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ASIAN-AMERICAN
GIVING --- The Chinese Connection: A new force
is emerging in the philanthropic world
December 9, 2002
(Copyright
2002 Dow Jones Company, Inc.)
By
Leslie P. Norton
Oscar Tang's memory of coming to the United
States on a warm August day at the age of
11 is a powerful one. It was 1949, and the
Communists had
just "liberated" Shanghai, driving the Nationalists to a beachhead
on Taiwan. His parents, textile manufacturers in Shanghai -- and capitalist
running dogs, in the patois of the new revolutionary order -- had fled
to Hong Kong, and his elder siblings were already being educated in the
U.S. Tang, the youngest child, and a slightly older sister,
travelled with their mother to Vermont.
The
burden was a heavy one for a bright and homesick
lad with only a smattering of English. Gone forever
was the China he knew, and his mother soon returned
to Hong Kong. Those bewildering first months
were spent at a public junior high school in
St. Johnsbury, Vt., rife with cliques and small-town
distrust. After two years, Tang transferred to
the tiny Rectory School in Pomfret, Conn. There,
John Bigelow, the headmaster, took a shine to
Tang. Bigelow helped him with his English and
his lessons, and soon, the boy thrived. After
two years, Bigelow pushed his young charge to
transfer to the prestigious Phillips Academy
in Andover, Mass.
With
the headmaster's help, Tang went on to Yale,
graduating with an engineering degree in 1960,
and then pushed onward to Harvard Business School.
He got a job on Wall Street, at Donaldson, Lufkin & Jenrette.
After a few years, he cofounded the money-management
firm Reich & Tang, now a part of the money
manager CDC Ixis.
Five
years ago, Tang made a stunning gift to New York's
Metropolitan Museum of Art. His gift for an amount
that was undisclosed, but estimated to be $14
million, enabled the museum to obtain 11 major
paintings from the renowned collector C.C. Wang
and overhaul its Asian galleries. The donation
pushed the Met to the forefront of Chinese painting
collections.
"It's
important to me that Americans learn more about
Chinese civilization and culture," says
Tang, who sees philanthropy as a part of his
journey of assimilation into a new culture.
There
are no hard figures about the amount of giving
by Chinese-American philanthropists. But very
public gifts by Tang and new philanthropists
such as Lulu Wang, who two years ago gave $25
million to her alma mater, Wellesley College,
suggest it's on the rise.
Donors
and experts suggest a kind of ethnic awakening.
After the Sept. 11 terrorist attacks, for example,
New York City's Chinatown, still crowded with
sweatshops and old tenements, teetered on ruin
as rescue efforts closed Ground Zero to tourists
and shoppers. Asian-Americans, occasionally accused
by surveys of being less generous donors than
other Americans, sat up and took note. Equally
disturbing was the case of Wen Ho Lee, the nuclear
scientist who was falsely accused in 1999 of
being a spy. The case, stark evidence of lingering
racism, outraged the Chinese-American community.
Then
came the survey commissioned by the Committee
of 100, a group of prominent Chinese-Americans
that was founded by architect I.M. Pei and cellist
Yo-Yo Ma, among other luminaries. The survey
discovered that one in four Americans holds "very
negative attitudes" towards Americans of
Chinese ancestry, and that one in three is suspicious
about Chinese-Americans' loyalty to the U.S.
Ambivalent feelings toward the Chinese in America
may stem from a history of anti-immigrationpolicies.
That began to change midway through the last
century, as China allied itself with the U.S.
in World War II. The U.S. offered refuge to many
fleeing the mainland. Then, in 1952, the McCarran-Walter
Act allowed Asian immigrants to apply for U.S.
citizenship.
It's
also true that wealth among the Chinese in America
is a relatively recent phenomenon. Early immigrants
were laborers and agrarian workers who dreamed
of returning to China. And for decades, donations
from the vast Chinese diaspora were destined
for home; it's partly for this reason that many
Chinese survived the famines that wracked the
mainland.
Since
Wen Ho Lee, convictions about civic participation
and ethnic identity have changed. Says Jessica
Chao, a prominent consultant to the philanthropic
industry: "I have heard from major and smaller
donors that it was important not only to be involved,
but to be involved visibly."
After
Sept. 11, for example, the Cantonese radio station
now known as WZRC raised $1 million for relief
in Chinatown. The World Journal, the Chinese
newspaper that played a major role in Wen Ho
Lee's acquittal, raised $800,000. And the Chinese
Consolidated Benevolent Association, a Chinatown
Association, disbursed nearly $1 million to workers
in Chinatown.
There
have other prominent Chinese-American philanthropists,
of course, including An Wang, who founded the
Lowell, Mass., computer company Wang Laboratories
and gave millions to New England institutions,
such as Massachusetts General Hospital and Harvard
University. And Charles Wang, founder and former
chairman of Computer Associates -- he stepped
down last month amid an accounting scandal --
has made large gifts to causes in the U.S. and
China.
One
newly prominent donor is Lulu Wang, a patrician
Chinese-American who runs Tupelo Capital Management,
a New York money-management firm. Wang came here
with her family from Shanghai in 1948; a vacation
became permanent immigration as her father, tied
to the Nationalists, opted to stay in America.
Her $25 million gift to Wellesley College, from
which she graduated in 1966, was given to build
a new student center. Construction on the Wang
Campus Center will start next year, and finish
in 2004. Wang has been active for years in philanthropic
circles -- she's a board member of the Metropolitan
Museum of Art, New York public radio station
WNYC, and Wellesley. She's also funding Bill
Moyers' coming PBS series "Becoming American:
The Chinese Experience."
In
the past, Wang and her husband Anthony, who is
Charles Wang's brother and who retired as president
of Computer Associates in 1992, have been quiet
philanthropists. That has changed, particularly
after Wellesley persuaded her that publicizing
her gift would attract other donors. Says Lulu
Wang, "It's much more comfortable to be
fairly private in your philanthropy than to be
a spokesman." But, she adds, "We have
to take some form of visible leadership. Chinese
are understanding that being part of a group
you support lends strength to that group."
The
bulk of donations predictably flows to educational
institutions, given that Confucian culture prizes
education. Wang sees her education as central
to the process of assimilation.
So
does Oscar Tang, who describes the key themes
of his giving as education and Chinese art and
culture. "School gave me the opportunity
to join the mainstream of American life," he
says.
Among the recipients of Tang's philanthropic largess are the Frances Young
Tang Teaching Museum and Art Gallery at Skidmore College; Princeton University's
P.Y. and Kinmay W. Tang Center for Chinese and Japanese Art; and Phillips
Academy.
Carolyn
Chin, a former executive with IBM, recently started
an organization to help women and minorities
in America start companies.
In
the past, she says, Chinese-Americans "stuck
to their own communities." But now their
giving is beginning to broaden. "I personally
have a strong commitment to get Chinese-Americans
more involved in community activities," she
says. "Philanthropy is something very unique
to America, and this is the natural evolution."
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