FEATURED BOOK: FINDING MR. WONG

Susan Crean’s memoir Finding Mr. Wong chronicles her effort to piece together the life of the man she knew as Wong, cook and housekeeper to her Irish Canadian family for two generations. Reminiscing, Crean writes, “I grew up in Mr. Wong’s kitchen …” A Chinese Head Tax payer hired by Crean’s grandfather in 1928, Wong Dong Wong remained on the job following Gordon Crean’s death in 1947. Mr. Wong eventually retired in 1965 and moved to Chinatown. Crean’s homage weaves the various strands of her memories of and discoveries about Mr. Wong during the last 25 years of his life; she travels the streets and histories of Chinatowns in Vancouver and Toronto, Canada, and twice she visits Guangdong, China, where she located his home village, found descendants of his father’s brother, and learned the beginning of his story: orphaned as a newborn, then brought to Canada by his uncle, Wong YeeWoen.

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EVENTS AND SPEAKING ENGAGEMENTS

SPEAKING ABOUT EMILY CARR AT THE AGO

On June 6th I was part of a panel at the Art Gallery of Ontario brought together by curator and writer Sarah Milroy. It was also the week the Truth and Reconciliation Commission made its report. Here is what I had to say about Carr and her legacy. My thanks to Sarah Milroy for the invitation to be part of this gathering today. I would like to note that though I’ve spoken here at the AGO on several occasions — it was usually outside the front door and at a protest — this is the first time I have actually come...

“THE THIRTY PERCENT SOLUTION: SEXISM IN FINE ART” IN THIS MAGAZINE

Article featured in This Magazine, January 1984.

"In 1978 Ottawa artist Jane Martin was the first to brave the opprobrium of the art world by tallying up figures on the number of Canadian Council grants awarded to women in the visual arts, comparing that to the number of women present on the juries. What was truly startling about Martin's findings was the underrepresentation of women."
Susan Crean's "The Thirty Percent Solution: Sexism in Fine Art," was reprinted in Canadian Women's Issues: Volume I: Strong Voices. By Ruth Roach Pierson, Marjorie Griffin Cohen, Paula Bourne, Philinda Masters. Lorimer...

FROM THE BLOG

Chinese Canadian History: Mr Wong

LOOKING FOR WONG DONG WONG

This piece was published in Tai Shan magazine in November, 2010, a scan of which you can download as a PDF (2.3Mb). I am a Canadian writer of Scottish and Irish descent. Two years ago I began work on a book which will include the story of a Chinese Canadian, Wong Dong Wong, who was born in Taishan, and came to Canada as a boy of 16 in 1911. In 1917, he relocated from Vancouver on Canada's West coast to Toronto, and by the late 1920s when he met my grandfather he was working as a domestic cook....

Chinese in Canada History: The Wong's Association

VISITING THE WONGS’ ASSOCIATION

This article was originally published in the Wongs' Association Convention magazine in 2011. You can also download the article as a PDF (2.3Mb). Climbing the narrow staircase to the Wongs’ Association’s third floor office in downtown Toronto, past the plaque reading Wong Kung Har Wun Sun Association in Chinese and English, you reach a nondescript door that gives no hint of what lies beyond. When the association bought the building in 1979 the entire top floor was redesigned and the space opened up. Along with offices and a small kitchen, it now accommodates a large assembly hall with...

OSCAR’S INTERACTIVE SALON

Writer, literary activist and good friend Betsy Warland is currently hosting an inter-active, three-way Salon on her website. It centres on her work-in-progress, Oscar of Between, and each month she posts two excerpts — one from Oscar and one contributed by a guest writer. Then she invites people to riff off the two excerpts. Last month I was the guest writer, and put up a section from the opening of Digging to China. Betsy is a well known Vancouver writer and teacher, former director of The Writers’ Studio at SFU. She’s a poet and non-fiction writer, but in reality...

Catching a Blue Moon

Many’s the year that plans for the summer holidays get diverted or rearranged. But last year it was more like my entire summer got prorogued. Instead of writing away at my cabin-in-the-woods on Gabriola Island, I spent two months tethered to an IV machine dripping 303 ml of pure penicillin into my system each day via a tiny, blue tube, 42 centimetres long, fished through a vein to a position just above my heart. An infection in the knee no one can explain. Repeatedly they ask if I’d had an insect bite, a cut or injury of some sort...

Inside the Cocoon

The present takes over. It became a near full-time job just going for tests, having vitals checked, visits from the physio, the hospital GPs and the lab wanting more blood. I was surprised at what was happening to me, alright; especially when I realized, for example, that I’d not walked in two weeks and didn’t know when I would again. I was also bemused by my placid reaction. Aware at some level, that I was making the best of things; like you do when waiting for the storm to blow itself out so you can continue the hike. When...

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