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Period: to
The Immigration Span of New Immigrants
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Preparing to Move to America
My name is Liang Fei Yen. I have a husband, Liang Chaoxiang, and a daughter, Liang Huidai. In 1881 we decided to leave China because of the poor working conditions for children. I was pregnant and not willing to let my baby work in the hot, crowded, and dangerous factories and sweat shops. We saved money for more than six years, but by the time we had just enough for our small family it was too late. We would have to wait until 1892, when the Chinese Exclusion Act was over. -
Period: to
Chinese Exclusion Act
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Travelling to America
Finally, after eleven years of saving and waiting we boarded the boat to America. In my dreams I fantasised about the place. I dreamed about open green fields for farming, safe work with fair pay, and large modern houses near the water. I hoped America would be better than the boat. It was crowded, stuffy, and seasickness was prone. Food was scarce and people were always grumpy. There were too many people trying to get to America after the Exclusion Act; so many that it was hard to move. -
Almost to America Continued
My husband was forced into a room with all men, while my daughter and I were put into a separate room of women and children. Huidai and I shared a cot in cramped conditions that were worse that the boat. I thought to myself, "America will be better than this... America WILL be better than this." -
Almost to America
We had a hard time getting through the medical check with Huidai. Since she was a child they had to check her over extra well, but we all passed our medical checks after a long wait. For the background check they questioned my husband a lot. He was so confused, as we all were, with their language. We passed the background check too, but we had to wait there, in Angel Island, for three months because of the amount of people. -
Exiting Angel Island
There were still many other Asian immigrants we were in competition with for jobs. We had had to pay outrageous prices for food in Angel Island and it had left us lacking any money. We wandered the streets for many cold weeks looking for somewhere cheap to stay. No one would or could afford to give us charity, unfortunately. Finally, my entire family found work in a dangerous factory, very similar to those in China. I started to wonder if America was really better than what we had left... -
The American Dream
The sweat shop we all worked in smelled almost unbearably of bleach and rot. Once again, my husband was separated from my daughter and me. The women and children worked our hands raw sewing fashionable and modern skirts and coats. The fabric was softer than anything any of us had or could imagine owning. I didn't know what the men did, but my husband always looked tired and beat up after work. He would never tell me what his job was, and that led me to believe it was horrible. -
The American Dream Continued
The cheap house we managed to rent was almost in worse than the factory. It was inhabited by more rats than people and was always wet in the winter and fall months. We couldn't afford a bed or more than two blankets. We had to spend all of our money on food. Huidai had inherited my old clothes, and I my husbands. I made a makeshift skirt out of an old cloth that I had seen in the large garbage bins behind our factory. My husband wore the only semi-new clothes. -
The American Dream Continued Two
He insisted that I or Huidai get the new garments instead, but with his job of manual labour, he needed tougher things to wear. Because of our clothing and job we were discriminated against by wealthier people, even of our own race, but mostly white men and women. We lived in these conditions for another two years. -
Dangerous Factories
Our prayers of working in a different factory came true; though not in a good way. One evening, the factory we worked in exploded. Working hours had ended and everyone was home, thankfully enough, though. Someone must've left one of the primitive machines running, and without someone to work it, it overloaded and exploded. We moved, with a group of other workers in the same factory, to Seattle. -
Moving East
We worked in another factory in Seattle for eight years until we had enough money to move east. With all of the Europeans moving west it was difficult to find jobs as they were less discriminated against. We rode on the train, in the third class passenger carriage. We planned to go to New York to start a business with the other Chinese immigrants we had become as close as family with from eleven years of working together. There were twelve of us all together. Maybe we could do it. -
The Cursed Train
As we were moving east a white man came down from the first class compartments with five of his friends. He looked like a business man with his lavish attire and hat. His boots were shined to a mirror-like sheen. He looked down on everyone else like he was the King, but he looked drunk and confused as well. He took Huidai to the back of the train. Everyone in the compartment sprinted after him clawing and slamming themselves into his back, but his friends were expert fighters. They held us back. -
The Cursed Train Continued
We could only watch as he flung her off the train. I could see her skinny body splinter against the tracks, blood spraying up. I felt too much pain in that moment to think, to cry; to do anything but fall limp to the ground. My husband hugged me tightly on the floor and I could see by his face that he was in as much pain as I was. The white men smirked and stepped on my stomach as they all pass over. Once again, our friends rioted against them. -
The Cursed Train Continued Two
Only one woman managed to get a vicious punch in before they were oppressed again. I was thankful for their help, but they couldn't know what I felt. My life... my whole life... dead in a painful instant. She was forever gone from me. When the white men were gone we all held our hands in a circle and prayed for Liang Huidai's soul. Everyone had tears in their eyes… and I was thankful for them, I was thankful that they cared about her. Not like the white men. -
再见
That night my husband and I stood hand in hand, tears pouring down our faces, at the back of the train. In my mind I saw Huidai fall over the rail again and again. Another image interrupted the terrible cinematic of death. Huidai, my daughter, waving at me; smiling. I smiled back reflexively, glad to see her alive. But she wasn’t alive… I squeezed my husband's hand for the last time and he kissed me... I felt a powerful force hit my body and I was with both of them once more.
