Transcriber: Hoa Thanh Reviewer: Emma G
Chinese takeaway, may I take your order, please? Mm, hmm, yep.
It’ll be 15 to 20 minutes. Do you want to collect or delivery? Okay, great.
See you then.
[One pork noodles, two fried chicken, three chips to collect in 10 min.]
What’s the name of your local Chinese takeaway?
Do you recognize that window? your order goes in, your meal comes out.
Have you ever wondered what goes on behind it?
I can tell you it’s much more than cooking.
Us and the Chinese takeaway community even have a name for it - Chop suey life.
Are you probably wondering what so different
about the Chinese takeaway community to other Chinese migrants?
Well, in the past they used to come in swaths of almost entire villages
and islands from the poorest parts of Hong Kong.
Unlike the middle class who came to study engineering or medicine,
chop suey people had little to no education,
because they lived below the poverty line.
Their homes were fishing boats or shanty huts.
In recent years, these migrants have shifted into a different population.
This time, their individual unconnected families
from various provinces in Mainland China,
different languages, different geographies.
The only thing these two groups share in common
is their desire to escape from poverty.
How about difference? When was the last time you felt out of place?
Well, my parents generation,
they just turned a blind eye because their focus was on survival.
For the British born Chinese like me, we couldn’t ignore it,
we just wanted to fit in and I shouldn’t need to tell you.
It's been hard.
As the only Chinese family in my hometown, Buckie,
people told me for years that I don’t fit in.
Like the entire assembly hall, which stared and pointed at me.
And when I started primary school
and then again in high school.
People would shout racial slurs and pull their eyes up at me in the street.
And even when boys fancied me, they never dared to ask me out
because, well, I’m not white.
As diverse as society has become today, truth be told,
acceptance and integration are still not automatic given.
We know communities are far stronger and richer
when people of all backgrounds are woven into the same social fabric.
Showing understanding, positive curiosity
and making the minority feel included are ways for us to weave them in.
For example, to understand chop suey life,
you need to understand, first of all, the sacrifices we make.
It’s just family quality time.
Over seven years, I can count on one hand,
the total number of times my parents came to see me
for end of term school performances.
Do you enjoy reading bedtime stories to your children?
Often that is rush hours, our parents couldn’t put us kids to bed.
My sister slept on kitchen shelves next to food containers
and I in the hallways sink next to the shop toilet
using our parents winter coats for blankets.
Takeaway kids, we sacrifice our social life,
sometimes our childhood and other of our dreams.
I mentor this teenager called Ah Long who’s the oldest of three siblings.
His parents come from Fujian in Mainland China,
and they depend on him for a lot of things.
By the time he was 12, he learned to run the shop front,
translate for his parents from their doctor’s appointments
to his old school reports.
And he’s the one that gets his brother and sister ready
and takes them to school, all on top of his studies.
His parents don’t even care whether he does well at school,
because they expect him to take care of the takeaway
and once they retire so that they can also make sure
that their own hard work won’t go to waste.
But, Lyly, I don’t want to stay like this forever.
And I hate working weekends!
Why can’t I just, like, hang out with my mates?
Like all of us before him,
he’s torn between respecting his own filial responsibilities
or forging his own path.
It’s no wonder takeaway kids struggle with their identity.
Like every second generation immigrant,
there comes a time when you’re faced with the question - who am I?
When I was maybe 14, I was about to leave our takeaway.
Suddenly the school bus passed by
without thinking, I crouched down to hide.
When I got to school, a classmate comes up to me and says,
“Hey, don’t I see you leaving your shop earlier?”
“Eh no, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
But my red cheeks gave me away. How could I admit my truth out loud?
I was ashamed of being Chinese.
I was ashamed that my parents owned a Chinese takeaway,
a reminder that I’m different and especially when owning one
was seen as a rubbish, less professional job.
I even resented my parents for being uneducated, illiterate.
People would say, “Your parents have been here for so long,
why can’t they speak better English?”
Desperate to fit in,
I had forgotten to appreciate how much our parents have sacrificed.
Why can’t Chinese takeaway owners speak better English?
Because many can’t even read and write in their own native language.
So to be able to speak in broken English is already a massive achievement.
Learning English and blending in were never the top priorities,
when they came to this country.
It's always been about giving us our children a better life.
Beyond understanding, why not be curious about our language and culture, too?
We had this loyal customer of many years called Dougie
and he ordered the same thing every time - beef curry and chips.
Dad, my papa would made the order, passed it to the kitchen
will make it, hand it over and Dougie would be on his way,
every Wednesday without fail.
One Wednesday, Dougie comes in and says, “肥仔要咖哩油薯條.“
“Uff!” Dad winces at those words.
Dougie notices this, “Did I say it right, Billy?”
“Eh, very good, very good!” (Laughter)
Dad, write the set order, pass it to the kitchen,
we make it, hand it over and Dougie goes on his merry way,
proud that he speaks perfect Cantonese.
Next week, Dougie orders the same set order again.
This time dad can’t even look him in the eye.
You can say, “一份咖哩油薯條.”
One portion of beef curry and chips.
Why? What did I say？
That translates, “Fat guy wants beef curry and chips.”
(Laughter)
So, Dougie found out his pet name... (Laughter)
Just learning that one Cantonese phrase
was Dougie’s own way of making dad feel at home,
because he wanted to feel part of our Chinese community, too.
Just like people made me feel that we didn’t belong,
Dougie and many others made my family and I feel that we do.
Before heading off to high school,
Mrs. Garden, my primary seven teacher, gave our class one last pep talk.
In it, she described this amazing group of people
who sound is so unique and special and we have one in our class.
Ah! We looked around, curious, who could it be?
And she looked at me and said my name,
[inaudible] generation immigrant.
By educating our kids early on the importance of diversity and inclusion,
we are building up the next generation to be more open, kind and thoughtful.
From a kid who had been called all sorts of names,
I grew up to be one of the lucky gang.
Years ago, a friend even said to my best friend, Shawn,
“Hey, don’t you think Lyly looks really Chinese?”
(Laughter)
Shawn stares back at... (Laughter)
Shawn stares back at him, “Em, that’s because she is Chinese.”
“Yeah, I know, but don’t you think she looks even more Chinese than before?”
All this to say is I’m just as much as a Buckie as everyone else.
There’s a famous Buckie legend, but not many people know the story.
A long time ago, a 16 year old boy
from a far away land arrived in these shores
with one small suitcase and one big mission.
To make enough money for his mom and four sisters.
He worked across the country, first, as a kitchen helper then as a waiter.
He survived on customer tips and food scraps.
The boy grew up to be a man and got married.
His wife and kids stayed with relatives,
as he continued to work across the country.
He yearned to give them a better life.
So his search for a place to call home and be his own boss.
He found it.
The [shop’s name] Chinese takeaway served customers
across a 20 mile radius for over 40 years.
The man got invited to join the Rotary Club.
His kids do taekwondo, go guiding
and volunteer at the local elderly care home
and he sponsored the annual Christmas lights for his shop sign
shining just as brightly as alongside the local businesses.
He closed, [the shop] 20 years ago.
But the locals can't bear to throw the takeaway menu away,
so they keep it in the cabinet drawers.
They even come down to Aberdeen to spot the legend.
They want to hear his famous greeting again. Hello, my friend.
This legend has a name.
His name is Billy Fong, my papa.
A permanent outpouring of love from the Buckie people
show they see our lives beyond our Chinese takeaway.
They see us as more than just Chinese because they see us as one of them.
My family and I were lucky, but not all Chinese families are.
There are still loads of takeaway kids like Ah Long struggling.
As Chinese takeaways are dotted across towns
and villages, Ah Long doesn’t get to meet other kids like him,
because his parents don’t interact with other families.
So he’s left feeling like he doesn’t fit in.
As locals, we can change that by showing compassion
and understanding through small actions that can make them feel at home.
What’s the name of your local Chinese takeaway?
The next time you order your meal,
I invite you to look beyond that window and into our lives.
I invite you to leave the family to your community’s social fabric.
Just like the way the Buckie people did for mine.
(Applause)