Authenticity_Packaging

When I visited Wellington Chen, the head of Chinatown Partnership and Chinatown BID, an innocuous poster that cheerfully reads “Everyone’s Chinatown!” hung above his desk. During the interview, he pointed at it and asked “Who do you think ‘everyone’ is? I think it is absolutely everyone, not just people who look like you and me.”

In many ways, the market represents a complex intersection of authenticity and packaging. The market exists in earnest; it is a place of familiarity and comfort, run by Asian immigrants to allow many like themselves to purchase the ingredients needed for traditional meals, creating a sense of belonging by providing a space for residents to connect with their cultural heritage, over a piece persimmon or a dried sea cucumber.

However, the market also exists within a larger context of societal othering, a pressure to conform to the expectations of non-Chinese residents and tourists who may have preconceived notions of what Chinatown should look like or what "real" Chinese food should taste like. Even today, Sunday shopping around the market means being subjected to the camera lenses of visitors. The network, much like the rest of Chinatown tethers on a thin line between authenticity and packaging. While it is a hub for Chinese culture and heritage, there is a fraught relationship between the community and the pressure to conform to Western expectations of what it means to be "authentically" Chinese.

But as made clear by Chen, this is not without awareness. In fact, vendors and suppliers can be seen to adapt their products and marketing strategies to appeal to tourists and non-Chinese customers. Through the produce market, residents of Chinatown are able to celebrate their cultural identity and assert their place in American society, reclaiming agency over their “exoticized” representation and asserting their right to belong.