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Emma Too Tom - Courtesy of Art Tom, and "Images of America: Oakland's Chinatown" by William Wong Arcadia Publishing Co. (2004)

Chinese New Year is a time of fireworks, red envelopes and lots of food. In case you missed the party in Oakland’s Chinatown this month, you can still get a taste of Chinese culture. The recently released book, “Historic Photos of the Chinese in California,” author and historian Hannah Clayborn curates a century of Chinese life in black and white.

Clayborn, an Oakland native, offered OaklanderOnline a little context for her compilation with Turner Publishing:

OO: Oakland is just one of the cities featured in “Historic Photos of the Chinese in California.” But of the photos taken in the city, a few images stand out. One is of a stunning woman in a floor-length dress, who looks at the camera with confidence. The caption reads,Emma Hoo Tom, activist and daughter of Oakland Chinatown’s prominent Lee family.” Who was she?

HC: Oh, yeah, my heroine. Here is the story with info from William Wong: Emma Hoo Tom was one of two Oakland Chinese-American women to be the first of their race and gender to register to vote in the United States. She achieved that in 1911, when she was 22 years old. The other woman was Clara Chan Lee, wife on pioneering Oakland dentist Dr. Charles Lee. Their history-making activism came at a time when American women had just won voting rights. Their husbands, who were active in the Native Sons of the Golden State (later called the Chinese American Citizens Alliance), were said to have encouraged the two women to break new ground. They could register to vote because they were born in the Unites States and thus were citizens.

OO: Another picture frames a WWII-era Chinatown storefront with a sign reading, “I Am an American.” Where exactly did this storefront stand?

HC: Actually in the research for my next book, “Historic Photos of San Francisco Crime,” I discovered that Bill Wong had the location for that photo wrong. It was San Francisco, and it is a superb image of the era from Dorothea Lange, who hung around skid row near Howard Street in the 1930s and caught that heartbreaking image in S.F. just after Pearl Harbor. It appears with the correct information in my new book:

In January 1942, the Japanese in San Francisco were ordered to turn in radios and cameras, and on February 19, President Roosevelt signed Executive Order No. 9066, giving military commanders authority to remove persons of Japanese ancestry from the Pacific Coast. General DeWitt issued a voluntary evacuation order on March 2 and a mandatory order on March 27. The order would eventually result in the relocation of 110,000 people of Japanese descent, two-thirds of whom were American citizens, and some with relatives serving in the military. Most were sent to remote areas between the Sierra Nevada and Rocky Mountains. Photographer Dorothea Lange recorded this sign at 13th and Franklin streets erected by a Japanese American store owner, a U.S. citizen and U.C. Berkeley graduate, the day after Pearl Harbor. It did not save him from evacuation. According to author William Wong, he was forced to sell this store to four Chinese families.

OO: What’s your Oakland story?

HC: I was born in Providence Hospital in Oakland in 1954. My mom was twice widowed, the second time when I was seven years old, and I was second-to-youngest of seven children. We were never poverty-stricken, but a woman with by then six children who lived on pensions from her two husbands, the first of whom was killed as a young man in WWII, could not be considered well off. In 1968, Oakland was a very tough place to live. The hippie era had begun, and my next oldest sister and I were enthusiastic young converts. But the mafia drug peddling had already moved into certain neighborhoods and my mom felt that her only chance to save her younger kids was to get us out. I was going to St. Elizabeth’s HS in 1968 when she moved us, first to her home town in Fresno for less than a year (thank god) and then to a “ghost town” of less than 250 people in rural Sonoma County called Bloomfield, it was true culture shock. And yet I must say that I think she made the right decision despite that I fought it all the way. I lived in various cities in Sonoma County until my husband and I started moving for his career (commercial architect) in 1998. We lived in Palo Alto and then moved to Walnut Creek in 2000, where we remain.

I will always love Oakland, where I grew up running wild all day, fog until noon in summer when we came home ONLY for lunch, playing “army” with my friends from St. Cyril’s and St. Lawrence O’Toole’s on the Mills College Campus, and my mom had no idea where we were roaming. I remember the great parts and the not-so-great parts. One things that amazes me when I think back to it: when we were about 10 to 12 years old a couple of my friends and I would take the 15D bus from where we lived to downtown Oakland to shop at Capwells and the Emporium. We were cautioned not to go west of Smith’s Clothing Store on Broadway, but other than that we could roam downtown and wound down through all parts of town with every color of people and never felt unsafe for a moment and never had a single bad thing happen. That was Oakland for me, pre-1970.  And I have to tell you, one of my later boyfriends who was raised in San Francisco, never tired of calling me a true “Oakland Tough.”

OO: In the book, you discuss how Chinatowns across the state were constantly under threat. (Certainly, your compilation is an effort to recover Chinese history in California, photo-by-photo.) In your preface, you touch on the fact that after WWII, restrictions lessened for Chinese immigrants. As an Oakland-grown native, have you seen any evidence of “the gilded cage” having opened at home?

Because I was born in Oakland in 1954, I never witnessed the “gilded cage” and its much underestimated discrimination and tragic effects in California history. As a young person growing up in Oakland, however, I can remember the very guarded reserve of the Asian kids in our schools, and now I can appreciate that reserve and caution. And let me tell you one other treasured memory in my childhood, which may have had a great deal with doing this book. When we lived in Maxwell Park on Madera Avenue we bought every grocery item we ever ate in that era from Willy Pons corner grocery store. Even before my father died when I was seven, my mom would send us down to Willy’s store with a grocery list and Willy and his wonderful, large family would find all the items, bag them, add them to our credit bill and send us off home–but never without some kind of treat.  We shopped for years at that store and Willy often delivered groceries to us at home in cardboard boxes. My mom only sent us to the store for daily items. Every time Willy came into our home he was so cheerful and he ALWAYS had a special “gift” or “treat” for all of us little rugrats. After my father died, I think I remember that those “gifts” sometimes were more practical items, like a pound of lunchmeat.

I was probably about six years old; but I remember very well standing at the meat counter at Willy’s store. Willy’s mother, a wizened tiny, old lady, was trying to answer my question about the Chinese lettering on the bags that lay around on the floor. She became animated and took an old bag and began to draw on it for me, speaking in very fast words that I could not understand at all. Her granddaughter, a tall, lovely girl who looked very glamorous to me, looked down at her little grandmother and said something like, “Yes, yes, grandmother, Chinese letters are all pictures. You tell me that all the time.” The granddaughter looked at me with something close to embarrassment, but I–a white kid–was genuinely fascinated. Willy and his family used to live in the flat above the store. But after working for years, they built a beautiful home up in the Oakland Hills. One tough Irish Catholic kid from Oakland remembers them with affection. That, for me, is the true end of the gilded cage.

To learn more stories from the past and present,
visit the Oakland Chinatown History Project,
and author William Wong’s site:


It is autumn in the Glenview. Dried sycamore leaves collect at the foot of red cement stairwells and crack underfoot. Spiders have spun webs all over yards up and down Park Boulevard, almost as thick as the store-bought cobwebs I see clinging to hedges next to dummy witches. The summer warmth makes its exit in fits and starts as the crisp air settles in. The holiday season, a marathon of sugar binges and punched-up cider, begins with Halloween this weekend. Here’s what Oakland has in store:


The Oakland Museum Honors Dia de los Muertos in 2008

In the Glenview: Tomorrow on All Hallows Eve, Glenview Elementary will host its annual block party from 11 a.m.–2 p.m., on Tiffin Road. Bring a dish to share and meet the neighbors. Take part in the food, games and in making a financial pledge to the school; costumes, like donations, are encouraged but not required. Later on that evening on Greenwood Avenue, a spooky puppet show and yard haunt is rumored to start at nightfall. Glenfriend John has created a Flickr group so Oaklanders can share their photos of the festivities.

In West Oakland: Also for Halloween, check out “FrankenSk8,” an event held in Town Park. It’s Oakland’s premiere skating venue brought to you by Hood Games, a community grown out of East Oakland. They successfully convinced the city to carve out a space in deFremery Park for skaters to work on their skills and officially opened in July. Bring your board or simply scope the local talent from 12 p.m.–3 p.m.

On Piedmont Avenue: This neighborhood will be all things Samhain from dawn ’til dusk. The merchants association will throw its 23rd Annual Piedmont Avenue Halloween Celebration from 9:45 a.m., when patrons can see free cartoons at the Landmark Theatre. After the parade and a trick-or-treat at Issues, visit Mountain View Cemetery. It rests at the top of Piedmont Avenue and hosts a pumpkin festival, where kids can count on a free pumpkin, treat bag and plenty of time in the jump house.

Closing out the evening is a free screening of “Nightmare Before Christmas” at the Video Room. The film runs in the yet-to-rented storefront beside the store’s current location. Prizes go to the best kids costume:


Downtown: For the cocktail crowd, The Den serves up a “Thrillerthon” costume ball this Halloween. Give-away treats at the Halloween bash range from dinner certificates at local restaurants to free drinks at future Den parties. DJ Epic and DJ Mpenzi will spin in honor of Haitian Gede and Michael Jackson’s “Thriller,” explaining one of the costume contest categories: Best MJ Look-alike. Also performing is the Kendra Kimbrough Ensemble and the El Wah Movement Caribbean Dancers. Doors open at 8:30 p.m. with tickets at $5 before 10 p.m. and $10 thereafter.

Dia de los Muertos in The Fruitvale: Oakland’s best festival is arguably Dia de los Muertos. In past years its attendance has surpassed many Dia de los Muertos celebrations across the country. This year, it was almost in danger of dying out but was resurrected in time for Sunday, November 1, thanks in part to Oakland’s Vice Mayor Ignacio De La Fuente. Every year on International Boulevard, the entire Fruitvale skyline transforms with rainbow-colored paper prayer flags. Sugar skulls and sweet pan de muertos pile high. But front-and-center for food concessions are from La Borinqueña Restaurant & Specialty Shop in Old Oakland; Tina “Tamale” Ramos represents with family recipes going back for generations—hopefully with some of their tasty green chile and cheese tamales.

This year more than 25 altars spill out onto the street from the ‘Vale Transit Village. A portion of them are provided by the Oakland Museum, which is currently closed for renovations. Still, they make an appearance at the festival with an interactive display and make a virtual ofrendas online. The dead fest begins at 10 a.m. with music from local Latino bands, cultural crafts and games, and shutters at 5 p.m. To get there, you could take the bus or BART to the Fruitvale station. From the escalator, follow the scent of marigolds and you’ve arrived.


Mictecacihuatl, or the Aztec's Lady of the Dead

Mas Muertos: Many peoples observe the dead with rituals. The Haitians, Celts and Native Americans each had their method of reaching for loved ones in the Otherworld. There’s also curious overlap across cultures. The Greeks spoke of Persephone presiding over the dead, and ushering departed souls to their new residences. The Aztecs, for their part, personified this “Lady of the Dead” as the goddess Mictecacihuatl. According to the story, she dies in childbirth the Underworld, where she and her husband Mictlan watch over the bones of those passed. This ensures that the lifeless bones could, if needed, build a people for some future world.

The Oakland Museum has online resources on the Day of the Dead that’s worth a peek. Under the Bay Area events is a healthy book list, featuring the indispensable “Digging the Days of the Dead,” by Juanita Garciagodoy. She writes somewhat academically but lucidly about the origins of the rites and looks at death as viewed today. It’s a great read for information and the index contains poems like the one by an ancient American poet, Cuahcuauhtzin:

My heart longs for flowers anxiously.
I only suffer with songs,
I only essay my songs,
on the earth, I am Cuahcuauhtzin.
With anxiety I want flowers,
may they rest in my hand,
I am wretched!
Where will we go
that we may never die?
Although I were jade,
although I were gold,
I will be melted, I will be perforated
in the crucible.
My heart, I Cuahcuauhtzin,
am a wretched man!

In her chapter “The Lively Skeletons,” Garciagodoy examines the oxymoronic nature of the Mexican holiday. She writes, “The calaveras are working, self-reflexively making offerings to the dead, socializing, or displaying themselves. Whatever they are doing, what may be most obvious about these skeletons is that they are not dead.” Skulls shrouded in vibrant colors walk a line between life and death. They do not dwell on last rites but on timeless rituals. In this realm, life seems the most brilliant.

One could make a similar argument for Oakland: it may be haunted by wayward ghosts, but it’s on the cusp of renewal. The city lets out its closeted skeletons every fall and takes stock of the living and the dead. A dark subject and bright colors show the beauty of life in stark contrast. And fittingly, Oakland shines.

My new favorite band is playing this weekend, and I can’t see them. But you should. If it my brother wasn’t playing guitar in the city tomorrow night, I would head to the Starry Plough to see these folks:

photo courtesy of

photo courtesy of

They’re The Hollyhocks, a new indie band out of West O with rich instrumentals. It’s melodies are melancholic and then exaulting, with great female vocals from guitarist Kristin Sobditch and bassist Yuri Jewett. Jason Silverio enters in his drumming style that carries the tunes in and out like a steady, then crashing, ocean tide. Needless to say it’s great summer music to blast on your way to the beach. I have “Thank You Again, Goodnight” on a permanent loop and look forward to getting my hands on their entire debut album.

Among the band members is an BMI award-winning songwriter, Dan Jewett. A great reporter and magazine editor in his own right, he wrote songs with Adam Durwitz back in the day when they broke musical gound with The Himalayans. That was before Duritz (also a graduate of Head Royce School) embarked on new territory with the Counting Crows.

I saw a preview performance of The Hollyhocks a few months ago and fell in love with their sound. They recently got a shout-out on KPFA’s “The Hear & Now” show and a nod in the East Bay Express. Sorry to miss them this time around. Since I have to help my li’l brother usher in his 30th birthday this Saturday, I subscribed to their newsletter for the latest updates on upcoming shows.

Check out The Hollyhocks for yourself at a classic East Bay Venue. They’re joining San Francisco rockers 20 Minute Loop and Ultralash to take the stage. Great tunes and Murphy’s on tap. That’s my kind of night.

photo courtesy of

photo courtesy of

The details:

Saturday, June 27
9 p.m.
Starry Plough
3101 Shattuck Ave., Berkeley