Longtime resident Karlin Chan, unfazed by the frigid February
morning, nods to bundled up locals carrying grocery bags and chats
with store owners.
"Everyone is optimistic about the future," Chan said. "A new year
signals a new beginning and we are going to build on that."
In many ways, Chinatown's experience mirrors that of Asian-American
communities across the United States during the pandemic: businesses
were shunned and verbal abuse and attacks rose to alarming levels.
As the pandemic enters its third year, however, interviews with
business owners, activists and residents revealed a sense of hope in
the historic New York City neighborhood as the Lunar New Year began
last week.
"Despite all of the predictions of doom and gloom, I think there's a
certain hopefulness," said Amy Chin, a longtime community organizer.
"And you can see the resilience and also the resourcefulness of the
community."
National attention on hate crimes against Asian Americans and
Pacific Islanders (AAPI) gained wide attention in March when a man
opened fire in three Atlanta-area spas, killing eight people, six of
whom were of Asian descent.
Despite a nationwide outpouring of alarm and support, the violence
and verbal harassment have continued. In San Francisco, preliminary
statistics released in January showed a six-fold spike in hate
crimes against AAPI communities in 2021.
In New York, anti-Asian hate crimes in 2021 shot up 361%, according
to data released in December by a New York Police Department (NYPD)
task force.
Experts attribute the heightened racism in part to incendiary, false
rhetoric that blamed Asian Americans for the spread of coronavirus.
"We know that this is an ongoing and persistent issue," said
Manjusha Kulkarni, co-founder of Stop AAPI Hate, which counted more
than 10,300 hate incidents from March 2020 to September 2021.
That is the "tip of the iceberg," Kulkarni said, noting the
underreporting of incidents, opaqueness about what constitutes a
hate crime, and language barriers mean the actual number is likely
far higher.
The NYPD has added patrols to Asian communities, including
additional undercover officers, while neighborhoods have launched
watch programs to enhance the sense of security.
"You've got to go on living, you're not going to hide at home in
fear," said Chan, who founded the Chinatown Block Watch early in the
pandemic.
'LIKE A RENAISSANCE'
Jimmy Fong thought the worst was over when droves of tourists
returned to Chinatown's Mott Street last summer and fall. Once more,
customers filled his restaurant, Cha Kee.
"Then Omicron hit," said Fong, 43.
Foot traffic dried up, even as prices for food and other goods rose
rapidly, he said. Cha Kee has survived thanks in part to government
assistance, but others have closed for good.
[to top of second column] |
Restaurant spending slumped 96% in Chinatown in
2020 as tourists dwindled, versus an 85% decline
citywide, according to a report by the
Mastercard Center for Inclusive Growth
https://www.mastercardcenter.org
insights/asian-american-communities-hit-earlier-and-harder-by-covid-19.
Financial aid from federal and local agencies
has provided some relief. New York City's
Department of Small Business Services said
nearly $10.1 million was awarded in loans or
grants to Chinatown businesses through the
pandemic.
But community leaders cite hurdles that have
curtailed access for some Asian-American
businesses, ranging from language barriers to
how aid programs were set up.
Disbursements, initially by zip code, meant some Chinatown
businesses that share their code with the wealthier neighborhoods of
SoHo and Tribeca were excluded https://www.aafederation.org/small-business-big-losses
from a city loan program for small businesses in lower income areas.
Funds available through the federal Paycheck Protection Program
could not be used for rent and other operational costs that AAPI
leaders said were critical for small businesses.
"I think this pandemic has really shown the flaws in our system,"
New York City Council Member Christopher Marte said in an interview.
Some businesses - even new ones - are nonetheless making it.
Elizabeth Yee opened Tonii's Fresh Rice Noodles in October 2019,
five months before New York City shut down.
"The first couple of months was very scary," said Yee, 27, at
Tonii's, a long and narrow eatery on a tightly packed Chinatown
block.
Yee's family poured their resources into her business. Community
organizations and volunteers helped her access financial aid and
establish the restaurant's online business.
"I feel community has a much deeper meaning," she said.
For Yin Kong, director and co-founder of non-profit Think!Chinatown,
the pandemic led many people to become more involved in their
community and culture.
"Just like a renaissance of the Asian-American movements," Kong
said. "I'm very optimistic for our community."
(Reporting by Maria Caspani; additional reporting by Christine
Kiernan; Editing by Richard Chang)
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