It’s a common refrain to say Chinatowns are in decline – not just in Vancouver, but throughout North America. Ironically, in many ways Chinatown’s decline reflects a thriving Chinese population. It is easy to say that the dreams and aspirations of the Chinese community have grown by leaps and bounds – beyond the borders of the old neighbourhood. But for me, without looking backwards, and understanding your past, there cannot be real progress.

Of course, a visit to Chinatown brings back wonderful memories. Memories of grocery bags so laden with a week’s worth of Chinese ingredients, that multiple trips were required back to the car to drop off your goodies. Memories of streets that were so full of shoppers, that finding street parking felt like winning the lottery. Memories of finding a deep sense of community and friendships that spanned decades – at a time when Vancouver not always so welcoming to immigrants. I remember all the older Chinese men who were cut off from their families because of the Exclusion Act – always ready with a little bit of candy and friendly pat on the head for a little kid like me. If you walk along the alleyways of Chinatown, you can see the tiny apartments that many people lived in when there was no other welcome space outside of Chinatown. The family Tongs, the kung fu clubs, Chinese language classes – brought everyone together to shared cultural space when I was growing up.

The truth is that Chinatown has always found room for newcomers and the disenfranchised. Even now, as new shops open, the community continues to make room for everyone – especially residents of the Downtown Eastside who otherwise would not have access to fresh groceries. A visit to the bustling Sunrise Market on Gore and Powell confirms that Chinatown remains vital and alive to the people who live, work, and eat there – and I love the sense of real neighbourhood when I visit.

And when I visit, it is not out of some sense of pity or false nostalgia. It’s where I go to stock up on BBQ pork buns at Maxim’s or hit Dollar Meats for their world-famous lap cheong. It’s where my mom and I recently had an absolutely terrific lunch at Chinatown BBQ. If I am feeling very ambitious, I’ll go to one of the dried goods shops to pick up Sichuan peppercorn, star anise, and dried scallops to make my own version of XO sauce. Chinatown is part of the rhythm of my life in Vancouver and I love that it reflects so much of my family’s personal history. But it’s also the future, a place full of stories waiting to be lived and told.

My childhood is filled with memories of Chinatown. My grandma and uncle used to run a shop in Chinatown, so my mom would often take my brother and I to hang out there. My grandma would always sit at the store front smiling and greeting every customer that would walk in or simply pass by. We would often go for an afternoon snack and frequent The Boss Bakery or Maxims Bakery and Restaurant located on the second floor for their classic HK diner style meal sets that are always at an affordable price. As a Chinese born Canadian, growing up in Chinatown helped me to solidify and embrace my Chinese cultural heritage through the conversations, food, and community shared. It allowed me to know that my cultural identity had a sense of place and purpose. To me, supporting Chinatown in this critical time means preserving the cultural heritage for generations to come.