Ethnic Media
Gudrun Will wonders what all the headlines mean
In the last few years, tall stacks of Ming Pao and Sing Tao have turned up on the newspaper shelves at my local upscale grocery. Since I can’t speak or read Chinese, only the tiny English translation of their chunky name banners allows me to identify them. But I don’t need to understand the intricate characters to know that they sell, and that their numbers must be eating into those of English-language dailies like The Vancouver Sun and The Province. It’s the same story at the small Asian-run shop up the street, where one Chinese-language title augments mainstream offerings, and at the nearby chain megastore, where labeled slots claim a permanent place for the Chinese-language press.
While it’s hard to pinpoint when the shift began, sources of local information written in something other than Canada’s official languages, or targeted to specific cultural circles, have carved out a big public presence. And that’s in Kitsilano, not just Richmond.
The Chinese-language papers aren’t alone in filling an ethnicity-based news niche, or in representing the Lower Mainland’s cultural mix. Across the region, freebies with names like Apna Roots, La Prensa Hispanoamericana and The Afro News clutter sidewalks and floor space, and fill wire stands and news boxes, just about anywhere they are officially (or unofficially) tolerated. Consider the downtown core: Walk into the foyer of the Roundhouse Community Centre or the south entry of the SeaBus and you’ll see rows of cheap folded tabs catering to every identifiable immigrant or settled cultural group. Punjabis, Latinos, black Canadians—everyone has a voice of their own these days.
The extent and variety of these media got me thinking about what role they play in our motley society, and how they relate to existing mainstream news. While these are under-the-radar issues to most people, sometimes it becomes patently clear that the stakes can be high, a reality brought home not long ago with the attempted murder, and then actual murder, of Indo-Canadian Times founding editor Tara Singh Hayer. And with StatsCan’s brand-new prediction that by the year 2017, more than half of the Vancouver and Toronto populations will consist of visible minorities, it’s obvious that the ethnic press (however one might define it) will continue to exist and thrive.
For me, this begs several questions: Is this phenomenon a healthy expression of multiculturalism, or is it evidence of a type of cultural apartheid? Does the mainstream media fail to meet the information needs of minorities? Are some immigrants integration-shy? Or is this simply evidence of entrepreneurs taking advantage of tribally motivated business opportunities, with ever-increasing copycats?
As a media watcher, I’ve grown more and more curious about the increasing piles of headlines and text that I can’t read, and radio or television chatter that I don’t understand. Localized ethnic media isn’t only limited to print, of course, but has also spread to the airwaves and the Internet. The snippets of English in these ethnic broadcasts tell me the shows are rooted in this city—I recognize sponsoring businesses and event locations between the reggae, merengue or bhangra (no Canto-pop, thanks) music I tune into on Fairchild Radio’s 96.1 FM. But could it be that the ethnic communities’ takes on West Coast life are completely different from my own? I wonder about the possibility of parallel worlds.
Since I failed to learn Cantonese or Punjabi when my brain cells were more pliable, my ignorance is my fault—I went for European languages instead. At the time, there wasn’t much linguistically foreign reading material in my everyday world to spur me on. Now I may be able to peer into the more familiar mindscapes revealed in the pages of Milenio or Kanada Kurier, but I still can’t, frustratingly, get much insight into the daily reality of British Columbia’s biggest minorities. As a Vancouverite with a genuine appreciation of the ethnic diversity of my birth city, I’m feeling a bit left out. A fully integrated, colour-blind society may not be the ideal, and maybe even dull, but at the very least I wanted to find out whether the growing quantities of local ethnic media pull us together or set us apart.
* * *
The big-league Chinese-language media arrived with a flood of Hong Kong immigrants in the early 1990s, a cultural wave originating in the uncertainties of the then-rapidly approaching territorial handover from Britain to China. As Richmond boomed, giving rise to civic monikers like Hongcouver, the news options for the fresh and longstanding Chinese population unfolded dramatically. Along with the daily papers came the Fairchild radio and television networks, which, in some cases, linked the Chinese-speaking population with audiences of the same background right across Canada. In the late ’90s, as emigration trends shifted towards Mainland China, Mandarin choices began augmenting the Cantonese programming.
It’s the newspapers, though, that have made an unmistakable impact on the mainstream. As physical objects in the marketplace, you can’t help but notice significant stocks of Ming Pao Daily, Sing Tao Daily and World Journal. While financially independent and locally based, all three are linked to parent companies in Hong Kong and Taiwan, respectively. But they’re not mouthpieces for faraway interests: All the Vancouver-based editions take a pointedly apolitical stance, aimed at drawing as much of the diverse Canadian-Chinese West Coast readership as possible. In fact, they don’t run the unsigned editorials common to almost all newspapers (the voice of the publisher, essentially), although they do print a wide variety of opinion pieces by outside commentators.
“It’s a mixed community, and they know it,” says Jan Walls, director of the David See-Chai Lam Centre for International Communication at Simon Fraser University, during an interview at his Harbour Centre digs. “If they only targeted the Taiwanese community, for example, they’d intentionally cut themselves off from the rest of a huge market. This is a good example of how market dynamics can have a positive influence on perspectives. They don’t want to be cornered in by any single obsession or bias or political agenda.”
The theory seems to be working. Considered the elite paper, Ming Pao estimates its circulation at between 20,000 and 50,000, depending on the day; Sing Tao wouldn’t provide its print run, but says it has an average of 110,000 readers per day (likely based on multiple readers per issue); and Taiwan-linked World Journal says its circulation is between 30,000 and 45,000. (For context, the Vancouver Sun prints between 183,000 and 239,000 papers, while the Province prints 160,000 to 199,000.) In keeping with Asian standards, these dailies also publish seven days a week, rather than the six-day schedule of the English-language local papers, which are also owned by the same company and therefore hardly as competitive. Walls and visiting Hong Kong/US scholar Hau-ling (Helen) Cheng, in town to study Ming Pao, counted another five free weeklies or biweeklies serving the local Chinese-speaking community, with only one being a propaganda sheet for the Falun Gong.
The Chinese-language dailies are also all broadsheets, another deliberate choice that has to do with Asian perceptions, and quite distinct from English-language tabloidification trends, adds Cheng: “In a Chinese context, lots of people regard reporters as intellectuals, or at least semi-intellectuals.”
She and Walls agreed that the Chinese-language papers don’t so much carry different news from the mainstream, but additional news. The papers’ many sections cater to the multiple perspectives natural to these global citizens—locally tagged “astronauts” for their constant cross-Pacific jaunts—including local, regional, national, continental, and Asian news, as well as covering people’s various homelands. Similar sources of information, such as wire services like Reuters and AP, keep their local and Canadian coverage similar to the mainstream’s, but subjects of special interest, such as minor immigration-rule changes, get much more attention.
The warm fuzziness of familiarity, both in terms of language and culture, is a huge factor in the appeal and success of ethnic media. “As long as we rely upon immigration to maintain the population growth that our economy requires, we must be prepared to address the comfort requirements in reading, listening and watching television,” Walls says, “especially of the parental generation and the most recently arrived young generation, whose English is not quite at the level where it’s not a chore to rely primarily upon the mainstream English media. It allows them to become involved in the same kinds of debates that we’re involved in—talking about, you know, homosexual rights, abortion issues, and globalization versus our own narrower interests.”
This dual function—offering an entry portal into the new society while providing niche information—is a major reason why Cheng and Walls see ethnic media in a positive light. Neither believes that Chinese-speaking immigrants cut themselves off from English mainstream culture, or fail to integrate, as a result of its availability. Although Caucasian, Walls is fluent in Mandarin and understands Cantonese, and often participates in the phone-in television shows, so he’s well informed about how that community thinks and what gets discussed. “The Chinese have this lovely folk proverb: Whatever mountaintop you climb to, learn to sing their songs.”
* * *
Unfortunately, this rosy picture isn’t reflected in a batch of graduate-student theses on file at the University of British Columbia’s School of Journalism. About one student essay per year (out of a class of about 20) addresses the under-representation and misrepresentation of ethnic groups by the local mainstream media. (Is it ironic that the Sing Tao company paid for the school’s building?) The papers I perused in the school’s comfy reading room included The Sour Relationship Between the Chinese Community and The Vancouver Sun, by Yi Hu; Yanting Wu’s An Ethnic Press in a Canadian Context: On the Coverage of a Murder in Ming Pao Daily News and The Vancouver Sun, which focused on the 2002 murder of the international student Wei Amanda Zhao; and Arran Yarmie’s The State of Asian Coverage in Vancouver’s Mainstream Press.
Hu’s research (his was the most recent, from 2004) indicates that, of the Greater Vancouver Regional District’s 342,665 Chinese-speaking people (17.2 percent of the total population), fewer than 10 percent read The Vancouver Sun. (To compare, 25 percent of the general population reads that paper.) Furthermore, the top eight media used by this group are all Chinese, with the Sun the ninth choice and BCTV the tenth. The reason for this data, he concludes, is a matter of mutual indifference. Taking samples of the Sun, he showed that only 0.5 percent of stories even bothered mentioning the Chinese in Vancouver, and only one-seventeenth of that tiny percentage was actually about the Chinese community. Besides this, the representation was full of negative stereotypes, or just cultural-festival fluff.
Is it really any wonder that locals of Chinese background trust the Chinese-language media to deliver a more representative and inclusive West Coast point of view? While it’s no doubt unfair to single out the Sun—it’s the most handy comparative artifact—Hu’s paper did quote a mea culpa from its managing editor, Kirk Lapointe: “We cover Chinese New Year and Chinese criminals but nothing in between.” Besides this two-way lack of interest, there have been flashpoints of misunderstanding. At the top of the list is the term “monster homes,” once commonly used in the mainstream to describe the style of single-family houses built by the Hong Kong immigrants. Not exactly diplomatic, regardless of one’s views on the architectural (de)merits. And a complaint over coverage of a high-school knife-slashing incident involving a teenager of Chinese background went all the way to the BC Press Council, but was dismissed.
Hu also listed examples of stories from the fall of 2003 that were front-page news to the local Chinese papers but completely ignored by the mainstream press. These included a critical backlog of immigration applications at the Canadian embassy in Beijing; a sudden 20 percent increase in the price of Thai rice, the Chinatown top seller; and the fact that Hong Kong tycoon (and False Creek north developer) Lee Ka-shing’s donation to a flood-afflicted Chinese area had been embezzled. While Walls and Cheng stressed that the Chinese-speaking community in no way expects more mainstream coverage of its preoccupations, Hu’s informal survey found that the same folks judged the coverage of their interests in English-language papers to be a lacklustre “passable.”
Wherever the blame might lie, it’s unlikely that things will change without more visible-minority bodies in mainstream newsrooms. Despite CBC Vancouver’s high-profile, chocolate-skinned news anchor Ian Hanomansing, plus a smattering of television hosts of colour, such as Citytv’s Simi Sara, most media outfits are still about as white as the paper on which the news is printed. Things are changing—slowly. This could be due to the reluctance of immigrant offspring to take up a career as underpaid, insecure and bereft of opportunity as journalism. Sensitivity training among existing staffers is probably not the answer. Hopefully BC news outlets will move toward recruiting more decision-making editors and street-level reporters with names like Wong and Dhaliwal—and sooner rather than later.
* * *
Numbers and details are harder to come by for the ethnic-media output of this province’s other significant minority: the Indo-Canadian population. About 80 percent is Punjabi and of the Sikh religion, a crowd not known by the mainstream for delicate opinions (or actions) on political and social issues—especially those relating to the establishment of an independent Sikh homeland in the Punjab, or the matter of whether or not to use tables and chairs at temples. This is the context for what is certainly the most dramatic, and tragic, occurrence in the local non-English media scene: the 1998 murder of Tara Singh Hayer, founding editor of North America’s biggest Punjabi newspaper, the locally based Indo-Canadian Times.
The case remains unsolved, but according to Hayer’s son, current Liberal Surrey-Tynehead MLA Dave Hayer, his father’s persistence in penning editorials against fundamentalist terrorism did him in. “If my dad hadn’t written anything about Air India and the suspects that are accused now, he’d still be alive,” Hayer said during an interview at his Fleetwood Town Square constituency office in Surrey, one week before the not-guilty outcome of the case in late March. After his father’s death, Hayer became the assistant publisher of the family paper, and then resigned upon entering politics, a career move the murder inspired. “People start ethnic media for different reasons,” he reflected. “Some start it for political powers, some start it because they want business power, some do it for a love of writing and freedom of expression.”
Unlike the Chinese-language papers, the Punjabi-language press seems to flaunt strong editorial opinions. Hayer explained that newspaper funding ties and points of view are often overtly political, whatever their stripe. While these publishers may be far less globally prominent than the Ming Pao and Sing Tao chains, they are certainly just as tireless: local Indo-Canadians print even more papers than the local Chinese. In a casual count, Hayer mentioned 15 Punjabi-language weeklies based in the Lower Mainland, seven or eight English-language weeklies serving the same community, plus a few magazines—none of which can be making much money.
The Indo-Canadian Times is one of the oldest in the field; Tara Singh Hayer actually commissioned the computer technology to print papers in Punjabi script in the ’70s. Other big players include the English-language, left-leaning Link and Voice (now co-owned), as well as the relative newcomer Asian Star. Radio is also a significant factor, with Shara Punjab on am 1550 and Radio India on am 1600 operating 24 hours a day. These channels reach deeply into the community, and even outsiders are likely to get exposed, says Hayer: “If you take a taxi anywhere in British Columbia, and the driver is Indian, they will have either 1550 or 1600 on.”
Still, without immersing yourself in this community, it’s difficult to get real insight into the field. (Future grad students could help provide a solid foundation here.) In fact, a close Sikh friend of mine who’s lived here for 17 years had no idea so many Punjabi-language papers existed (although, as she puts it, she’s partly on “Sikh leave”). With the help of her mother’s landlords, she did end up handing me two cheerful-looking, advertising-stuffed Punjabi-language weeklies with BC-wide distribution: Panjabi Tribune and Punjab Guardian. I couldn’t read either of them, but I did admire the beautiful script.
Despite what sounds like polarized points of view within the community, some of them not in keeping with Canadian peaceability and tolerance, Hayer still considers ethnic media a positive cultural force. “I think it’s probably bringing people together more than keeping them apart,” he mused. “We’re like a mini United Nations here. You can say it keeps them in their own world, or you can say you’re bringing their perspective in there.”
* * *
There have, in fact, been strong examples of ethnic coverage in the mainstream. Hayer singled out Caucasian Vancouver Sun reporter Kim Bolan for her knowledge about the local Indo-Canadian community and its terrorist elements. “She’s probably one of the most expert [people] on Indian culture in the world. She knows more about what’s happening in the community than anyone, including the police.” (Bolan is currently writing a book about the Air India case.) I’d also noticed Caucasian CBC Television reporter Terry Milewski’s Air India trial coverage, which displayed depth and plenty of visible empathy for victims’ families. One could criticize the focus for landing, once again, on sensational or criminal aspects of a visible-minority group, but it’s hard to imagine that the cultural insights gleaned by these journalists will go to waste.
Hayer agreed that there’s a problem with ethnic under-representation in mainstream newsrooms, but he wasn’t concerned about misrepresentation, given that plenty of the voices within the Indo-Canadian community misrepresent his own beliefs. He also pointed to a recent development at his family’s paper. His sister Rupinder (Rue) Hayer Bains, the current editor of the Indo-Canadian Times, has recently launched a bi-weekly English-language version of the paper, Apna Roots. Geared towards a younger Indo-Canadian generation, whose comfort language would be English rather than their parents’ dialects, it also allows anyone to read a newspaper put together from a South Asian point of view. It’s relatively lightweight journalism, but I was fascinated by the personals in a recent issue, which showed clear evidence of shifting ground between traditional and Western values.
With a bit of digging, it is possible to find more accessible Indo-Canadian media in English. The highly commercial glossy magazine Mehfil (the name translates as Gathering), around for six years in the 1990s, relaunched two years ago and is going strong, says co-publisher Rana Vig. (I rediscovered it online.) Most of its 25,000 copies, published nine times per year, are distributed in rotational free mailouts to the Indo-Canadian community (read: Surrey), with 5,000 copies handed out on Air Canada’s Toronto-to-Delhi flights. While not a bastion of serious journalism, it provides solid social coverage of the community, with a heavy bent towards glittering wedding fashions. More seriously, in March the website asked readers to respond to the following questionnaire: Do you think mainstream media does a good job of reflecting the Indo-Canadian community? The answer, Vig reported, was a resounding no.
These inter-cultural tectonics are reflected in what I find the most integrating—and intriguing—ethnic newspaper around: the English-language The Asian Pacific Post. To me, it’s the herald of an interesting future. Ever since its appearance in news boxes on street corners two years ago, the paper’s unique and grabby headlines —“Couple flees to BC after $30 million swindle in China”—have certainly caught my attention. Colourful as well as serious, the Post hits a level of professionalism mostly unmatched by the little-league, smaller format ethnic press, which generally seems run by semi-amateurs. Another interesting aspect is its choice to focus on not one but many Asian communities, delivering news of and relevant to Indonesians, Malaysians, Singaporeans, Japanese and Philippinos, as well as Chinese and Indians.
In the late 1990s founding publisher Harbinder Singh Sewak worked with fellow Malaysian émigré Fabian Dawson (a long-time Province staffer and now deputy editor-in-chief, who had taken a leave of absence) to turn the Post into a serious contender, said editor Jagdeesh Mann. Dawson and Mann co-authored an article that put the slim folded tab, and perhaps ethnic media as a whole, on the journalistic map: It won the 2003 Jack Webster Award for Best Community Reporting (you can read “Sikh Sect Scandal Erupts at BC Temple” online at www.asianpacificpost.com). Mann added that the paper regularly breaks news that gets picked up by the mainstream press.
As I scoured the city in preparation for writing this article, I also came across a few English-language titles I’d never seen before that jointly addressed the interests of various ethnic communities. One, The Canadian Immigrant, highlighted a feature on ethnic poster boy Hanomansing, as well as on a local marketing expert from Dubai, a lumber mogul from Pakistan, and a realtor from Bulgaria. Its feel-good message seemed to be: Whoever you are, you can make it here. Another, The Source: Forum of Diversity, has a founding publisher by the name of Mamadou Gangué and runs articles in both French and English by writers with last names including Liao, Cattoire, Zylstra, Haddad, Jung, Schisler and Trac.
I don’t know whether these media are a training ground or a parallel universe for ethnic voices, but I’m definitely sensing the beginnings of a real crossover media culture. While ethnic outlets are clearly vibrant—look at the 2003 television launch of Channel M, with its news broadcasts in Cantonese, Mandarin, Punjabi, Korean and Tagalog—a kind of cultural melding seems to be taking place in BC. It’s a phenomenon that’s moving beyond meetings of the local racial spectrum over dim sum, sushi or tandoori, or while shopping at Metrotown or Real Canadian Superstore. We’re getting access to each other’s views and opinions in public communication forums, and we’re participating more broadly, both as journalists and their audience. It may be a harbinger of times that will finally satisfy West Coast residents like me, who harbour a strong streak of pan-ethnic curiosity.
Copyright © Gudrun Will, 2005