America: From a Fallen Child Star to the Head of the University of the West

It was already late at night when I returned to the old warehouse in North Philadelphia.

The taxi stopped in front of the dilapidated warehouse. After paying the fare, Sean did not get out of the car immediately. Instead, he carefully looked around at the surroundings through the car window.

The streetlights were dim, and the sidewalks were deserted. The bar across from the warehouse was still lit, and faint music could be heard coming from inside. Several cars were parked on the side of the road, but it was impossible to tell whether anyone was inside.

Sean looked very carefully, not even missing that corner piled with garbage.

"Mr. Pan, aren't you exaggerating a bit?" Matthew finally couldn't help but complain, looking at Sean's behavior. "There are only rats and stray cats here."

"Better safe than sorry." Sean unbuckled his seatbelt. "I'm a thorn in the side of many people across America now. After that list was released, I not only have to watch out for politicians, but also for the hitmen hired by the capitalists whose interests have been harmed."

"If there were an assassin, he'd probably be knocked out by the smell here first," Matthew laughed.

The two then got out of the car and went into the office together. Sean turned on the light first, then looked at Matthew, who followed him in, as if he remembered something.

"By the way, Matthew, why aren't you back at school yet? Sarah is still waiting for you, isn't she?"

Matthew rolled his eyes inwardly.

I've been following you around all day, and you're only asking this now?

"I'd like to help you edit the video." Matthew placed his equipment on the table. "We shot so much footage today, it needs to be organized."

"Can you edit videos?"

"I know a little." Matthew opened his laptop. "There's an upperclassman in our fraternity who studied media studies. He taught me some basic operations before. Premiere, Da Vinci and stuff like that, simple editing isn't a problem."

After hearing his words, Sean showed a satisfied expression and gave him a thumbs up.

This is truly a delightful surprise. A free photographer, assistant, and now even a part-time editor. The Chinese are indeed just as capable as the Mexicans.

"Okay, the computer is yours." Sean pointed to the slightly old desktop computer. "I'll go get a cup of coffee."

The two quickly got to work. Matthew skillfully imported the footage and began selecting clips. Sean sat to the side, watching the screen and reflecting on the day's events.

"To be honest, that last neighborhood left a deep impression on me today." Sean took a sip of his coffee. "In America, different neighborhoods have completely different sensitivities to political issues. Especially that last neighborhood... Even though they kicked us out, I felt it was a huge vote bank. Philadelphia has about 100,000 Muslims. Maybe we can go back another day, but we'll have to do it in a more moderate way."

"Maybe," Matthew said, staring at the screen without turning his head, "but you'll have to learn how to deal with the leaders of that community first."

"That's true." Sean nodded, then his gaze fell on Matthew's profile. "Speaking of communities... Matthew, I was thinking, since you're of Chinese descent, how about Chinatown? Philadelphia's Chinatown has a lot of history."

Matthew frowned, then gave a wry smile.

"Chinatown? My family actually has a house outside of Chinatown. The Chinatown of today is not what you imagine anymore. There are hardly any Chinese people there."

"How so?"

"It's a long history, Mr. Pan," Matthew sighed. "From the earliest Chinese Exclusion Act to later implicit discrimination, Chinatown is less a community and more a forgotten corner of mainstream society. And now, it's being swallowed up by gentrification."

The Chinese Exclusion Act of the 19th century, the red line policy of the 20th century... Chinese people were restricted to living and doing business in specific areas. Chinatown was no longer their home, but a segregated area.

Matthew paused, then continued:

"Moreover, we all know this. In the racial hierarchy in the United States, Asians, especially Chinese, are in an awkward position. White people look down on us, and Black people feel that we are taking away their resources. Did you know that in Philadelphia's public schools, Asian students have the highest rate of bullying? And the bullies are often not white people."

The most despicable people are those who promote the idea that Chinese people are hardworking and resilient. Once you can endure hardship, you will have endless hardship to endure!

"It's like a game of big fish eating small fish," Sean said thoughtfully.

"That's right. Chinatown is especially like that now. By the way, are you familiar with the recent 'Protect Chinatown, No More Basketball Courts' movement?"

"Now that you mention it, I think I've heard something about it." Sean nodded. "It seems the 76ers are planning to build a new arena in the city center, right next to Chinatown."

"It's not just next to it, it directly cuts off the lifeline of Chinatown." Matthew's mood was somewhat low. "If that venue is built, Chinatown will be completely squeezed out, rents will rise, old shops will close down, and in the end, only an empty shell with lanterns hanging on it will be left, becoming a tourist's photo spot."

Moreover, basketball is a typical sport associated with Black people, which further shrinks the living space for the Chinese community.

Sean patted him on the shoulder. "That's definitely a problem. But it's also an opportunity, Matthew. If someone can stand up and speak up for them..."

"It's difficult." Matthew saw through his intention. "It's not just a matter of external pressure, but also internal disunity. The Chinese community... how should I put it, it's too fragmented. Older immigrants look down on newer immigrants, and newer immigrants look down on older immigrants. Especially those who have come from mainland China in recent years."

"You felt it too?"

"Of course. Many of them even hate their skin color and origin." Matthew laughed mockingly. "They desperately want to assimilate into white society and are more resentful of their fellow countrymen than whites and blacks. They think that as long as they cut off their ties with the past, they can become superior Chinese."

"Ah, I understand." Sean nodded knowingly. "It's what they call 'nurturing people.'"

"A gentle person?" Matthew paused for a moment, "That's a very fitting word."

"These kinds of idiots are everywhere," Sean said dismissively. "They think changing their place will change their failed lives, but they don't realize that some inferiority complexes are ingrained in their bones. But speaking of which, what's the leading organization for Chinese people in Philadelphia, or rather, Chinese people in Pennsylvania, now? Is it still those hometown associations from before?"

"Nominally, yes." Matthew turned his attention back to the screen. "Like the Hung Mun, the Chee Kung Tong, the Chinese Consolidated Benevolent Association, and various chambers of commerce. But their influence is much less than before. The younger generation simply doesn't listen to them."

Sean didn't say anything more, just watched Matthew operate the system quietly. Frame by frame, the images on the screen flashed by, showing the various faces they had interviewed on the street that day, up to Sean's speech to the camera before they were finally kicked out.

Suddenly, Sean moved and pointed to the gray building behind them on the screen, which was the Philadelphia Community Support Center.

"Wait, go back."