I've known Edgar Wickberg since the late 1980s, first through his work and later on as a mentor and friend. Being a Filipino of ethnic Chinese background I've always been interested in the history of the Chinese in the Philippines, and Ed's work, along with those of Chinben See and Teresita Ang See, provided me initially with the tools and knowledge to understand this history. As everyone knows, Ed's The Chinese in Philippine Life ([1965]2000) remains the most influential book in the field, and its relevance encompasses and extends to not only the field of Chinese Diasporic Studies but also Philippine Studies in general. With so much insight and details into the Chinese community in the Philippines during the Spanish colonial period, his pioneering work laid (and continues to do so) the foundation for future works to study and understand contemporary ethnic relations between the Chinese and the Filipinos.
It was at the Kaisa office, when it was still in Binondo, that I first met him. Teresita Ang See introduced us. I could not remember exactly what I said to him then, but I do recall standing before him feeling in awe, for there I stood face-to-face with the man whose work I admired so much. I was a "nobody" then, since I was just about to leave for the United States to begin my graduate work. However, despite his reputation as a well-known scholar, he did not exude any air of aloofness or snobbery. Instead, what I remembered was his kind face and friendly smile, and he encouraged me to get in touch with him when in the U.S. So throughout those years of my finishing my degree and writing my dissertation, publishing my first articles, landing my first job, and writing my first book, he and I kept in touch. All throughout these times, Ed had been a guiding light and inspiration. He never hesitated to provide me with feedback whenever I sent him my works to read, and even when we sometimes differed in our ideas and perspectives on certain historical questions or issues, Ed remained open and generous with his time, knowledge, and energy.
Welcoming of new ideas and paradigms, even if these may contradict or challenge one's own; supportive of younger scholars like me; a man with wide intellectual breadth and knowledge, exacting as a scholar but also generous in sharing his knowledge—these are the reasons why Ed is my role model. His works taught me so much about what I needed to know to be a historian, but his words and actions taught me how to be a true gentleman-scholar.
Saturday, November 29, 2008
Tuesday, November 25, 2008
Goodbye, Ed
By Teresita Ang See, Philippines
Founding President, Kaisa Para Sa Kaunlaran, Inc.
Secretary, (ISSCO) International Society for the Studies of Chinese Overseas
I was with a nephew for consultations at the Johns Hopkins’ Wilmer Eye Institute in Baltimore, Maryland enjoying free wireless internet access when I was jolted by a short email from Ed, a long time friend of 37 years. “My prostate cancer has taken a turn for the worse. Treatment has stopped and I'm at home, barely able to drag myself around. I just collapsed a couple of weeks ago. The oncologist gives me only two months to live and I can understand why. Sorry about the news. At some point, Ellen will contact Norbert about sending the rest of my Philippine stuff to you. All the best.” Ed
I was shocked and sad upon reading the note. I said a silent prayer of hope that he would not suffer much from his illness. I was deeply touched also that even when deathly ill, he still remembered us and had made arrangements to send the rest of his Philippine files (mostly his research materials on the Chinese in the Philippines, which he had been sending to us for the past two years). I was determined to visit him to say goodbye, so I immediately looked for information on applying for a visitor’s visa to Canada.
The email was dated Oct. 5, Sunday. After we were done with consultations at John Hopkins on Oct. 8, I flew to Los Angeles and went to the Canadian mission there the next day.
I am always amazed at how governments often put difficult, rude, and often hostile, immigration officers in the front line of their consular offices. The Canadian office in L.A. was no exception. Or maybe he just doesn’t like Filipino passports?
The officer insisted that I did not have enough reason to leave Canada and return to the Philippines, even though I showed him cancelled visas on my passport to Schenggen, British, South Africa, Australia, China, Taiwan and many Southeast Asia countries. He refused to listen even when I reasoned out, “what if I can prove to you that I don’t even need to be employed?”
He replied: “We cannot evaluate those things here. You should apply at your point of origin, and that’s the Philippines.” I told him it takes only three hours for me to go to Vancouver from L.A., and three days (including the time change) from L.A. to Manila to Vancouver.
Our interview was going nowhere. He could not be persuaded. In the end I told him, “Your loss is my gain. You just saved me U.S.$500 (PhP25,000) in airfare to Canada and denied me a chance to do my Christian duty. My fare could have been my contribution to the failing U.S. economy.”
On my way back, I thought, “How Ed would have laughed at that experience.”
Two weeks after I got Ed’s email, his wife Ellen informed me that he passed away Oct. 29. It was too late for me to try again to see him.
I first met Ed in 1971 when I had just finished college and worked with Pagkakaisa Sa Pag-unlad (which became today’s Kaisa). The non-government organization was made up of idealistic Chinese-Filipinos; young academicians, professionals, businessmen. The main objective was to push or hasten the integration of Chinese Filipinos into mainstream society. It was the only one of its kind in the world, and the name of the organization spells out its objectives. Pagkakaisa’s (unity) main objective is to push integration, unity and coherence, regardless of race, religion, beliefs or traditions. It hopes to lessen ethnic conflict and racial discrimination in all forms. The Pag-unlad (progress) part was meant to push development and progress through projects and activities in depressed communities and to tap the potentials of the Chinese Filipinos in nation-building efforts.
Ed was very much a part of the organization.
He was really excited to see the organization and its objectives flourish. Among the founders was my late husband, Professor Chinben See, a good friend of Ed, who exchanged lengthy letters and hours in discussions and debates. They were bound by their common interest in research on the Philippine Chinese. Ed learned and was happy that his research output were not confined only to the academe and can have social impact. After all, the organization pushed research agenda not just for its sake but for it to have impact on government policy on the Chinese in the Philippines. He encouraged us in our lobby for the jus soli principle of citizenship at the 1971 Constitutional Convention.
Ed’s insight and advice were often sought when the organization started. We invited him for round-table discussions with members whenever he was in town.
Fast forward to 1997, Ed was really happy and excited when he learned that we had successfully realized our dream of putting up a heritage center as a repository of the historical and cultural legacy of the Chinese Filipinos in all aspects of Philippine life. When the Center opened in 1999, Ed’s name was included as one of the founding members because he donated money for the building of the three-story heritage center that includes an extensive library on Chinese overseas, a research and data bank, photo archives and Bahay Tsinoy – Museum of the Chinese in Philippine Life. He was the first to observe that it must be deliberate that we chose the walled city of Intramuros as the location for the Center.
“Where the Spaniards deliberately kept you out, you now conquered and reclaimed,” he quipped in good humour.
He regularly received our fortnightly Chinese-Filipino digest, Tulay (Bridge) and would often send comments on the articles he found there. He also sent us articles and essays we could put to good use for the digest. He was quite elated when his dream of a Canadian Chinese Historical Society saw fruition and sent us loads of materials on the new organization. When his seminal book, The Chinese in Philippine Life, 1850 to 1898 was re-published by the Ateneo de Manila University Press, he arranged for proceeds of the book’s sales to go to Kaisa. We used the money for postage whenever we needed to send him things. One time, a package we sent him was received after 18 months. He laughingly told us how the package appeared to have traveled all over the world because of the postal cancellations. Apparently, with the address University of British Columbia, the post office only saw Colombia and sent it to there, from where it was forwarded somewhere else before it landed up in Vancouver. We had such a laugh over the traveling the “lost” package must have had.
Five years ago, he started sorting through his research materials, a lot of which were kept at the University of British Columbia store room, in boxes. He started shipping most of these materials which he knew we could put into good use. Some of these included the archival materials from the Philippine National Archives and his research notes for his Ph.D. dissertation, which later became his book. Norbert Chingcuanco, our Chinese-Filipino friend in Vancouver, crated the boxes in his hardware strength plastic boxes and negotiated with Philippine Airlines to ship the research materials to us. Ed would always be amazed at how such “Chinese connections” worked.
Ed had known me for nearly 40 years and had been a part of all the ups and downs of my work with the Tsinoys (colloquial for Tsinong Pinoy or Chinese Filipinos). Even the coining of the word Tsinoy, and its wide acceptance in the Philippines, was to him a triumph indeed. He was always so meticulous in his work and one time, he voiced out a comment on a line in our organization’s credo: “Our blood may be Chinese but our roots grow deep in Filipino soil and our bonds are with the Filipino people.” He said the use of “may be” Chinese was too “apologetic” for we need not apologize for our Chinese blood.
That’s ED for us in Kaisa, the quintessential scholar and teacher. Now, every time we see his research materials and make use of them, we will remember him with fondness. With his passing, the first generation of researchers on the Chinese in the Philippines – Ed Wickberg, Charles McCarthy, Chinben See and Antonio Tan – have all passed on. We, their successors have a lot to live up to and will always treasure the pioneering work they (especially Ed) have done.
Founding President, Kaisa Para Sa Kaunlaran, Inc.
Secretary, (ISSCO) International Society for the Studies of Chinese Overseas
I was with a nephew for consultations at the Johns Hopkins’ Wilmer Eye Institute in Baltimore, Maryland enjoying free wireless internet access when I was jolted by a short email from Ed, a long time friend of 37 years. “My prostate cancer has taken a turn for the worse. Treatment has stopped and I'm at home, barely able to drag myself around. I just collapsed a couple of weeks ago. The oncologist gives me only two months to live and I can understand why. Sorry about the news. At some point, Ellen will contact Norbert about sending the rest of my Philippine stuff to you. All the best.” Ed
I was shocked and sad upon reading the note. I said a silent prayer of hope that he would not suffer much from his illness. I was deeply touched also that even when deathly ill, he still remembered us and had made arrangements to send the rest of his Philippine files (mostly his research materials on the Chinese in the Philippines, which he had been sending to us for the past two years). I was determined to visit him to say goodbye, so I immediately looked for information on applying for a visitor’s visa to Canada.
The email was dated Oct. 5, Sunday. After we were done with consultations at John Hopkins on Oct. 8, I flew to Los Angeles and went to the Canadian mission there the next day.
I am always amazed at how governments often put difficult, rude, and often hostile, immigration officers in the front line of their consular offices. The Canadian office in L.A. was no exception. Or maybe he just doesn’t like Filipino passports?
The officer insisted that I did not have enough reason to leave Canada and return to the Philippines, even though I showed him cancelled visas on my passport to Schenggen, British, South Africa, Australia, China, Taiwan and many Southeast Asia countries. He refused to listen even when I reasoned out, “what if I can prove to you that I don’t even need to be employed?”
He replied: “We cannot evaluate those things here. You should apply at your point of origin, and that’s the Philippines.” I told him it takes only three hours for me to go to Vancouver from L.A., and three days (including the time change) from L.A. to Manila to Vancouver.
Our interview was going nowhere. He could not be persuaded. In the end I told him, “Your loss is my gain. You just saved me U.S.$500 (PhP25,000) in airfare to Canada and denied me a chance to do my Christian duty. My fare could have been my contribution to the failing U.S. economy.”
On my way back, I thought, “How Ed would have laughed at that experience.”
Two weeks after I got Ed’s email, his wife Ellen informed me that he passed away Oct. 29. It was too late for me to try again to see him.
I first met Ed in 1971 when I had just finished college and worked with Pagkakaisa Sa Pag-unlad (which became today’s Kaisa). The non-government organization was made up of idealistic Chinese-Filipinos; young academicians, professionals, businessmen. The main objective was to push or hasten the integration of Chinese Filipinos into mainstream society. It was the only one of its kind in the world, and the name of the organization spells out its objectives. Pagkakaisa’s (unity) main objective is to push integration, unity and coherence, regardless of race, religion, beliefs or traditions. It hopes to lessen ethnic conflict and racial discrimination in all forms. The Pag-unlad (progress) part was meant to push development and progress through projects and activities in depressed communities and to tap the potentials of the Chinese Filipinos in nation-building efforts.
Ed was very much a part of the organization.
He was really excited to see the organization and its objectives flourish. Among the founders was my late husband, Professor Chinben See, a good friend of Ed, who exchanged lengthy letters and hours in discussions and debates. They were bound by their common interest in research on the Philippine Chinese. Ed learned and was happy that his research output were not confined only to the academe and can have social impact. After all, the organization pushed research agenda not just for its sake but for it to have impact on government policy on the Chinese in the Philippines. He encouraged us in our lobby for the jus soli principle of citizenship at the 1971 Constitutional Convention.
Ed’s insight and advice were often sought when the organization started. We invited him for round-table discussions with members whenever he was in town.
Fast forward to 1997, Ed was really happy and excited when he learned that we had successfully realized our dream of putting up a heritage center as a repository of the historical and cultural legacy of the Chinese Filipinos in all aspects of Philippine life. When the Center opened in 1999, Ed’s name was included as one of the founding members because he donated money for the building of the three-story heritage center that includes an extensive library on Chinese overseas, a research and data bank, photo archives and Bahay Tsinoy – Museum of the Chinese in Philippine Life. He was the first to observe that it must be deliberate that we chose the walled city of Intramuros as the location for the Center.
“Where the Spaniards deliberately kept you out, you now conquered and reclaimed,” he quipped in good humour.
He regularly received our fortnightly Chinese-Filipino digest, Tulay (Bridge) and would often send comments on the articles he found there. He also sent us articles and essays we could put to good use for the digest. He was quite elated when his dream of a Canadian Chinese Historical Society saw fruition and sent us loads of materials on the new organization. When his seminal book, The Chinese in Philippine Life, 1850 to 1898 was re-published by the Ateneo de Manila University Press, he arranged for proceeds of the book’s sales to go to Kaisa. We used the money for postage whenever we needed to send him things. One time, a package we sent him was received after 18 months. He laughingly told us how the package appeared to have traveled all over the world because of the postal cancellations. Apparently, with the address University of British Columbia, the post office only saw Colombia and sent it to there, from where it was forwarded somewhere else before it landed up in Vancouver. We had such a laugh over the traveling the “lost” package must have had.
Five years ago, he started sorting through his research materials, a lot of which were kept at the University of British Columbia store room, in boxes. He started shipping most of these materials which he knew we could put into good use. Some of these included the archival materials from the Philippine National Archives and his research notes for his Ph.D. dissertation, which later became his book. Norbert Chingcuanco, our Chinese-Filipino friend in Vancouver, crated the boxes in his hardware strength plastic boxes and negotiated with Philippine Airlines to ship the research materials to us. Ed would always be amazed at how such “Chinese connections” worked.
Ed had known me for nearly 40 years and had been a part of all the ups and downs of my work with the Tsinoys (colloquial for Tsinong Pinoy or Chinese Filipinos). Even the coining of the word Tsinoy, and its wide acceptance in the Philippines, was to him a triumph indeed. He was always so meticulous in his work and one time, he voiced out a comment on a line in our organization’s credo: “Our blood may be Chinese but our roots grow deep in Filipino soil and our bonds are with the Filipino people.” He said the use of “may be” Chinese was too “apologetic” for we need not apologize for our Chinese blood.
That’s ED for us in Kaisa, the quintessential scholar and teacher. Now, every time we see his research materials and make use of them, we will remember him with fondness. With his passing, the first generation of researchers on the Chinese in the Philippines – Ed Wickberg, Charles McCarthy, Chinben See and Antonio Tan – have all passed on. We, their successors have a lot to live up to and will always treasure the pioneering work they (especially Ed) have done.
David Wong said...
Ed was a gentleman scholar, who loved life and loved his friends. Ed used to drop by my old office, and we’d go for lunch and I’d often ask him, how it was, that a white person developed such an infectious passion for Asian history. In particular, at a time when the world was a bit simpler and perhaps, a bit less progressive.
Ed would always give me his trademark chuckle and share with great energy, so much of his fascinating anecdotes.
I was never a student of Ed’s, and only got to know him well during our start up efforts for the CCHS in my old boardroom. I may as well have been a student of Ed’s… as I learned a lot about our Nation’s political system, and those of other Nation’s directly from Ed.
I know my friends and colleagues will miss Ed dearly.
I am forever grateful and fortunate to have met you Ed. Rest in peace, dear friend.
David
Friday, November 21, 2008
And Here’s To You, Ed
Most everything was said about and to Ed at his 80th Birthday gathering at the Ho Ho Restaurant over a year ago. Singularly, it was the most profoundly and appropriately fulfilling get-together for all of us who respect and honour him. That is how I would like to remember him, who made truly extraordinary contributions to his chosen interests and to all who wished to be a part of them. His contributions were not only in scholarship, for he was a living example of stoicism, integrity, honour and goodwill, who prevailed in everyday life.
I had always looked forward to the series of meetings with Ed on common interests. They were never “work”, but enjoyable learning experiences. He was always knowledgeable, gracious and welcoming to others’ participation.
Those of us who have shared time and issues with him will be forever grateful and inspired. Here on earth that is more than enough!
Thank you again, Ed, and thank you, Ellen, and your family for sharing Ed with all of us.
Joe Wai
I had always looked forward to the series of meetings with Ed on common interests. They were never “work”, but enjoyable learning experiences. He was always knowledgeable, gracious and welcoming to others’ participation.
Those of us who have shared time and issues with him will be forever grateful and inspired. Here on earth that is more than enough!
Thank you again, Ed, and thank you, Ellen, and your family for sharing Ed with all of us.
Joe Wai
From Wing Chung Ng
Ed's reputation of being tremendously supportive and generous is well-known across the profession. Back in the late 1980s when I broke news with friends that I would be attending UBC and working with Ed Wickberg, Michael Godley who taught in Australia at that time wrote to remind me how luck I was as "Ed Wickberg is the proverbial scholar AND gentleman" (emphasis original). Earlier I got a taste of that remarkable combination of Ed from the external examiner report he wrote on my M.Phil. thesis at Hong Kong University, full of keen observations and critical insights and yet delivered in an uplifting spirit of appreciation and seasoned with words of encouragement. As I learned through the years, that is so characteristic of Ed because that's the kind of person he was. On the one hand, he operated as a scholar with an unparalleled sense of responsibility to the field of knowledge he partook of; he was passionate about learning and tenacious when it comes to intellectual arguments. On the other hand, ever perceptive and sharp, Ed always communicated genuine respect, sensitivity, and care for the other person whether he or she was a student or a colleague.
These remarkable personal qualities of Ed come though clearly in his approach to scholarship that involves and invites collaboration with the community. Those in Vancouver can bear witness to his life-long commitment to foster the study and understanding of Chinese Canadian history on and off campus. I would add that Ed's devotion to the history of the Chinese in the Philippines, perhaps his "first love," was no less. Hence, he was reasonably proud when Ateneo de Manila University Press re-issued his classic THE CHINESE IN PHILIPPINE LIFE (2000) thirty-five years after its original publication by Yale University Press. I know our sense of loss is deeply felt by many across the Pacific whose lives have been touched by Ed.
Wing Chung Ng
San Antonio, TX
These remarkable personal qualities of Ed come though clearly in his approach to scholarship that involves and invites collaboration with the community. Those in Vancouver can bear witness to his life-long commitment to foster the study and understanding of Chinese Canadian history on and off campus. I would add that Ed's devotion to the history of the Chinese in the Philippines, perhaps his "first love," was no less. Hence, he was reasonably proud when Ateneo de Manila University Press re-issued his classic THE CHINESE IN PHILIPPINE LIFE (2000) thirty-five years after its original publication by Yale University Press. I know our sense of loss is deeply felt by many across the Pacific whose lives have been touched by Ed.
Wing Chung Ng
San Antonio, TX
Monday, November 17, 2008
In Memory of Ed Wickberg
My Top 10 Fondest Memories of Ed Wickberg,
by Hayne Wai November 2008
10. At a Chinese restaurant, as our Chinese speaking friend failed to join us, we realized that we would have to order by ourselves. So, with Ed’s written academic Chinese and my limited Cantonese, we ordered and the meal turned out fine.
9. Inviting us for coffee, Ed informed of his plans for a new Chinese Canadian historical society with a constitution, board of directors, research, education programs, funding, budgets, website, etc. I replied, “are you crazy, do you know how much work it’ll be!......and how can we help? And we both laughed and smiled.
8. When as secretary of the new CCHS, I submitted board minutes to president Ed, he returned them with corrections, just like a professor! I felt like an undergrad student all over again…and we shared many laughs over this.
7. When he asked that birds not be brought into CCHS board meetings,I paused; then realized he said “egos” and not “eagles”.
6. His courage in facing cancer and personal health challenges.
5. His loving devotion to his family.
4. His sharp mind and memory, always available to identify resources and provide encouragement on the study and research of Chinese Canadian history.
3. At our last meeting, I conveyed how much everyone deeply respected his leadership in forming CCHS; he replied how fortunate he was to have many dedicated and resourceful friends. I responded. “Ed, you’re being humbly Chinese again.” and we shared a good laugh together.
2. Ed’s, Ellen’s and everyone’s laughter as the Assaulted Fish comedy troupe interpreted Ed’s biography at the CCHS AGM 2007 dinner.
….and my fondest memory of Ed Wickberg….
1. …has yet to come, as his legacy will continue to grow within me and among the large community of friends who so valued his friendship and mentorship.
Allan Cho said...
Thanks Henry for sharing your touching thoughts and memories of Ed. I'd like to share some of my thoughts. I met Ed about seven years ago, when I had interviewed him for a Perspectives article on the History of Chinatown in Vancouver. Ed was so generous with his time and resources, as we waited for me in the lounge of the History Department, and then gave the interview in his emeritus office, which took more than an hour. We just talked history for that hour, and he opened my horizons about Chinese Canada. It was really Ed who had urged me to go into graduate studies in History, and at the time, told me "Go to Berkeley!" Two years later, Ed gave Perspectives Newspaper another interview about the Chinese Head Tax. all topics near and dear to Ed's heart. He gave a great deal to a clueless student whom he had barely known. And I'm forever grateful for the brief but memorable discussions and impressions he has given me.
Allan
Friday, November 14, 2008
From Henry Yu
Several weeks before Ed's passing, I was very lucky to have the chance to see him several times. It is a rare opportunity to be able to be able to compose thoughts and be able to share them with someone you care about deeply, and I am thankful, as I am sure Ed's family is, to have had that privilege. I found it difficult, however, to say in person many of the thoughts that ran through my mind, and so I wrote a message that I hoped would make clear the important impact that Ed had had on my life.
First and foremost was my deep admiration for the strength of mind and dignity that Ed and Ellen showed in the face of death, both of them, and the clarity about what life and death should mean at a moment like this. It was a source of inspiration to see both of them calm and accepting of what fate had wrought.
My other thoughts were on the deep legacy that Ed has created both personally for me and for a wide array of students and colleagues. As I sat later that night thinking back on the two decades I have known Ed, I realized how important a mentor he had been, from the earliest days when I was a student at UBC through graduate school and my book and then upon my return to Vancouver five years ago. It has always struck me that the greatest lesson that I learned from Ed was that when you treat a student as an equal partner in the pursuit of knowledge, that they become empowered to treat their own project with the seriousness of purpose that it requires and deserves. Never at a single moment, whether it was an undergraduate paper or a book chapter or describing over dinner what I had been finding in the archives during graduate school, never once did I ever feel that Ed did not think that what I was doing was just as important for our collective enterprise as what he was doing in his own research. This is perhaps more important a privilege than most people realize, and I can never thank Ed enough for the simple and yet all important act of treating me not as the student who needed to learn more in order to be worthy of respect, but with an abiding respect that inspired me to learn more because the knowledge pursued was worthy.
I also thought about how grateful I am that these last years I had the chance to work with Ed as a colleague and a friend, and to be a part of all that he has helped build that is so unique and such a reflection of him. To be involved in those meetings after meeting to found the Chinese Canadian Historical Society of British Columbia was to realize that without Ed's wisdom and experience and patience, it could not have been done, and that the balance and linkage between community and academia was the legacy of his own practices over these last decades. Without the goodwill that he had built over the years, CCHS could not have been the broad-based and broad-minded organization that it has become. Without his leadership, I cannot imagine that CCHS would exist, and nothing that I have been trying to do at UBC would be possible. The scholarship that bears his name that the CCHS endowed to honour his role in founding the organization may be a concrete legacy of all the hopes and aspirations that we hold, but the organization itself and the connections it makes in its everyday operation is a monument to the vision that Ed brought, and perhaps only Ed could have brought, to its founding and growth.
My thoughts those last few days also constantly dwelled on Ed's generousity. I am sure that his humility in this matter would prefer as little mention as possible, but I thought about it constantly as I wrote to other students that Ed had mentored about what debts of gratitude I felt I owed him for all that he had done for me, for the time and attention given to reading drafts, to the suggestions and questions he raised, for the introductions to colleagues and scholars whom he thought might help, for the sheer energy that he spent thinking about what would help me and others in our pursuits. I hope that all that time and energy he had given to help the work of others had not in even the smallest way been at the expense of his own, but now that I have students of my own and the demands on my time of scholarly reviews and manuscript reports and book evaluations, I realize more than ever what great service he gave to the development of the field of Overseas Chinese studies and Chinese Canadian studies, and beyond even my own debt of gratitude, I hope that Ed saw as I do that a great part of the legacy that he left will lie in the work of those he so generously helped along the way.
I had been thinking for almost five years now of organizing a festschrift, or some kind of essay collection honouring his impact on so many of us. I hesitated, both because I was not sure it was my place to initiate such a thing, but also because I feared that it would appear morbid or bespeak a premature anticipation of his passing. All of us are "Chinese" enough to abide by the superstition, or maybe just "injunction" that speaking of death is to be avoided, lest we curse our fate to come into being. I regret that I gave into that anxiety, since it would have been a festive gathering, I think, rather than the object of foreboding I feared. There are many former students who feel strongly that they owe Ed a debt of gratitude for his generousity over the years, and perhaps a gathering would have allowed them the chance to express it to him in some small measure. It is now too late, I regret terribly, for such a gathering to proceed in a way that he will be able to appreciate such sentiments. But with many of the messages that came to Ed in his final days, I know that he knew that many nonetheless hold such sentiments deeply.
With Ed's permission, we will still organize such a gathering for the summer of 2009, even if he will not enjoy its conviviality and conversation.
We will also be dedicating a forthcoming collection of essays, entitled Learning Chinese Canada, to Ed. In many ways, this volume expressed the broader scope of Ed life's work, tying community history and academic history and institution-building together, rather than just containing academic research. It also, like the CCHS bilingual publication of Finding Memories, Tracing Routes before it, contains the powerful message of Chinese and English sitting comfortably side by side that Ed believed in, rather than just being in English.
I had thought that we had more time before we would lose Ed, and the loss now seems unbearable.
Two weeks after his passing, it is even more clear to me what a hole in my life Ed's passing has left.
It is an honour to be able to say that Edgar Wickberg was my teacher, colleague, and friend.
Henry Yu
Associate Professor, Department of History, UBC
Acting Principal, St. John's College, UBC
First and foremost was my deep admiration for the strength of mind and dignity that Ed and Ellen showed in the face of death, both of them, and the clarity about what life and death should mean at a moment like this. It was a source of inspiration to see both of them calm and accepting of what fate had wrought.
My other thoughts were on the deep legacy that Ed has created both personally for me and for a wide array of students and colleagues. As I sat later that night thinking back on the two decades I have known Ed, I realized how important a mentor he had been, from the earliest days when I was a student at UBC through graduate school and my book and then upon my return to Vancouver five years ago. It has always struck me that the greatest lesson that I learned from Ed was that when you treat a student as an equal partner in the pursuit of knowledge, that they become empowered to treat their own project with the seriousness of purpose that it requires and deserves. Never at a single moment, whether it was an undergraduate paper or a book chapter or describing over dinner what I had been finding in the archives during graduate school, never once did I ever feel that Ed did not think that what I was doing was just as important for our collective enterprise as what he was doing in his own research. This is perhaps more important a privilege than most people realize, and I can never thank Ed enough for the simple and yet all important act of treating me not as the student who needed to learn more in order to be worthy of respect, but with an abiding respect that inspired me to learn more because the knowledge pursued was worthy.
I also thought about how grateful I am that these last years I had the chance to work with Ed as a colleague and a friend, and to be a part of all that he has helped build that is so unique and such a reflection of him. To be involved in those meetings after meeting to found the Chinese Canadian Historical Society of British Columbia was to realize that without Ed's wisdom and experience and patience, it could not have been done, and that the balance and linkage between community and academia was the legacy of his own practices over these last decades. Without the goodwill that he had built over the years, CCHS could not have been the broad-based and broad-minded organization that it has become. Without his leadership, I cannot imagine that CCHS would exist, and nothing that I have been trying to do at UBC would be possible. The scholarship that bears his name that the CCHS endowed to honour his role in founding the organization may be a concrete legacy of all the hopes and aspirations that we hold, but the organization itself and the connections it makes in its everyday operation is a monument to the vision that Ed brought, and perhaps only Ed could have brought, to its founding and growth.
My thoughts those last few days also constantly dwelled on Ed's generousity. I am sure that his humility in this matter would prefer as little mention as possible, but I thought about it constantly as I wrote to other students that Ed had mentored about what debts of gratitude I felt I owed him for all that he had done for me, for the time and attention given to reading drafts, to the suggestions and questions he raised, for the introductions to colleagues and scholars whom he thought might help, for the sheer energy that he spent thinking about what would help me and others in our pursuits. I hope that all that time and energy he had given to help the work of others had not in even the smallest way been at the expense of his own, but now that I have students of my own and the demands on my time of scholarly reviews and manuscript reports and book evaluations, I realize more than ever what great service he gave to the development of the field of Overseas Chinese studies and Chinese Canadian studies, and beyond even my own debt of gratitude, I hope that Ed saw as I do that a great part of the legacy that he left will lie in the work of those he so generously helped along the way.
I had been thinking for almost five years now of organizing a festschrift, or some kind of essay collection honouring his impact on so many of us. I hesitated, both because I was not sure it was my place to initiate such a thing, but also because I feared that it would appear morbid or bespeak a premature anticipation of his passing. All of us are "Chinese" enough to abide by the superstition, or maybe just "injunction" that speaking of death is to be avoided, lest we curse our fate to come into being. I regret that I gave into that anxiety, since it would have been a festive gathering, I think, rather than the object of foreboding I feared. There are many former students who feel strongly that they owe Ed a debt of gratitude for his generousity over the years, and perhaps a gathering would have allowed them the chance to express it to him in some small measure. It is now too late, I regret terribly, for such a gathering to proceed in a way that he will be able to appreciate such sentiments. But with many of the messages that came to Ed in his final days, I know that he knew that many nonetheless hold such sentiments deeply.
With Ed's permission, we will still organize such a gathering for the summer of 2009, even if he will not enjoy its conviviality and conversation.
We will also be dedicating a forthcoming collection of essays, entitled Learning Chinese Canada, to Ed. In many ways, this volume expressed the broader scope of Ed life's work, tying community history and academic history and institution-building together, rather than just containing academic research. It also, like the CCHS bilingual publication of Finding Memories, Tracing Routes before it, contains the powerful message of Chinese and English sitting comfortably side by side that Ed believed in, rather than just being in English.
I had thought that we had more time before we would lose Ed, and the loss now seems unbearable.
Two weeks after his passing, it is even more clear to me what a hole in my life Ed's passing has left.
It is an honour to be able to say that Edgar Wickberg was my teacher, colleague, and friend.
Henry Yu
Associate Professor, Department of History, UBC
Acting Principal, St. John's College, UBC
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