Introduction
When Marilyn Fong Joe described her mother, Ida Owen Wy, she summed it up simply: “She did it all” [Marilyn Fong Joe, 23:00]. After getting a divorce when Marilyn was still very young, Ida ran her own grocery store in Blytheville, Arkansas, serving as the butcher, the cashier, the stocker, and the caretaker of both her children and her ailing mother. Even after falling ill and closing her first store, she later opened two more on her own. Though the store may have been called “Jimmy’s Grocery” after her son, it was Ida’s relentless labor that kept both the business and her family afloat.
Much of the existing scholarship on Chinese Americans in the South has overlooked this dynamic. Earlier studies have tended to emphasize how Chinese families navigated the hegemonic White community and the Black-White racial binary. Lucy M. Cohen’s Chinese in the Post–Civil War South focuses on male laborers in the late nineteenth century, while James Loewen’s The Mississippi Chinese and Shaolu Yu’s research on Chinese grocery stores in the Mississippi Delta center on the ambiguous racial position of Chinese families in Jim Crow society. Work specifically on Chinese women, such as Judy Yung’s and Erika Lee’s work, largely focus on urban communities. Together, this research has offered valuable insights into Chinese American life, but it leaves the dynamics within Chinese families in the South, and the roles of women within those families, underexplored.
Looking closely at the lives of Chinese American women in Arkansas allows us to see how the region’s racial hierarchies interacted with gendered expectations and shaped women’s labor, opportunities, and community roles in ways distinct from their urban counterparts. In cities, women often had access to larger Chinese nationalist or civic organizations; in rural Arkansas, they built networks through churches, customers, and local relationships. Drawing on oral histories collected by the Arkansas Chinese Heritage Project, this exhibit offers a corrective to earlier narratives that center men or urban spaces. While archival and economic records often credit fathers with running family businesses, the memories of the children who grew up in these households reveal the essential, and often invisible, work of mothers and daughters whose efforts sustained both their families and their communities.
The Exclusion of Chinese Women
From the first wave of arrivals in the 1840s, Chinese migration to the United States was deeply gendered. Most men came as temporary laborers—sojourners working in gold mines, building railroads, or replacing formerly enslaved Black laborers on Southern plantations—often intending to earn money and return to their families in China rather than permanently settle in the U.S. However, when around 900 Chinese women, many of them sex workers, arrived in California, they became the justification for the first restrictive federal immigration law. The Page Act of 1875 barred the entry of Chinese women deemed “immoral,” allowing officials to interrogate and reject entry of any Chinese woman regardless of age, marital status, or background [Lee, 30–31].
The Chinese Exclusion Act of 1882 followed soon after, prohibiting most Chinese laborers from entering the country while allowing exceptions for certain groups such as merchants, U.S. citizens, and their families. This meant that many Chinese women could only enter the country through their relationship to a man—as a wife or daughter—not as individuals in their own right [Yung, 4]. U.S. immigration officials used markers like bound feet to signal a woman’s virtue and social status, interpreting them as signs that a woman was of a higher class and not likely to be a sex worker [Lee, 95].
While legal barriers shaped immigration patterns, Chinese patriarchal norms also played a role. Families often discouraged “respectable” women from traveling abroad, especially alone [Lee, 115–116]. Susie Tonyman of Arkansas City, Arkansas called that her parents entered an arranged marriage in 1918, but her mother, Ng Gum Toy, was unable to come over until 1926 “because they only allowed 105 people in per year” [Susie Tonyman, 00:27:29]. When her mother was finally able to immigrate, Susie noted that her brother, who was only six years old at the time, “had to be her caretaker” on the journey–even a young boy was considered the appropriate guardian for a grown woman [Susie Tonyman, 00:27:29]. As immigration laws slowly relaxed and gender roles shifted in China, more women arrived; most often as the wives or daughters of merchants or American citizens [Lee, 116].
By the 1930s, scrutiny of Chinese women at ports of entry had eased, and those claiming ties to U.S. citizens or merchants were generally granted admission [Lee, 206–207]. During World War II, as a concession to China’s status as a U.S. ally, Congress passed the Magnuson Act of 1943, which repealed Chinese exclusion and established a small quota for Chinese immigration. Soon after, the War Brides Act of 1945 further expanded women’s entry by allowing foreign wives of U.S. servicemen to immigrate without regard to quotas or visas. As a result, migration patterns shifted significantly, with around 90% of new Chinese immigrants between 1948 and 1952 being women, many joining their husbands in the United States [Lee, 245–246].
While many Chinese men in the South during the late nineteenth century were single laborers working on railroads and plantations, the region gradually shifted toward more family-centered communities in the early twentieth century. Loewen notes that in the Mississippi Delta and other parts of the South, some Chinese men who became U.S. citizens returned to China to marry and have children, later bringing their wives and children back with them. Others married Chinese women from elsewhere in the United States. Over time, these reunions created more permanent family structures, moving away from the transient “sojourner” mindset [Loewen, 70-71]. Thus, in many Southern towns, Chinese grocery stores became family enterprises.
Mothers in the Store and at Home
Despite the fact that fathers are usually credited for the success of the stores—their names even being the ones that graced the front of the store—it was frequently the mothers who kept things running day to day, both in the front of the store and in the household spaces attached to it. Even when children remember their fathers as the business heads, it was often their mothers behind the counter greeting customers, running the cash register, caring for the children, and keeping the household functioning.
In many families, the mother acted as the store’s cashier, a role that required both accuracy and customer service. Lucy Joe Fong described how her mother, Quan Ngue Sin, “like most Chinese wives of the merchants,” worked at the front of Frank Joe Grocery in West Helena, Arkansas—ringing up customers, making change, and managing goods [Lucy Fong, Follow-up Interview, 32:49]. These stores were typically open long hours, sometimes from as early as 5 AM to as late as 10 PM, to serve working customers before and after their shifts. Mothers like Sue Ling Go of Pine Bluff, Arkansas had to coordinate their home responsibilities around these hours. Her daughter, Beverly Go Wasson, recalled how Sue Ling would cook dinner for the family at 5 PM in the back of the store—where the family also lived—before returning to the counter while her husband finished eating and then took over for her to eat dinner [Beverly Go Wasson, 10:59].
“And my mom always said ‘Today’s work is today’s work, tomorrow’s work is tomorrow’s work. If you don’t do today’s work, tomorrow you’re going to have twice as much work to do.'” – Lucy Joe Fong
Women’s labor extended beyond the store operations. Ruby Chu from Lake Village, Arkansas noted that her mother, King Ying Lee, stayed home to care for the children when they were young, only joining the store once the kids were old enough to attend school [Ruby Chu, 00:09:08]. This kind of unpaid and often invisible labor was essential to keeping both the family and the business afloat.
Some mothers also took on independent ventures—balancing entrepreneurial work with childcare and caregiving. Doris Seid Lum of Blytheville, Arkansas, the mother of Dr. Don Lum, helped with the family grocery store but also ran her own restaurant during World War II, serving beer to airmen and even occasionally arranging their taxi rides home [Don Lum, 01:00:59]. After her divorce, Ida Owen Wy ran her own grocery store in Blytheville while raising two children and caring for her ailing mother. When illness forced her to close the store, she didn’t stop. Once she recovered, she went on to open two more on her own. Reflecting on how rare it was for Chinese women to serve as the primary proprietors of grocery stores, her daughter Marilyn explained, “she was pretty much a pioneer” [Marilyn Fong Joe, 01:02:16]. After selling the family store following her husband’s death, Seid Mei Yen of Hughes, Arkansas, the mother of Ping Fong Jr., took over managing the family’s finances. Building on investments her husband had originally made in blue chip stocks such as AT&T, American Airlines, and R.J. Reynolds Tobacco, she continued to manage and expand the portfolio, while also overseeing income from the 200 acres of farmland he owned. Through her careful management, she was able to support her children through college [Ping Fong, 01:06:41].
These stories show that Chinese American mothers not only fulfilled the expected roles of caregivers within the home but also served as critical business partners whose labor was foundational to the success and survival of their families.
Education: Lost Opportunities and Everyday Learning
While Chinese men often had access to more formal education in early 20th-century China, women were rarely afforded the same opportunities. Women were expected to stay home as the “mistresses of domestic affairs,” with an emphasis on raising children and managing the household, making education for girls a low priority; a Chinese proverb even warned, “A woman too well educated is apt to create trouble” [Yung, 18–19]. As a result, many Chinese immigrant mothers had little or no formal schooling upon moving to Arkansas. Despite this, many of these women still held a deep desire to learn. Doris Seid Lum, for example, had a strong passion for education, but after immigrating to the U.S., she gave up the chance to further her own learning in order to care for her children [Don Lum, 01:12:51]. In a newspaper interview following her second time being named National Chinese Mother-of-the-Year, she reflected, “I feel miserable… I wanted the children to have that education. I don’t want them to feel like I do.” Ruby Chu similarly recalled that her mother received only the limited education allowed to her in China, teaching herself much of what she knew later in life [Ruby Chu, 00:17:02].
Some mothers were able to pursue a formal education in the United States, though their paths were often shaped by circumstance and opportunity. Ida Owen Wy, for instance, was born in Mississippi at a time when Chinese children were barred from attending White schools. As a result, her family sent her and her siblings back to China to receive a formal education. According to her daughter, the Wong family was relatively well known in Guangdong, which allowed Ida educational opportunities that many women in China may not have had [Marilyn Fong Joe, 00:06:08]. When the children returned to the U.S., they were able to continue their schooling at the Chinese Mission School in Cleveland, Mississippi. Her learning didn’t end with her schooling; Marilyn recalled that her mother not only spoke Chinese and English, but also learned Spanish while running a store that served many Mexican customers [Marilyn Fong Joe, 00:23:24].
“My mother was a wonderful, loving, caring mother who did her best for all of us. And she put a premium on education.” -DON LUM
For immigrant women, language was often a major barrier. Many never learned to read or write in English, only picking up the vocabulary needed to manage transactions in the store. Lucy Joe Fong shared how her sister Annie helped their mother, Quan Ngue Sin, study for her verbal citizenship test, which she passed in 1960 despite not being able to read or write English [Lucy Joe Fong, 00:32:43].
Still, some mothers became informal educators within their homes. Lucy recalled her mother teaching her Cantonese word-by-word at home; she would write them phonetically in a notebook to study [Lucy Joe Fong, 00:44:17]. Elisa Pang explained that the little Chinese she knew came from her mother, who spoke only in Chinese at home [Elisa Pang, 00:11:14]. For many, this was the extent of their language learning—just enough to communicate with their mothers. Marilyn Fong Joe explained that her mother didn’t emphasize teaching Chinese because she worried it would confuse the children [Marilyn Fong Joe, 01:08:17]. In some cases, the absence of Chinese language instruction stemmed less from parental choice and more from a lack of community resources. Beverly Go Wasson recalled how her friends who visited California would return with stories of Chinese schools and cultural programs, but noted, “We didn’t have all that stuff” in Arkansas [Beverly Go Wasson, 00:48:21].
Preserving Culture in Everyday Life
Although many Chinese American families prioritized English and academic success for their children, mothers continued to preserve and express cultural identity in other ways—particularly through food and family traditions. Most mothers cooked Chinese food at home and passed down culinary skills, though some also learned how to prepare American dishes. Lucy Joe Fong remembered that her mother would make fried chicken and share it with the young men who occasionally worked in the store, which they would often rave about [Lucy Joe Fong, 00:13:24]. Elisa Pang shared that customers could smell her mother’s cooking from the back of their store in Dumas, Arkansas, and sometimes they were even invited to eat [Elisa Pang, 00:19:02]. In this way, food became both a form of cultural preservation and a means of building community connection.
In addition to cooking, many mothers kept gardens filled with Chinese vegetables. Marilyn Fong Joe recalled that her mother grew bitter melon (foo gwa, 苦瓜) and calabash (pu la gua, 蒲拉瓜) in their backyard [Marilyn Fong Joe, 01:11:31]. Dr. Don Lum similarly remembered his mother growing tomatoes and bitter melon behind their home [Don Lum, 01:03:32]. Beyond food, cultural knowledge extended into traditional medicine: Don Lum’s mother practiced Chinese remedies such as drinking pigeon blood to ease her asthma and even performing acupuncture on herself [Don Lum, 01:04:48]. Ruby Chu also described her mother’s use of traditional Chinese medicine—for example, having someone catch a rattlesnake, placing it in a jar, and pouring whiskey over it, which her mother believed would “heal everything” [Ruby Chu, 00:41:33]. Ruby clarified, “I wouldn’t drink it if you paid me,” though she says her paternal grandmother frequently did.
Perhaps the most deeply held tradition many mothers tried to preserve was marrying within the Chinese community. This expectation often created tension between generations. Beverly Go Wasson recalled that when her mother found out she was dating someone who wasn’t Chinese, her mother was furious; even though her father tried to calm the situation, the household felt tense for a long time afterward [Beverly Go Wasson, 38:00]. Ping Fong Jr. similarly remembered how his mother didn’t leave the house for three days after his sister married a White man, though she eventually softened once grandchildren arrived [Ping Fong, 00:52:48].
Daughters in the Middle: Labor, Identity, and Adaptation
While their mothers maintained cultural traditions and their fathers often ran the formal business operations, daughters of Chinese American families in Arkansas were caught in the middle—expected to contribute labor to the store while also navigating American schools, social expectations, and racial dynamics. They worked long hours alongside their siblings, served as cultural and linguistic bridges for their parents, and eventually pursued higher education and careers. Their experiences illustrate how gendered labor intersected with assimilation and social mobility.
Few families hired outside help for their stores; the employees were usually their own children. Lucy Joe Fong recalled that her father expected her and her sister to work just as hard as the boys, and they often took on physically demanding tasks together, like pushing a manual lawn mower or carrying hundred-pound bags of chicken chops [Lucy Joe Fong, 01:21:05]. Beverly Go Wasson sorted Coke bottles, stocked shelves, and placed price labels on goods from vendors [Beverly Go Wasson, 11:28].
Despite their work efforts equalling that of sons, daughters often faced double standards at home and in the store. Lucy noted that she and her sister were expected to return to the store and help anytime they were free—even during college breaks—while their brothers had more flexibility and free time [Lucy Joe Fong, 00:47:28]. Elisa Pang similarly recalled that the girls worked in the store more than the boys; if the boys wanted to attend summer school, they could, and when it came to education, “the girls come second” [Elisa Pang, 00:13:48]. Beverly echoed this sentiment, saying her brother was treated as the “number one son” and often got away with more than she or her sister [Beverly Go Wasson, 39:39].
Beyond labor, many daughters became key figures in building social ties outside their immediate communities. While their parents often kept to small circles of friends among other Chinese families, the daughters often formed friendships with White classmates through school and extracurriculars. They also played active roles in Christian churches, even though their parents usually did not. For many parents who had been born in China, barriers such as not speaking English, needing Sundays for household work, or simply not being accustomed to Christianity kept them from attending. Still, parents often viewed churches as safe spaces for their children to socialize and make friends. Ruby Chu recalled that her kindergarten teacher would pick her up every Sunday to take her to a Baptist church, and her mother made sure she was dressed and ready each week [Ruby Chu, 01:15:11]. Elisa Pang participated in local organizations like the Rainbow Girls, a youth service group for girls that was originally Masonic-affiliated, and attended Arkansas Girls State in high school [Elisa Pang, 00:24:09].
One of the main ways the children built connections beyond their immediate towns was through Chinese community dances, usually held in Greenville or Cleveland, Mississippi. The most famous were the Lucky Eleven dances, organized by a group of eleven Chinese college boys and typically held during summers and holidays. These dances featured contemporary American music like rock ’n’ roll, were rarely chaperoned by adults, and often saw youths bringing in liquor [Marilyn Fong Joe, 01:05:11]. In addition, many Chinese weddings sponsored their own dances in honor of the couple. Together, these events served as important social gatherings for young Chinese Americans—especially as opportunities to meet potential spouses. Elisa Pang and Marilyn Fong Joe both met their husbands at such dances. Reflecting on these experiences, Elisa Pang recalled that her parents strongly encouraged her to attend, never minding the long distance she had to travel or the late nights she spent there, “as long as we were meeting Chinese people” [Elisa Pang, 00:30:11].
“that’s how a lot of the Chinese people met their husbands and wives. They met them at these Chinese dances. We had a lot of fun back then. Sometimes we’d come home when the sun was coming up.” -ELISA PANG
Following their parents’ hopes for upward mobility, many daughters pursued higher education and professional careers. Ruby Chu became the first in her family to graduate from college, going on to dental school, followed by her sister who earned a degree in public relations and broadcast communications [Ruby Chu, 00:15:54]. Marilyn Fong Joe’s mother strongly encouraged her to pursue a medical-related career, and one of Marilyn’s sorority sisters helped her discover the dental hygiene program at the University of Arkansas for Medical Sciences [Marilyn Fong Joe, 00:51:52]. Later, she fulfilled a personal dream of becoming a flight attendant—illustrating how this generation not only met their parents’ expectations but began to define success on their own terms.
Conclusion
The history of Chinese Americans in the rural South has long been told through the lens of male entrepreneurs navigating a Black and White racial landscape. But behind every store counter, every carefully balanced ledger, and every simmering wok in the back room, Chinese American women were there—working, sacrificing, adapting, and leading in their own right.
Mothers sustained businesses not only with their labor but with their cultural knowledge and fierce dedication to their children’s futures. Their daughters carried that legacy forward, growing up between two cultures and forging new paths in education, careers, and community life.
By centering the voices of Chinese American women in Arkansas, this exhibit challenges the narrative that immigrant women were merely passive or domestic figures, confined to the background. These stories reveal that women were not passive participants in family life or silent figures behind their husbands—they were central to the survival and success of Chinese American communities in the South.
Discussion Questions
- How did the roles and responsibilities of Chinese American mothers differ from those of their daughters in 1950s and 1960s rural Arkansas? In what ways did these roles overlap?
- How did gender expectations shape the types of work Chinese American women performed both inside and outside the home?
- How might exclusionary immigration laws such as the Page Act and the Chinese Exclusion Act have influenced the experiences of Chinese women and their families in Arkansas?
- In what ways did daughters act as cultural and linguistic bridges for their families? How might this role have affected their opportunities and identities?
References and Further Reading
- Cohen, Lucy M. Chinese in the Post-Civil War South: A People Without a History. Baton Rouge: Louisiana State University Press, 1984.
- Loewen, James W., and Robert Coles. The Mississippi Chinese: Between Black and White. Illinois: Waveland Press, Inc, 1988.
- Lee, Erika. At America’s Gates : Chinese Immigration during the Exclusion Era, 1882-1943. Chapel Hill: University of North Carolina Press, 2003.
- Yu, Shaolu. 2021. “Placing Racial Triangulation, Triangulating Place and Race: Chinese Grocery Stores in the Mississippi Delta during the Jim Crow Era .” Annals of the American Association of Geographers 112 (1): 97–122. doi:10.1080/24694452.2021.1907171.
- Yung, Judy. Unbound Feet: A Social History of Chinese Women in San Francisco. Berkeley: University of California Press, 1995.