use art to work across linguistic differences and
resist linguistic discrimination.
Introduction
This is an ethnographic case study about an 18-year-old
Canadian artist named Evelyn Yeung and her prize-winning art piece
"Journey to Acceptance." It is also a study of Evelyn's
art teacher, Leslie Edgars, who attempts to "open small doors"
for the students in her art class. Evelyn's art piece symbolizes her
and Leslie's efforts to negotiate identities in a school and a city
that has recently seen increased immigration from Hong Kong. The importance
of such efforts has been discussed by Cummins (1996), who believes
that the negotiation of identities at school is central to student
learning. Identities are formed and negotiated through everyday interactions
among teachers, students, and the communities the students belong
to. Importantly, these interactions are never neutral. In varying
degrees, they either reinforce "coercive relations of power"
(the exercise of power over people) or "promote collaborative
relations of power" (the creation of power with people).
By reinforcing coercive relations of power, teachers contribute to
the subordination of minority students and communities. By promoting
collaborative relations of power, they are able to participate in
"a process of empowerment" that encourages students and
communities to challenge the operation of coercive power structures
(1996, p. 19). Analyzing Evelyn's art work as a project that challenges
"coercive relations of power" (Cummins, 1996) both inside
and outside the school, I hope to illustrate how teachers like Leslie
Edgars are able to provide opportunities for their language and racial
minority students to resist society's "confining or demeaning
or contemptible picture of themselves" (Taylor, 1994, p. 25).
Background
This case study is part of a larger three-year study
that was undertaken in the Canadian city of Toronto from 1996 to 1999.
The critical ethnographic project explored everyday language practices
in a multilingual high school (grades 10-13) that had recently enrolled
a large number of immigrant students from Hong Kong. When the project
began in 1996, 35% of the student body used Cantonese as their primary
language. The other primary languages used by students were English
(38%), Mandarin (6%), Farsi (5%), and Korean (4%). The goal of the
study was to examine the linguistic strategies bilingual Cantonese-English
students and their teachers developed for achieving academic and social
success at school. The findings of the study revealed that different
kinds of language practices created different kinds of linguistic,
social, and academic dilemmas and issues for both teachers and students
in the school. Influenced by contemporary Canadian discourses and
policies around immigration and minority language use, these dilemmas
and issues were complex and required skillful negotiation. This case
study focuses on a set of issues experienced by Evelyn Young, a Canadian-born
Chinese student in the school who was often marked as an immigrant
from Hong Kong because she was Chinese.
During the three years of fieldwork undertaken at
the school, the research team and I spent time observing and interviewing
students and teachers in a variety of classrooms and subjects. The
data collected as part of this case study comes from Leslie Edgar's
senior art class, which was beginning a painting assignment when we
began our observations. As Leslie asked her students to write reflection
pieces in their art journals during the painting assignment, the data
I use here comes from Evelyn's journal reflections (which she sometimes
read aloud to me) as well as from several interviews with both Evelyn
and Leslie. At the end of the painting project, I asked Evelyn to
join the research team and paid her to write a final reflection about
creating her art piece.
As mentioned earlier, "Journey to Acceptance"
is an art piece that symbolizes Evelyn and Leslie's efforts to negotiate
personal and professional identities in their multilingual, multicultural,
multiracial school. To analyze the journey that Leslie and Evelyn
took together, I will draw upon Cummins' notions of coercive and collaborative
power and Lippi-Green's (1997) ideas on the language subordination
process. However, in order to introduce readers to the issues Leslie
and Evelyn needed to negotiate, I will begin with a discourse analysis
of what it means to teach and learn in a city and school that has
recently seen increased immigration from Hong Kong.
Teaching and Learning in
"Hong Kong, Canada"
As can be seen in the quotation that opens this piece,
there is some anxiety about the number of Hong Kong immigrants who
have come to live in Toronto. The headline printed over Vanessa Lu's
report in The Toronto Star characterized Hong Kong immigrants
as people who were "changing the city's face" from one that
had historically been mostly European and white to one that was increasingly
Chinese. The title of the report, "Hong Kong, Canada,"
was typed in enormous bold-faced letters that dominated the page the
story appeared on. The headline shaped what Canadians are to make
of this latest "wave" of immigration. Canada was being invaded
by large numbers of immigrants from Hong Kong. We were no longer living
in Canada, we were living in "Hong Kong, Canada."
The discourse of invasion that emerged can be related
to a perceived threat of shifting economic power bases in Canada.
In her contribution to the feature, demographics reporter Elaine Carey
began her article with the following lead:
They're younger, more educated and they hold better
jobs than the average person in the Greater Toronto area. They're
the 142,300 Hong Kong immigrants who have flocked to the GTA, largely
in the past 20 years. They now make up 15 per cent of all new immigrants
to Canada each yearan average of about 40,000making them
the largest group from any one country, as well as the wealthiest.
(The Toronto Star, 1996, November 10)
The article continued to report about the wealth
that some Hong Kong immigrants bring into Canada. For example, there
was a picture of the owner of Toronto's Metropolitan Hotel, sandwiched
between two headlines: "To Canada, with cash" and "Hong
Kong money likes GTA." There was also a description of how Hong
Kong immigrants had "changed the look of much of the city"
by financing the building of 50 "Chinese malls" in the Greater
Toronto area (The Toronto Star, 1996, November 10). However,
what was missing from the "Hong Kong, Canada" feature
was any detailed reporting on fact that, overall, Hong Kong
immigrants are poorer than Canadian-born people and other immigrants.
At the very end of her article, Carey reported that 25% of all immigrants
from Hong Kong live below the low-income cut-off compared with 15%
of those who were born in Canada and 19% of all immigrants. Highlighted
in a different way, with pictures of Hong Kong immigrant families
struggling to make ends meet in a new country, such statistics could
have done much to challenge the idea that Hong Kong immigrants were
buying up Canada with their Hong Kong cash. Buried at the very end
of the article, however, the statistics on the poverty of 25% of Hong
Kong immigrants did not make much of an impact on the reader. The
Star's discourse of invasion went unchallenged. And it made its
way into 18-year-old Evelyn Yeung's life.
Opening Small Doors
As mentioned earlier, Leslie Edgars asked each of
her art students to keep a journal as they planned and carried out
their painting projects. Here is an excerpt from Evelyn's first journal
entry, which she read aloud to me in an interview.
. . . Yesterday I was reading in The Toronto
Star and there was an article on how people, not only Chinese,
are learning Mandarin because of China and Hong Kong. The doors in
mainland China are slowly opening. I am disgraced that other people
of other backgrounds learn Mandarin and Cantonese when I, of Chinese
background, cannot read or write my own dialect of Chinese . . . It's
frustrating going into Chinese malls when, where everywhere it's Chinese,
and I'm practically illiterate. (Interview, 1996, November
20)
After provoking a claim of "illiteracy"
in Chinese, Evelyn's reflection about shopping in a "Chinese
mall" is followed by a description of an embarrassing experience
she had in an English-speaking department store. Note the way that
the discourse of invasion described above is reflected in Evelyn's
first art journal entry and marks the beginning of her "Journey
to Acceptance."
Last month when I was shopping at the Bay with my
friend, out of the P.A. system came someone speaking Chinese. My friend
and I felt embarrassed. What made me feel more embarrassed was that
there was a customer that was complaining to a cashier about it and
looking directly at me. Sometimes I wish there was a distinct way
of separating us Canadian-born ones with the ones from Hong Kong .
. . Earlier this year I read in the newspaper about how the people
in Richmond Hill (a suburb located north of Toronto) were complaining
about the signs on the stores. They said that the English is too small
and the Chinese is too big on the stores, store signs. There were
more complaints but I do not remember them right now . . . The Chinese
immigrants of the past few years, I heard a lot of them say that they
will return to Hong Kong after university, or if, or if Hong Kong
is okay [politically stable after return of Hong Kong to China in
July 1997]. I get mad sometimes when they say that because they are
competing for the same spots in university as, as us. And they are
changing the whole Toronto, yet they are going back to Hong Kong .
. . (Interview, 1996, November 20)
Leslie Edgars is a teacher who wants to open small
doors for her students so that they can open the bigger doors for
themselves. Doors can be understood as metaphors for insights into
life issues. When Leslie's students start opening doors, they shed
light on the personal, social and political issues that impact their
everyday lives. After reading Evelyn's first journal entry, Leslie
suggested that Evelyn consider doing a painting that expressed how
she felt about the Chinese language. The two talked about Evelyn undertaking
an abstract painting and then discussed the idea of Evelyn creating
her own alphabet or her own language. A third option was Leslie's
suggestion that Evelyn learn how to write in Chinese from one of her
Hong Kongese classmates. She thought that the experience of learning
to write in Chinese might provide Evelyn with something that she could
use for her painting.
Learning to Write in Chinese
Taking up Leslie's third suggestion, Evelyn began
learning how to write Chinese characters from several of her classmates
who were born and educated in Hong Kong. The characters that Evelyn
asked her classmates to teach her were those that had some meaning
or relevance for her. Many came from the journal entries she was keeping.
The first word that Evelyn asked one of her classmates, Peter, to
teach her was "Hong Kong." As she began working with Peter,
Evelyn began to remember childhood experiences of learning to write
in Chinese.
(Reading from her second journal entry) The
black ink brought back all memory, all the memories of Chinese school
on Saturday, where the Chinese, where the teacher walked around criticizing
the way you held the brush . . . For the first couple of characters
I followed Peter's brush stroke. But I sort of knew that he was sort
of uneasy `cause I didn't follow it completely, properly. As well,
there was my audience of grade eleven and grade twelves (Evelyn
was a grade 13 student) who kept saying that it wasn't right .
. . I really didn't want to disappoint them by writing it wrong .
. . I felt sort of uncomfortable that everyone was looking at my characters
. . . [S]ome people in the class were sort of poking fun at my characters
. . . Sometimes when I am talking to people from Hong Kong, they poke
fun at my Chinese if I don't pronounce it clearly. Same thing when
I'm speaking English. People poke fun at my pronunciation. I wish
I never belonged to either [group], I wish I either belonged to either
[one group] or [the other]. I never knew that learning how to write
Chinese could in, involve interaction with so many people. Two other
grade elevens (who were not critical) came over to see what
I was doing. What a surprise! I felt that everyone wanted to be part
of my process. And at that, that moment, [came] my peace. It felt
great to write Chinese again. Writing Chinese helped me interact more
with the grade elevens and twelves, something I wasn't expecting.
Even though my Chinese, my Chinese characters are not going to earn
me an award, it did help me communicate and learn from other people
in the class. . . . (Interview, 1997, November 20)
Evelyn's childhood memories and critical comments
from some of her classmates frustrated her and made her feel uneasy
and uncomfortable. These feelings of discomfort were so strong that
she wished she had only learned English or Cantonese because being
monolingual would mean that she could speak in a way that would not
allow people to "poke fun" at her pronunciation (in either
English or Cantonese). It would also mean that she would be able to
write Chinese "properly." In thinking about how and why
people learn to value some varieties of language (like mainstream/standard
English or Chinese) and not others (like Cantonese English or English
Cantonese), Lippi-Green's (1997) model of the language subordination
process is very helpful. The model Lippi-Green presents grew out of
her analysis of public commentary on English language use and language
communities. According to her, people learn to value a particular
variety of language over another through the following processes and
practices:
Language is mystified
You can never hope to comprehend the difficulties and complexities
of your mother tongue without expert guidance.
Authority is claimed
Talk like me/us. We know what we are doing because we have studied
language, because we write well.
Misinformation is generated
That usage you are so attached to is inaccurate. The variant
I prefer is superior on historical, aesthetic, or logical grounds.
Non-mainstream language is trivialized
Look how cute, how homey, how funny.
Conformers are held up as positive examples
See what you can accomplish if you only try, how far you can
get if you see the light.
Explicit promises are made
Employers will take you seriously; doors will open.
Threats are made
No one important will take you seriously; doors will close.
Non-conformers are vilified or marginalized
See how willfully stupid, arrogant, unknowing, uninformed, and/or
deviant and unrepresentative these speakers are. (pp. 67-69)
Of the eight practices Lippi-Green has identified,
two seem particularly relevant to Evelyn's uneasiness about learning
to write Chinese characters: claiming/giving mainstream language authority
and trivializing non-mainstream language. At the very beginning, when
she attempted to follow Peter's brush stroke, Evelyn felt that he
was uneasy because she wasn't following his strokes "properly".
Similarly, a number of students watching her initial attempts to follow
Peter's brush strokes told Evelyn that she wasn't "doing
it right". Here Evelyn and her audience gave Peter's brush strokes
authority. Evelyn absorbed Peter's (perceived) uneasiness because
she was not writing like hima person who learned to write characters
in Hong Kong, a person who wrote well. When some of her classmates
poked fun at her first attempts to draw Chinese characters, Evelyn
was reminded of the times other people from Hong Kong had poked fun
of the variety of Chinese she spoke and of the times that English-speakers
had poked fun of the variety of English she spoke. Here Evelyn's use
of non-mainstream languageboth Chinese and Englishwas
being trivialized.
While Evelyn experienced feelings of discomfort as
she began to learn how to write Chinese characters, she also experienced
some excitement, as her classmates become interested in her art project.
Their interest helped her associate positive feelings with writing
Chinese. As she says in a final reflection piece that I asked her
to write at the end of school year,
I was delighted and relieved that they were excited
to help and teach. Although some of them criticized my character strokes,
it didn't matter. I was the center of attention. And I really, really
enjoyed it. (1997, July 31)
Evelyn's delight with the recognition she received
from her classmates mitigated the discomfort she felt when people
criticized her brush strokes. Even though her first attempts at drawing
characters were trivialized, Evelyn herself was not "vilified
or marginalized" as a non-conformer. This was something she had
been anticipating.
The first word was shaky. In fact the first column
was shaky. I braced myself for all the nasty comments that would burst
out of the mouth of the students. But there wasn't any. I was surprised.
The second column was less intimidating. As the columns progressed,
I became more confident
The strokes were more powerful and
expressive. (1997, July 31)
Evelyn's use of the words "less intimidating,"
and "more powerful" in this reflection asks us to think
about her work in terms of power. Cummins (1996) tells us that the
process by which students and teachers negotiate identities in classroom
and school interactions can play a major role in determining how students
feel about themselves and how they feel about others. In her interactions
with Evelyn around her journal entries, Leslie Edgars opened a small
door and provided Evelyn with a space to explore identity issues by
learning Cantonese from a classmate from Hong Kong. In a school and
a city that is struggling with the use of Cantonese in public spaces,
Leslie and Evelyn's work can be seen as a pedagogical project that
challenges coercive relations of power underlying standard English
ideology and traditional roles of authority in the classroom (Goldstein
and Lam, 1998). Outside Leslie's art classroom, there is debate in
the student newspaper around the publication of bilingual Chinese-English
advertisements, the use of Cantonese at the students' annual Talent
Night and the use of Cantonese at a Karaoke event scheduled during
Spirit Week. There are also teachers who are experimenting with English-only
policies in their classrooms in an attempt to encourage their ESL
students to speak and practice English. Inside Leslie's art classroom,
Evelyn Yeung learns to write in Chinese charactersusing both
Cantonese and Englishso she can express her feelings about being
a Canadian-born Chinese woman living in "Hong Kong, Canada."
Importantly, the students' use of Cantonese to complete the project
requires Leslie to negotiate a new identity for herself as a teacher
in her classroom. Not able to understand the Cantonese the students
are using while they assist Evelyn in learning to write Chinese characters,
Leslie must ask the students to translate what they are saying into
English so that she can enter their dialogue. Having to ask students
to translate their words shifts traditional relations of authority
in Linda's classroom: she must request and be given permission to
enter her students' conversations.
I've always dialogued with the kids but you can't
do that around here if, if they are speaking Cantonese . . . So you
have to engage more with the students . . . [Y]ou almost have to bring
up a chair and kind of just sit there and say, "Okay I'm here
now and you, I, I don't understand what you're talking about. So either
you have to teach me your language or let's talk, let's find a place
where we can talk because this is my job and I need to know what you're
doing. So can I come in? (1997, February 13).
Returning the ethnographic gaze toward Evelyn, there
are a number of important questions we can raise: What is Evelyn able
to do with the collaborative space she is provided within Leslie's
classroom? What kind of impact did her artwork have on how she felt
about herself and how she felt about others? In answering these questions,
I turn to excerpts from Evelyn's last written reflection.
It took me a long time to have my first [writing] lesson. I was
scared. I was scared of Peter. I was scared of the brush. I was
scared of what the other students would think. I was scared of everything.
It wasn't until a couple characters later that I was more relaxed.
I really started to have fun. I talked to many of the Grade 12's
and they were eager to help me. It wasn't like I thought. People
were willing to help you.
I have lost the bitterness I felt toward Hong Kong people, because
I had the opportunity to know some of them better. I know that they
are losing a home back to China. They don't know what is going to
happen in China. Some of them don't even know what they are now.
They don't have China citizenship, but they don't have a Canadian
passport yet. They don't have a place of birth. They are in the
middle, too, like me. I sympathize with them, but when Hong Kong
was given back to China on July 1, I felt nothing. I was just an
observer of a historical moment in history, but many of my friends
were scared of what might happen to their family and friends. I
am beginning to see their side of the story. I have become closer
to many classmates from this experience. I have learned that there
are Chinese people from Hong Kong who want to be your friend and
that not all people are mean and cruel. (1997, July 31)
Learning to write Chinese characters in her art class
provided Evelyn with an opportunity to interact with classmates that
she had resented. The particular interpersonal space that she and
her classmates created through their work together produced surprises
that shattered some of the stereotypes that she had been holding.
Evelyn found out that people from Hong Kong were willing to help her;
that they, too, were in between cultures and that they, too, had a
side to the immigration story that she had not heard. Having shared
personal, intimate interactions around issues of language, identity,
and immigration with those she had perceived as "other."
Toward the very end of her last reflection piece,
Evelyn wrote, "Sometimes it is not the artwork that is important,
but the process along the way and what the piece stands for."
Evelyn's "Journey to Acceptance" was a project that ruptured
the discourse of invasion that weaved itself in and out of Northside.
In an economic and political era where art, drama, and music programs
are all at risk of being cut from secondary school programs in Ontario
and other provinces and states across North America, the story of
Evelyn's engagement with issues of immigration, language, and identity
in her art class is an important story. Teachers of the arts, like
Leslie Edgars, who help students shed light on personal and social
issues that impact on their lives have much to contribute to their
students' education. Understanding the kind of work that goes on in
the art classroom provides a clearer idea of what we lose when funding
for arts programs are cut.
References
Cameron, D., Frazer, E., Harvey, P., Rampton, M.
B. H., & Richardson, K. (Eds). (1992). Researching language:
Issues of power and method. London and New York: Routledge.
Cummins, J. (1996). Negotiating identities: Education
for empowerment in a diverse society. Ontario, CA: CABE (California
Association for Bilingual Education).
Edgars, L. (1997). [Interview]. Unpublished raw data.
Gitlin, A. (Ed.) (1994). Power and method: Political
activism and educational research. London and New York:
Routledge.
Goldstein, T., & Lam, C. S.M. (1998). Negotiating
identity In "Hong Kong, Canada." Unpublished paper presented
at TESOL '98, Seattle, Washington.
Hammersley, M., & Atkinson, P. (1995). Field
relations. In Ethnography: principles in practice (2nd Ed.).
New York: Routledge.
Lippi-Green, R. (1997). English with an accent:
Language, ideology, and discrimination in the United States. New
York: Routledge.
Lu, V. (1996, November 10). Hong Kong, Canada. The
Toronto Star, p. B1.
Taylor, C. (1994). Multiculturalism: Examining
the politics of recognition. Princeton, NJ: Princeton University
Press.
Yeung, E. (1997). [Art show speech]. Unpublished
raw data.
Endnotes
1 The names of the teacher and the school in this
article are pseudonyms.
2 The ethnographic stories discussed in this piece
are stories we have "borrowed" (Goldstein and Lam, 1998)
from Evelyn Yeung and Leslie Edgars to discuss issues of language,
identity, and discrimination facing both immigrant and Canadian-born
Chinese high school students in Toronto. We share these stories with
Evelyn and Leslie's permission. As well, Evelyn and Leslie have seen
an earlier draft of this paper and have told us that they are satisfied
with the way their stories have been re-told in this piece. For further
discussion on power relations between researchers and research participants
see Cameron, Frazer, Harvey, Rampton and Richardson, 1992; Cohran-Smith
and Lytle, 1993; Gitlin, 1994; and Hammersley and Atkinson, 1995.
3 This three-year project was funded through a Social
Sciences and Humanities Research Council of Canada (SSHRCC) grant.
I would like to acknowledge and thank SHRRCC for its support. I would
also like to acknowledge and thank research assistant Judith Ngan
who collected data in year one of the project and co-collaborator
Cindy Lam for her contributions to the analysis of Evelyn's "Journey
to Acceptance".
4 The perception that Toronto's "face"
has been mostly European and white ignores the historical and contemporary
presence of Canada's Aboriginal/First Nations people who have always
been part of the city's face. It also ignores the historical presence
of non-European and non-white immigrants who have not only been part
of the city's face since the beginning of what Aboriginal scholars
call "the contact period," but who have contributed to building
of the city and the country.
5 "Chinese malls" are shopping malls in
which the names of stores are written in Chinese. Sometimes store
signs are bilingual, written in both Chinese and English.
6 While English-only policies are usually viewed
as a way that teachers reproduce coercive relations of power in the
classroom, it is possible to distinguish between English-only policies
that demand students "speak" English and policies that demand
that students "practice" English. Teachers who base their
classroom English-only policies on the understanding that their students
who speak mostly Chinese outside of class need opportunities to "practice"
English to do well academically have different assumptions about the
place of English in their students' lives than that do teachers who
implement English-only policies because they believe that English
is a symbol of successful assimilation and that English is the only
possible language of a unified and healthy nation.
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