I stumbled upon the paper trail to the 1923 Chinese Exclusion Act1 quite by accident.
Over a decade ago, I volunteered to interview some of the remaining Chinese Canadian Second World War veterans. The service of these soldiers was particularly remarkable due to their second-class status in Canada at the time. I’d begin each interview with the question: “Where were you born?” Invariably, the answer was Vancouver, Victoria, Cumberland, etc., all places in Canada. Later in the interview, as the veterans opened their photo albums and boxes, many would show me a small, beige card labelled “C.I.45.”
I was drawn immediately to the photo on the front of the card, showing the veteran as a young child or even an infant. Some photos were of a wide-eyed kid sitting or standing ramrod straight. Others clung to a favourite toy and sported a toothy grin. In a few photos, the child was so young that I could spot the mother’s hands holding the baby up to the camera.
Then I noticed the rest of this document. Across the top of these certificates were the words, in all caps: DEPARTMENT OF IMMIGRATION AND COLONIZATION. And along the bottom read the statement: “This certificate does not establish legal status in Canada.”
I was confused. Why would a Canadian-born person, and one who had served in the Second World War no less, have an immigration card? I soon learned that this innocent-looking piece of paper was documentary evidence of a dark period in Canadian history that has mostly been forgotten.
Exclusion and excessive documentation
In the annals of Canadian migration history, the Chinese hold a
