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Chinatown (Part 3 of 3)
Where was I in 1954
when the new highway slid another tentacle through Chinatown
and homes were replaced by asphalt and chain-link fence
and half of the lives were gone
introduced so briefly to the powers of eminent domain
Where was I in 1978
when the construction of affordable housing
for the elderly of Chinatown
was blocked by a medical center.
A medical center that heals the sick,
supports communities and helps the city
but couldn’t bring itself to
take its eyes off the dollar and
provide homes for seniors?
Where was I in 1990 when income in Chinatown was the lowest in the city, when half of Chinatown’s children and elderly lived in poverty, when Chinatown had more people per acre than any other neighborhood in Boston, and the homeless in the neighborhood still
outnumbered the residents.
Where was I?
The same place I am today, where tentacles and imaginary gates still mean more than lines on maps and I can find myself here drinking tea.
Because Chinatown belongs to its people
wherever they’re from.
And we’ll always be here to fight anybody who tries to take it away from us again.
© Giles Li
