The Paper Daughters of Chinatown

by Heather B. Moore

An opportunity was presented with this void, and organizations formed, such as the criminal tong, to provide women for the men—in the form of paid prostitution.

Human trafficking was big business in the late 1800s Chinatown (San Francisco). Therefore, rescuing the young Chinese women from brothels was akin to stealing money from these slave owners. "Rescues were often secret nighttime raids conducted with axe and sledgehammer wielding policemen. Donaldina quickly became a master at finding girls that had been hidden under trap doors and behind false walls. She also became adept at protecting already rescued girls from writs of habeas corpus, a legally sanctioned ploy wherein slave owners would accuse a girl of a crime and have her removed from the Mission Home. Once a girl was so removed, she was rarely heard from again. Members of the fighting Tongs, many of whom were slave owners, did not take the loss of their property lightly. Slaves were valuable property, many fetching prices in the thousands of dollars. The Mission Home and its inhabitants were under constant legal and physical assault from the slave owners." (Source: https://www.sfhistoryencyclopedia.com/.../cameronDonaldin...)

Besides passing punitive ordinances aimed specifically at the Chinese, the California legislature denied them basic civil rights, including immigration rights, employment in public works, intermarriage with whites, ability to give testimony in court, and the right to own land.

The Chinese people in America continued to be up against many barriers throughout the early 1900s, and the Chinese Exclusion Act wasn't repealed until 1943. But the Chinese women were up against anti-immigration laws from both sides of the Pacific. Chinese law forbade the emigration of women until 1911. Thus the illegal practice of bringing the women over from China under false pretenses, with false papers, began. And the first "paper daughters" began to arrive . . .

Miss Culbertson eyed her for a long moment. Faint sounds reached through the closed door. Singing? “You will stay then,” the director said at last, her tone softer than it had been, “despite all that I’ve told you?” Dolly held the older woman’s gaze. She’d thought that stepping off the train had been the turning point in her life. But she’d been wrong. This moment was. The director was more than twice Dolly’s age, and yet, she was living and working here. “Are you staying, Miss Culbertson?” Miss Culbertson’s brown eyes glimmered with surprise, but she gave a small, determined nod. “Of course.” Dolly muffled the rest of her questions. There would be time for them later. “Then I will stay too.”

This conversation between Margaret Culbertson and Donaldina Cameron is almost word-for-word what transpired on the day that Donaldina arrived at the mission home in 1895. Perhaps it was Donaldina's youth and naivete that gave her such courage, or perhaps it was because she didn't know exactly what she was getting herself into, but this moment became pivotal to her future.

Dolly followed the two women down the hill to Stockton Street at a brisk pace. She was glad that she’d been told to wear sturdy shoes. Her breath had been stolen by the time they reached the corner where three police officers waited. Miss Culbertson made quick introductions to the officers: Jesse Cook, John Green, and George Riordan. Their mustaches, bowler hats, and dark suits made it hard to tell the men apart in the dark. Dolly tried not to stare, especially since two of them carried sledgehammers, and one an axe. Where were they going that required such tools?

These names are the actual names of the police officers from the San Francisco Police Department who helped the mission home staff on their rescues of Chinese girls and women from slavery situations and brothels. The Squad brought along axes and crowbars to gain entry into the brothels or locked rooms. You can find pictures of the Squad on my Pinterest board: https://www.pinterest.com/heatherbmoore3/the-paper-daughters-of-chinatown/

For the next hour, Dolly learned what it was to care intimately for another human, one who was scarred and soiled in ways that made Dolly’s eyes scald with tears. She and Anna bathed the young woman while she sat in the bathtub and cried. Dolly was gentle with the soap and washcloth. The slave was thin enough that Dolly could have counted her ribs on her back. Next, they washed her hair. At first the young woman was afraid to dunk her head, but Anna explained in broken Chinese that it would make her feel better. After the bath, the young woman trembled as she stood in a clean robe, her hair twisted into a towel. Her eyes were swollen from her crying, but in their depths was gratitude.

I was deeply touched when I read about the personal care that the mission home staff provided to the women they'd rescued. These women had been treated poorly, abused, and traumatized, and having someone attend to their needs in a loving and caring manner would have been a new experience for them. For some of these women and young girls, it might have reminded them of days gone by when they lived with their mothers, who were now lost forever to them. Please see chapter notes and bibliography for my references.

“Some of the girls are kidnapped by the highbinders, and their families have no idea that their daughters are alive,” Miss Culbertson continued. “The girls take on new identities in America, and their lives are controlled in every way. They’ve been reduced to what we call paper daughters. Without a home. Without care or love.”

A few of the girls and young women who took refuge at the mission home were able to save money to return to China and seek out their families. Not all searches were successful though. Such was the case with Tien Fu Wu when she returned to her native land to seek out family members. One success story was Jean Ying. The mission home wrote to her family in Canton, and Jean Ying's parents sent over money for passage for their daughter they thought had been abducted or killed. The reunion was sweet indeed. (See Chinatown Quest: One Hundred Years of Donaldina Cameron House, by Carol Green Wilson, p. 18-19)

“Good night, Donaldina. Tomorrow is a new day. The sun will shine through the darkness you’ve experienced tonight. We must always be grateful for the blessings we do have. Tonight, one more Chinese girl is safe.” Dolly nodded. After the director left, she switched off the lamp. She was afraid to see her reflection in the mirror and remember what her eyes had seen. As she shed her outer clothing in the dark, tears slipped down her cheeks as she wondered how many other abused women and girls were out there beyond the walls of the mission home. Needing to be rescued.

As I researched the stories of the mission home, and how much work they had before them--I felt overwhelmed because I knew the work never ended and still continues today. Human trafficking is still prevalent in our society, and it makes me angry, discouraged, and feeling helpless at times. So many of Donaldina Cameron and her fellow mission home staff members experienced setbacks and many challenges. But I was also inspired by their perseverance and stamina, as well as their willingness to continue in the overall fight even when they lost some battles.

“Three Obediences: Obey your father before marriage. Obey your husband when married. Obey your sons in widowhood.

The Chinese women coming to America were leaving a restrictive patriarchal society. “One of the advantages for women who immigrated to America was the chance to remove themselves from the rule of the tyrannical mother-in-law, in-law, the one position that allowed women in China any power. Not only was the daughter-in-law freed from serving her in-laws, but she was also freed of competition for her husband's attention and loyalty and given full control over managing the household.” (See: Unbound Feet by Judy Yung, 46)

“Take this, daughter,” her mother said in a trembling voice as she passed over the wedding dress. “May you never live another day hungry, and may your stomach always be too full to swallow down any sorrow. Always remember, you are my beautiful lotus. Any man would be proud to have you as his wife. Please your husband and have healthy babies.”

Mei Lien and her mother are composite characters in this book. I based their experiences on other true stories of mothers and daughters who believed that America would be a land of opportunity. I often think of mothers, and fathers, like Mei Lien's who gave part of their heart in order to let go of their precious daughter. Out of desperation, or out of hope for a better future, these parents had put their faith in something that wasn't real. I wanted to honor these stories in a way that would also respect the descendants of the real people. I hold their memories sacred, and this is why Mei Lien became a composite so that I wouldn't tread on a true person's excruciating experiences.

“It is time,” her mother repeated, her tears starting again. “Good-bye, my beautiful lotus.” Mei Lien dabbed at her own tears and moved toward the curtain that separated the tiny bedroom from the rest of the house, which amounted to only one other room. She gazed a final time at her mother, seeing the petite woman’s work-worn hands, callused from long days harvesting. The deep circles beneath her eyes, which contrasted with the love and warmth emanating from her. The threadbare dress, which had once been a deep green, now faded white. The bare feet that had walked many miles and would carry her body for many more. “Good-bye, Ah Ma,” Mei Lien said softly.

Mei Lien would have to dig very deep for her strength in the coming months. This scene shows the unbreakable connection she had to a mother she would never see again in her lifetime. Mei Lien may not have had control over what would happen to her physically, but her mother's influence and love gave Mei Lien the strength she needed to endure all things that would come her way.

There was no doubt that each person watching Sing Leen’s departure knew what she had in store for her if she returned to the cribs. She would return to her depraved life, going back to where she would live out what few months or years she had left as a slave to the darkness that had become her one and only mistress.

As mentioned in the chapter notes, the rescue story of Sing Leen is based on the rescue story of Sing Ho that took place on August 15, 1892. Heartbreakingly enough, not all the rescued women remained at the mission home, due to the power of addiction, trauma, or fears that came from believing the tong’s threats and promises of curses. Sometimes the addiction was too strong, and the young woman literally believed she would die without the next drug dose, so in order to save herself, she left the mission home to seek for that dose (The Story of Donaldina Cameron, by Mildred Crowl Martin, p. 44).

“Jan. 17/94. Tai Choie alias Teen Fook was rescued by Miss Houseworth, Miss Florence Worley and some police officers from her inhuman mistress who lived on Jackson St. near Stockton St. The child had been very cruelly treated—her flesh pinched and twisted till her face was scarred. Another method of torture was to dip lighted candlewicking in oil and burn her arms with it. Teen Fook is a pretty child of about ten years old, rosy cheeked and fair complexion.” —Margaret Culbertson, director of the mission home, writing about Tien Fu Wu, 1894

When I visited the mission home, now called the Cameron House, in 2019 while researching this book, I met with associate director Cody Lee. I was very interested to hear more about Tien Fu Wu. This young woman's story absolutely stole my heart. I wanted to know what the proper way was to write her name, and Mrs. Lee told me, “Miss Cameron called her Tien, the girls called her Auntie Wu. At Cameron House, we usually refer to her by her whole name or Auntie Wu.” In my research, there were so many stories of her anger and lashing out at the mission home staff, but then she became the fiercest supporter and advocate of the mission work. I wrote a tribute to this wonderful woman whose example has touched me in many ways: https://mywriterslair.blogspot.com/2020/09/tien-fu-wu-dedicated-life.html

Hanging from the ceiling was a human form, an effigy. The long skirt, the bronze hair, and the green-painted eyes left little doubt of whom the hanging effigy represented. The swaying body might be fake, but the dagger plunged into the center of the look-alike’s chest was not. The message was clear: this was no game or joke. Other threats to the mission home had seemed less personal, but Dolly couldn’t deny, watching the slow swing of the effigy in the garish light, that she was staring death in the face. She drew in a shaky breath, closed her eyes, exhaled. Then she turned from the room and walked out. She had already committed herself to this work, so putting her future into the Lord’s hands was all she could do now. Come what may. Her work would go forward, threats and all, as long as she was able.

Threats, and death threats were common toward the mission home staff. Just as Margaret Culbertson predicted, Donaldina Cameron stood out in Chinatown. When Donaldina took over the director position, the threats piled in, unfortunately culminating with the scene here which is based on the actual event. But Donaldina didn’t cower and believed that if someone truly meant her violent harm, they wouldn’t send a warning in advance. (See: The Story of Donaldina Cameron, by Mildred Martin, 53–54).

“We do not always walk crowned with laurel. . . . ’Tis not enough to help the feeble brother rise; but to comfort him after. This we find the greatest responsibility of our Mission work. . . . With simple faithfulness, therefore, let us go forward looking to God for our pattern, then weave it into human life; thus will the world become better.” —Donaldina Cameron, mission home report

This quote from Donaldina Cameron has made me reflect on my own life and my motivations in serving others. When a young slave girl arrived at the mission home, it was one thing to provide a clean bed, three meals a day, classes in sewing and reading, but an entirely different thing to provide the emotional healing. I believe that this is what Donaldina is referring to. The "crowning laurel" is the rescue--something to be lauded by the outside world. But the "comfort" is the continued care. Emotionally, physically, and spiritually--this is a lifelong process. Recovering from the trauma these young women faced didn't take a few weeks or a couple of months. It took years, and Donaldina Cameron and her staff members were in this for the long haul.

When Mei Lien was led to a mirror in another bedroom, she stared at her own transformation. Gone was the girl from the Hong Kong countryside. Mei Lien looked like the women she had been warned about, the women who had no other choices in life. In her reflection, she might see the shape of her mother’s eyes, but Mei Lien also saw a young woman who had no future. No hope for a different situation. But she would pay back her contract, if only to protect her mother. “I’m sorry, Ah Ma,” Mei Lien whispered to her mother’s eyes. Then she turned away from the mirror and took the dose of opium offered by the servant. Mei Lien was ready. The girl from the country was gone, replaced by a woman who would forget herself and focus only on what it would take to protect her mother.

This scene reflects my personal belief as a woman and what it's like to be in a traumatic or abusive situation. I believe a young woman like Mei Lien would have disassociated herself from the reality of what she was going through. She would have taken her mind to another place while she was forced to do something against her will and character.

“We do remember her as we first saw her, sitting by the fireside awaiting our return from church. As we drew near and spoke to her, she shrank away frightened, while tears and sobs were her only response. An hour later we saw her quietly sleeping on her pillow, her hand tightly clasping a bit of candy, that sweet comforter of childhood’s sorrows. As she grew up to womanhood, she learned English and became our interpreter.” —Margaret Culbertson, writing about six-year-old Chun Fah, 1878

Chun Fah is one of the "success" stories we see in the mission home ledgers. There were so many successes, and there were also many losses. Donaldina Cameron made it a habit to leave a blank section after the names of the young women who were not able to overcome their fears and trauma, and either refused help in the end, or returned to their former lives in a brothel. I think of these blank spaces in the mission home ledger as spaces of hope and spaces in our hearts when we know we can love more, serve more, and accept all those in need of our time and love.

Blood or not, Kum Quai deserved a mother’s protection.

The parallel between Donaldina Cameron and her Chinese "daughters" becomes apparent when Donaldina literally goes to jail with Kum Quai. Losing her own mother as a young child, Donaldina knew what it felt like to be motherless. I believe this is one of the reasons she developed such close relationships with her new daughters. Although Donaldina never gave birth to a child, she was a mother all the same.

“Should I be wearing white?” Ah Cheng murmured. Dolly’s eyes burned. She knew Ah Cheng’s question wasn’t referring to the traditional red that Chinese women wore on their wedding days. The mission home provided white wedding gowns to its women in order to symbolize their purity. Whatever Chinese women had experienced during their captivity, their escape cleansed the old darkness and provided new life and new light. “You, of all people, are the purest soul I know.” Dolly pulled Ah Cheng close. “Jun Ling knows this, and I know this. You deserve to wear white as much as any other woman.”

The joy of a wedding day was indeed joyous, but it was also fraught with second-guessing and doubts. This scene highlights Ah Cheng and her possible doubts that were uncovered from various stories from through my research. I applied them to Ah Cheng's wedding, knowing that it was a possible emotion for her to experience. In another vein, a wedding day of one resident might have also been traumatic for other residents who may have been hurting in their own ways because their dreams of marriage had never come true.

“Lo Mo,” Tien said. When Dolly didn’t, couldn’t, respond, Tien spoke again. “Lo Mo, I will help you. Don’t cry.” It was the first time Tien had called Dolly Lo Mo. In this torturous moment of dear Yuen Qui’s departing, she had left behind a miracle after all. “I will help you with the rescues, Lo Mo,” Tien said. “I won’t be afraid, and I will work harder than anyone.”

This scene is perhaps my favorite in the book and follows closely to the actual words spoken by both Tien and Donaldina Cameron. Tien has been watching Donaldina for years, and at least, she can open her heart and trust this mother-figure. From this moment on, on the heels of Yuen Qui's death, Tien becomes a fierce and loyal staff member at the mission home. “With the help of a benefactor, H.C. Coleman of Morristown, New Jersey, Tien Fu who was able to attend Stevens’ School in Germantown, Pennsylvania, for four years, and the Toronto Bible school for another two years. She saved enough money to return to China, but, unable to find her family, she returned and devoted rest of her life to the goals of the Mission Home, assisting Donaldina Cameron on rescues, interpreting or her in court, and taking charge of the nursery department … When Tien Fu passed away in 1975, she was buried beside Cameron, who had predeceased her 1968” (See: Unbound Feet by Judy Yung, 40).

The melody of the singing below pushed its way into her room, tried to enter her soul and soften the hardness there. Dispel the darkness. But Mei Lien pushed back. She didn’t want to feel happiness. She didn’t want to accept the light. Somehow she knew that once she comprehended all that she had lost and all that she’d endured, the pain would be too much to bear.

When I wrote this scene, I remembered my own times of personal grief when I had to keep putting one foot in front of the other, in order to keep from drowning in despair. It also brought to mind one of my favorite impactful quotes from Barbara Kingsolver's book, The Poisonwood Bible: “As long as I kept moving, my grief streamed out behind me like a swimmer's long hair in water. I knew the weight was there but it didn't touch me. Only when I stopped did the slick, dark stuff of it come floating around my face, catching my arms and throat till I began to drown. So I just didn't stop.”

Each step brought her farther away from the sanctity of her bedroom; each step brought her closer to something different, something unknown. When she hesitated on the last three steps, Lonnie turned and said, “Don’t worry, Mei Lien. You’ll never have to be alone again.”

Relationships and connections are what can keep us going through those hard days or hard weeks. Once Mei Lien allowed herself to interact with one of the girls at the mission home, hope began to creep back into her soul. Lonnie was a real person, and it was a delight to read about her infectiously happy personality that was a blessing to many.

“Keep fighting each battle as it comes,” Cook said. “After tonight, Chinatown will know that you’ve returned.” She swallowed. “For better or for worse.”

Officer Cook is a real historical figure, and I focused on him as a character to bring him to the forefront. Although the interactions between Cook and Donaldina Cameron were mostly fictitious, I had a strong feeling that Donaldina had found good friends in these loyal and dedicated men who believed in her same cause.

“But where were the mission ladies when I was a girl?” She twisted Dolly’s skirt as if she were holding onto a life preserver. “I was kidnapped from my family and sold to the powerful tong.” Ah-Peen Oie’s tears turned her makeup to dark rivulets running down her cheeks. “Where were you when they forced opium onto me until I would do anything for another dose? Including working with them to find more girls?”

I've spoken to book clubs across the country, and every single club has asked about Ah-Peen Oie. "Was she a real person?" Yes! Her story of redemption is also true, and although I couldn't include much of her story that followed the rebuilding of the mission home, Ah-Peen Oie completely turned her life around and worked hard to repay all of her debts where she could. She changed her name to "Amy" after the mission staff woman who was her private teacher during the time Ah-Peen Oie wasn't allowed at the mission home.

Ah-Peen Oie was no longer wearing a silk dress. Her hair was not swept into an elegant style. She wore no makeup. Her hair had been cut short and now framed a face with aging lines. Her clothing was a simple white tunic over white trousers. She could have been anyone on the street, but there was no doubt it was the same slave owner. But the most significant change was that the woman’s eyes had changed. Gone was the hatred from their dark depths. The light in Ah-Peen Oie’s eyes told Mei Lien that the slave owner’s soul had changed too. The woman sank to her knees and bowed her head. As Ah-Peen Oie whispered her plea, Mei Lien’s tears dripped down her face. She realized she had wanted to forgive this woman;

This scene was created after my first draft when my agent asked me to write a forgiveness scene between Ah-Peen Oie and Mei Lien. I realized then that even though Mei Lien was a composite character, there must have been a forgiveness scene when Ah-Peen Oie was allowed into the mission home. Some of the girls she'd presided over would have been in residence. Recently, I've been reading Daughter of Moloka'i by Alan Brennert, and one of the most poignant scenes in the book is the forgiveness that takes place between two brothers. I will never forget it.

she wanted to be free of the burden of grief and heartache.

Through my years on this earth, I've learned that carrying grief and heartache is a burden. And when the sweet moment of peace comes, the relief is also sweet.

“San Francisco isn’t the only place there is danger. As long as the tong exist, the war continues.”

Even after the 1906 San Francisco earthquake, and the subsequent fires, which ousted and scattered the people of Chinatown, human trafficking continued. Moving and spreading into other cities, this insidious practice could not be stopped by earth or fire. The one thing that slowed it was the determination and dedication of groups of women who decided that it had to stop and laws had to be implemented to protect the Chinese people.

Cook cut his eyes to hers, and his jovial mood sobered. “It’s true that the earthquake destroyed much, Miss Cameron. You could say it laid wide open the underbelly of Chinatown. The destruction and fires uncovered passageways and tunnels of the opium dens and prostitution cribs, some of them three stories beneath the ground.” He took off his hat, scrubbed at his hair, then replaced his hat. “All of this was laid out for the city officials to witness. No one could brush the problems of Chinatown under the table any longer.”

While some politicians and government leaders turned a blind eye to the underbelly of Chinatown, the 1906 San Francisco earthquake exposed the underground brothels and opium dens. The darkness was brought to light and could no longer be ignored. This became a catalyst for future laws and protections that were put into place.

“Chinatown has been rebuilt.” He paused. “In full. With both the good and the bad.” “The war continues,” she whispered. “I’m afraid so.” He lit another cigarette, and Dolly noticed the tremble in his hand. “We might live in the land of the free, but none of us are truly free as long as slavery exists in our society.”

The Chinese people in America continued to be up against many barriers throughout the early 1900s. The Chinese Exclusion Act wasn't repealed until 1934. And Chinese women were up against anti-immigration laws from both sides of the Pacific. Chinese law forbade the emigration of women until 1911, and the 1852 Foreign Miners’ Tax affected Chinese miners, along with taxes “levied on Chinese fishermen, laundry men, and brothel owners” (Unbound Feet by Judy Yung, 21), making it even more expensive to support a family.

Dolly’s group pushed forward, walking through neighborhood after neighborhood, leading a sort of impromptu procession. As they traveled, more Chinese came out of their homes and their businesses, curious. When they saw what was happening, they joined in the cheering. The celebration. Mei Lien beamed, tears streaking her face, and Dolly knew this moment was a triumph for them all.

This is the scene where Donaldina Cameron and Mei Lien go on a rescue to retrieve Sai Mui. A healing and triumphant moment for Mei Lien, to be sure. Also, Sai Mui was a real person. She was a paper daughter forced into prostitution, who then ran away from her captors, only to run into rival tong men. Donaldina’s interference was both courageous and dangerous. With the help of the police and her interpreter, Donaldina was able to secure the girl. To her surprise, she was cheered in the streets as they hurried to the mission home. The victory was sweet, but the journey was far from over for Donaldina. Children, teenagers, and women were still being trafficked, and Donaldina must be ready to aid where she could (Chinatown’s Angry Angel: The Story of Donaldina Cameron, by Mildred Crowl Martin 125–127).