The People You Meet in Chinatown

Sue Ann Kay

One of the very best places to start a conversation in Chinatown is Mam’s Books. On a recent visit, I popped in to say what’s up to the owner, Sokha, and chop it up. After a quick dap, Sokha introduced me to a shopper in the store whom he swore I’d love to meet. He was correct. She was Sue Ann Kay, a third-generation Chinese American who also happened to be Bruce Lee’s first female student. I could barely believe my luck. She indulged my inquiries about working with Bruce, whom she met in high school, as well as my questions about growing up in Seattle, where she saw Chinatown endure and evolve over the decades. We talked about her inclusion in the Wing Luke Museum—where a photo of her with Bruce Lee in the gym is on display—and how it’s still important to learn how to protect yourself, especially as an elder in the community. I felt equal parts honored and humbled to be in the presence of someone with so much history in her bones, by happenstance no less. Just a month after meeting her, while the Mariners were programming for AANHPI Night, I saw a chance to share and celebrate Kay’s work with an entire stadium. On AANHPI Night in Seattle, Kay threw the ceremonial first pitch, and her story was shared with tens of thousands of people that night. Funny to think what can come from a chat in Chinatown.

Wei Dreams of Dragons

The CID Block Party is one of the many things that gets taken for granted in Chinatown. My first time visiting the CID Block Party was in 2023. I had a vague idea what to expect: lots of food, lots of sounds, lots of smells. I had prepared myself, THC-wise, for the overstimulation. Just as things started hitting, THC-wise, a Chinese man wielding a dragon head on a streamer started prancing about in front of me. I was mesmerized. He swung that dragon around with the finesse of a puppeteer trained in Olympic rhythmic gymnastics. Given my mindset, I really had no other option than to ask this mysterious dancer if I could learn to dragon dance myself. (That’s actually what it’s called, by the way: “dragon dancing.”) My new teacher was named Wei. The lesson was quick, maybe because I’m Chinese myself, but more likely because Wei is a kind and intentional instructor. Within seconds, I, too, was mesmerizing Asian dudes on edibles at the Block Party. Feeling the good vibes, I exchanged contact info with him, and as dragon dancing with your bros often leads to, a friendship began that day. Since then, I’ve shared meals I hold sacred with Wei (such as the bánh bèo at Renton Deli) and practiced dragon dancing in the rain with him at Olympic Sculpture Park. I have helped Wei talk through career changes and life changes, and he’s returned the favor by coaching me through my own struggles over a bowl of rice or soup. He’s managed to change my mind on issues I had no idea were up for debate. Eventually, Wei would dragon dance for me and my wife at our wedding. Our guests are still talking about that dude who lit the night up with his dragons. It’s a friendship I never would have expected to happen, and one I’m so thankful to have started in Chinatown.

Tuyen Than

When you walk through the neighborhood, it’s possible you may encounter a small Vietnamese firecracker of a person zooming around between businesses on an electric scooter (helmet on, of course). Should this occur, you will be face-to-face with the unofficial mayor of the greater CID, which includes Little Saigon, Japantown, and Filipinotown, in addition to Chinatown: It’s Tuyen Than, the Executive Director of the CID Business Improvement Area.

Tom Sollitt

Seattle has the CID Block Party, and Portland had the Legendary Makers Market (LMM), Oregon’s largest Asian-centric event to date. The proprietor of LMM is my friend Tom Sollitt, a Korean American who cares deeply about his community in Portland. I had the opportunity to host Sollitt for a visit in Seattle, so of course we headed to the CID. While we were driving around (looking for parking), he peered out the window, flabbergasted. “Portland’s Chinatown doesn’t look like this,” he said. “I’m surprised to see so many people walking around.” Seattle’s Chinatown is different from others around the nation. Some toe the line of caricature (San Francisco), while others may as well have tumbleweeds (Honolulu). Portland’s is somewhere in the middle, perhaps closer to the latter: a neighborhood neglected by its politicians and thus by its people, yet touted as a cultural institution—if the city’s travel website is anything to go by. So, seeing elderly Asian folks walking about, young people bopping between shops and restaurants, customers negotiating produce prices with squawking vendors was revolutionary to Sollitt. He confirmed as much as we visited spots like Mam’s Books and met with pillars of the neighborhood, like Tuyen.