Throughout chapters 2 and 3 of The New Chinatown, Peter Kwong chronicles the economy of New York City’s Chinatown as it grew from a self-employing, small-business community to a high finance area. Kwong begins by describing the main reason behind why Chinese immigrants desired to come to America: to escape poverty. Here, they felt there would be a greater availability of jobs, and as the Chinese immigrants settled near each other, Chinatown was born. The most distinctive feature of Chinatown, however, – and one I find quite intriguing – is the local network among Chinese merchants and employers, allowing for the development of jobs that were entirely carried out step-by-step by Chinese immigrants, from production to consumption.

Kwong follows by highlighting the pivotal role Chinese women played in the further development of Chinatown. Though many did not speak English, Chinese women were eager to work and provide for their families. This particular section of Kwong’s discussion truly resonated with me. When my grandparents first arrived in New York City in 1960 they had only one child: my uncle. Within five years, however, the family grew to include my younger uncle, my mom, and my aunt. Struggling to support four children, my grandmother sought employment and became a garment worker – an occupation within the exact industry Kwong cites as having significantly aided in the transformation of Chinatown’s economy from one focused on small businesses, to one with a burgeoning manufacturing industry. Again, just as Kwong writes, though there were not many choices of work for women at that time, my grandmother did specifically choose to work as a seamstress in a factory because it offered full health insurance for her entire family and allowed her to have flexible work hours so that she would still be able to care for her children. My grandmother was even allowed to sometimes bring my aunt – the youngest – along with her to work with her, if she was not feeling well and had taken an absence from school. 

While local exchanges and labor such as my grandmother’s certainly impacted the growing economy of the neighborhood, as Kwong discusses in chapter 3, foreign capital emerged as an important factor as well. For many immigrants residing in parts of the world that faced economic uncertainty at the time, transferring their capital became the most logical first step before immigrating to America. Though most had relatives and friends store their capital in banks on their behalf, some also invested money into their family’s businesses or real-estate ventures – a decision that gave a “tremendous boost to the Chinatown economy and foreshadowed the beginnings of real estate speculation. Here, Kwong notes that “the intention is to move capital to the United States, profits are not returned to Asia but are reinvested in this country.” I found this particular statement, though not as pertinent to his central conversation, to be quite interesting as it directly correlates to our recent class discussion on citizenship. Although the definition of a “good citizen” varies from person to person, I wonder, here Chinese immigrants have and are clearly contributing to the American economy, are they thus considered good citizens? Moreover, Kwong draws attention to the varying roles capital plays within Chinatown. Just as Foner noted in her novel, foreign capital allowed for foreign organizations to maintain political holds on the Chinese community.

Finally, in describing the growth of Chinatown through real estate, Kwong cites the importance of ownership of land to Chinese individuals, as it represents stability and power. I also personally understood this statement, as both my parents have real estate ventures and have always taught the importance of owning a form of property. Unfortunately as the community grew physically, and the economy boomed, Chinatown itself became a more lucrative investment to those within and those outside of the actual neighborhood. Furthermore, there became a “crying need” for space and low-income residents were often displaced to make room for more profitable housing and commercial businesses. This reminded me immediately of a recent proposition to demolish a portion of Elizabeth Street in Chinatown to be replaced with a large hotel. Though I am not sure of the specifics of the proposal, this instantaneously unsettled me, as it seeks to permanently alter the fabric – the people and small businesses – of Chinatown. Thus, though Chinatown was and still is quite different from other traditional ethic enclaves in that the Chinese created their own employment opportunities and in turn built their own community, with their rising economy also came rising interest from those within and outside of the community to profit from its self-produced success.

Throughout Chapter 6 of From Ellis Island to JFK, Nancy Foner discusses the growing complexity of citizenship and the impact transnationalism has had on both the immigrants of the past and the immigrants of today. Defined as “the processes by which immigrants ‘forge and sustain multi-stranded social relations that link together their societies of origin and settlement,'” transnationality – though not always recognized – has had a long history in immigration.

As Foner asserts, immigrants at the turn of the century often sustained familial, economic, political, and cultural ties to their home societies while simultaneously developing connections to their new homes. With the uncertainty of work and the economy, many of these immigrants labored to obtain just enough money to send back to other family members and to return home for both brief visits and permanent stays – minus any financial baggage they might have carried with them when they first arrived on Ellis Island.

This desire to return to their home societies, Foner argues, was also encouraged by racism and prejudice in America: “Nonwhite immigrants, denied full acceptance in America, maintain and build ties to their communities of origin to have a place they can call home.” Yet, what I found quite interesting, was the very apparent “catch-22” associated with transnational ties. While many Americans have and still continue to discriminate against immigrants and maintain desires to limit immigration overall, immigrants, at the same time, are “expected to stay once they arrive,” because “to leave again implied the migrant came only for money; was too crass to appreciate America as a noble experiment in democracy; and spurned American good will and helping hands.”

Furthermore, immigrants are continuously pressured to abandon traditional customs and languages, emerging from this simmering melting pot as “immaculate, well-dressed, accent-free ‘American-looking’ Americans.” I found Foner’s haunting description of assimilation and institutionalization to parallel hazing and other forms of mass processes employed to prove loyalty. With that in mind, I find it quite absurd – while we continue to stigmatize immigrants and maintain anti-immigrant sentiments, we expect them to conform to our so-called inherently “American” ideals (but are we not, first, a country built upon immigrant ideals?) and declare allegiance to a country that does not wholly recognize these same immigrants.

Today, with advancements in technology, the ways in which immigrants preserve transnational ties has changed – they are now able to do so simultaneously, via phone, instant messaging, video and numerous other options. However, the economic uncertainty faced by past immigrants remains an obstacle for the immigrants of today and is still one very influential factor in maintaining dual nationality. To most, especially those in academia, transnational relationships “enhance the possibility of survival,” and more people now view themselves as “world citizens.” Even here, though, I recognize contradiction. While I believe it certainly broadens prospects to be knowledgeable of facets of multiple cultures, building transnational ties ultimately adds complexity into the definition of citizenship (explaining why many countries do not legitimize dual citizenship) and threatens the limiting categorizations created and enforced by society. Thus, unfortunately, I feel it will take much time before transnationality will be truly discussed, as doing so would first require society to recognize and respect the complexity of differences in individual identity.

Among the multitude of practices and beliefs Goldschmidt considers, that hinder dialogue between the Jews and blacks of Crown Heights, I was particularly struck by his discussions of respect for diversity, and the anonymity of urban life.

Throughout the chapter, Goldschmidt highlights the inability of Hasidic Jews to partake in certain attempts at diminishing the social divide between them and their black neighbors, due to their religious laws. Although the Lubavitchers of Crown Heights did not have discriminatory racial intentions behind their resistance – as one Hasidic woman stated: “if we lived in Great Neck, we’d be the same way!” – Goldschmidt attests, Jewish “fear of religious pollution is inexorably tied to racial segregation.” In our society, diversification is defined as understanding others through static objects such as food, that are ideologically designated to be evident markers of  “cultural” groups, and are also tied to societal views on race. To the Lubavitchers and others in the Hasidic community of Crown Heights, however, bridging the gap between the two communities could never be as simple as trying a black neighbor’s cuisine – for one, the food would have to be kosher (and that in itself constitutes complex guidelines for the preparation and consumption of the dish), but more importantly, this refers back to Jewish identity as a religious identity, and the overall ambiguity of “Jewish-ness,” as individual Jews have differing distinctions on keeping kosher.

As an individual who, prior to reading this ethnography, had little knowledge of the complexities of Hasidic Judaism, I understand why many in the black community and those outside of Crown Heights felt Lubavitch insularity was indicative of racial disdain. I was thus struck by a comment made by the Hasidic woman I cited above. In explaining her discontent with the integration programs, she contested “there really is no respect for diversity, there’s always a lot of pressure on the Jews to come across, and be open, and share.” Here, this Hasidic woman defined “respect for diversity,” not by efforts to learn about other “cultures” or by trying ideologically-defined “ethnic” food, but by acknowledgement and acceptance of differences – in essence, she saw no issue with the lack of conversation between the two communities, and sought respect for her religious choice of insularity. This characterization of respect for diversity had never occurred to me, because my definition is similar to that of most individuals in society.

In considering this, I recognize the difficulty Goldschmidt highlights in fostering relationships between the Jews and blacks of Crown Heights. Not only are there obvious differences in physical features, language, practices etc., but there are also complex and conflicting differences in each community’s definition of themselves, definition of each other, and definition of the ways to create unity – complexities that many “multicultural” and “cultural exchange” programs, though designed with good intentions, ultimately overlook. Moreover, Goldschmidt notes that the insularity attributed to Lubavitchers is not unique to their community, arguing social distance is prevalent throughout New York City. This statement also struck me, as I took the time to consider my own relationships with my neighbors. Although my family and I are somewhat close to the family next door and I often wave to neighbors and pause for small talk, it struck me, that like the Lubavitchers and the the blacks residing side-by-side, we, as New Yorkers, rarely get to know our neighbors on a personal level, and are absolutely at peace with this separation between private and public. These social situations are common and remain unnoticed, but even though the two scenarios are very similar, the relationships – or lack thereof – between black and Jewish neighbors in Crown Heights are highlighted and seen as a “problem” requiring a remedy. Ultimately, if those in Crown Heights desire to overcome the social divide between the Jews and blacks of Crown Heights, individuals would need to avoid oversimplification of the differences between the communities and work to revise, as Goldschmidt suggests, the “broader trends in American life” that serve to encourage insularity and anonymity in urban life.

During our last class discussion, we focused on the complexities of power in Italian Harlem – what is power, and who truly wields it? Throughout The Madonna of 115th Street, Robert Orsi continually suggests the domus, itself, was what retained power over the residents of Italian Harlem. Although I largely agree with his conclusion – it is true that most decisions made in both the public and private lives of those living in Italian Harlem centered around the strengthening of the domus – I feel Orsi overlooks the fact that the domus (and the power attributed to it) was inherently a creation of the Italians – an attempt to exert power in defining themselves in America.

What struck me from the latest reading, then, was the way in which the men and women of Italian Harlem relied on the Madonna to both maintain the power of the domus and escape from the limitations of the domus and immigrant life. During the festa, women found freedom in expressing their devotion to the Madonna and marching alongside the statue. As Orsi states, “Once a year… the power of women… was publicly proclaimed.” Yet, female restrictions were still present – men upheld their public facades as all-powerful by retaining authoritative roles in the event and at church. Thus, women identified with the Madonna, and turned to her for strength and consolation when faced with the “terrible fragility and power of their reputations as men defined them.”

Moreover, both men and women felt powerless against their dependence on labor. The festa served as a brief escape from the trials of immigrant life: it held no time limits and troubles were forgotten. In celebrating the Madonna, the men and women of Italian Harlem were also given opportunities for religious sacrifice – an integral part of Italian Catholicism. Although not apparent at first, this too, was an assertion of power. By choosing to suffer, the men and women of Italian Harlem convinced themselves that they had control over their lives, even when bound by social or economic constraints. Furthermore, ” by freely assuming suffering, as opposed to merely enduring pain… [they] were declaring something of their pride and sense of self-worth.” Here, however, Orsi notes the possibility of such religious sacrifice as masochistic self-suffering in response to repressed anger towards the limitations of the domus.

Though I am unsure if I agree with Orsi, I recognize the reasoning behind the Italians’ dependance on the Madonna. Devotion to the Madonna and religious sacrifice in her name served to give meaning to the suffering endured by the residents of Italian Harlem in their defined roles as men and women within the domus and roles as immigrants outside the domus. Although I understand that the men and women of Italian Harlem had little to no control over their financial obstacles, I believe they maintained power over the domus and therefore, had the ability to change their society – after all, it was they who had created the domus and bestowed upon it such power. Whether or not they truly wished to redefine the domus or recognized their ability to do so, however, remains another question. As Orsi notes in his example of a woman who lit a candle for the Madonna every week out of gratitude for her son’s newfound employment, her sacrifice “bound her tightly to the tradition which insisted that women must suffer on behalf of their families…” Ultimately, her actions “contributed to maintaining the culture that bore down on her,” and similarly, other men and women of Italian Harlem continued, through their choices, to recreate a society they both revered and despised.

In Chapter Two of From Ellis Island to JFK, Nancy Foner contrasts the living conditions of   New York’s very first immigrants to modern-day immigrants. At the turn of the century, immigrants largely populated areas within the city that provided cheap housing and were located near where they worked. Today, however, with the availability of numerous transportation options – from cars to the subway – immigrants are no longer limited to residing where there is easy access to their places of occupation. Manhattan, as well as the city’s outer boroughs, are essentially all commutable, allowing immigrants to experience a suburban lifestyle their predecessors could never have imagined. Aside from obvious advances in transportation, many contemporary immigrants also arrive with a stronger and more diverse set of skills and resources, permitting them to find better jobs that can support improved housing and overall lifestyles.

Yet although much has changed, certain aspects of immigrant migration and settlement have remained the same. Many of today’s immigrants, like those in the past, gravitate towards residences near family, friends, and those who share similar languages and cultural traditions as a way to find comfort and adjust communally to a new country. In addition, immigrants in general continue to aid in the revitalization of many of New York City’s deteriorating neighborhoods by fearlessly undertaking decaying housing and retail buildings.

Throughout Foner’s discussion of immigrant geography, what struck me in particular was her mentioning of the number 7 train: “dubbed the International Express as it weaves through polyethnic neighborhoods which have no parallel in previous waves of migration.” Although I take the 7 train often, the apparent diversity of its passengers and the communities through which it passes never struck me as surprising – as a native New Yorker who calls Queens home, such a train ride is the norm. But as I read this chapter, I took the time to really consider a “normal” ride on the 7 train in comparison to other train rides I have been on in other states and in other countries – what I realized absolutely fascinates me. As Foner states, the neighborhoods connected by the 7 train truly constitute “an ethnic cross section of the planet” – a characteristic I feel successfully exemplifies the progress immigrants have made in expanding both the geography of their residences and the opportunities made available to them based on where they live. In regards to my next ride on the 7 line, I know I will take a minute to savor a train ride unique to New York City, one that unlike other largely homogenous trains throughout America and the world, offers a window into the transportation of millions of people diverse not only in their race and ethnicity, but also diverse in thoughts and experiences to provide to the advancement of the city.