I was raised on the streets of Chinatown!On summer nights, after sewing and cooking, mothers conversed on stoops, while fathers worked at restaurants.The group of women workers, we are very powerful.We want a community center, not a stinky parking garage.A messenger in the community.One day, I saw an elderly woman squatting outside the barbed wire fence of our yard, happily counting my melons.The only Chinese printer in Boston.Chinese parents are united.The first day he landed in America, he found a job at China Pearl.In Syrian Town, everybody was Auntie.