Canadian Heroines, Part 3 of 3: Muriel Kitagawa

Born in Vancouver in 1912, Muriel Kitagawa was the eldest child of Tsuru and Asajiro Fujiwara, Japanese immigrants. Moving frequently, the family struggled to make ends meet despite her father working in a mill and her mother making dresses. When Muriel was ten, the family split for several years, reuniting in 1924.

Showing an aptitude for writing and always troubled by the racial discrimination around her, Muriel received encouragement from her English teacher to develop her writing around that theme. She graduated second highest in New Westminster’s Duke of Connaught High School’s Class of 1929. From there, she studied one year at the University of British Columbia before financial problems made enrollment no longer possible.

 

As part of the Nisei (second-generation or Canadian-born Japanese), Muriel’s writing talents became important in activism as she fought for the right to vote for herself and her peers. Many professions were open only to voters, which led to economic discrimination.

 

In the early 1930s, Muriel wrote for The Young People (the journal of the Young People’s Society of the United Church), The New Age (an English-language newspaper founded by and for Nisei), and for The New Canadian paper.

 

In 1933, Muriel married Ed Kitagawa, a celebrity in the local Japanese Canadian community due to his fame with the Asahi baseball team. Professionally, Ed served Japanese Canadian clients at the Bank of Montreal. Between 1934 and 1942, four children were born. In 1940, the Kitagawas purchased their own house in Vancouver, a significant achievement among their peers.

 

Muriel became president of the Japanese Canadian Unit of the Red Cross Society, withdrawing in 1941 because of a difficult pregnancy with twins. During that same pregnancy, Canada declared war on Japan following Japan’s surprise attacks on Pearl Harbor, Hong Kong, and the Philippines. All of this threw the Japanese Canadian community into turmoil. Muriel began documenting her experiences and observations in letters to her younger brother, Wes Fujiwara, a medical student in Toronto. The letters detailed concerns over her family’s arrangements, as well as the attempts of their broader community to organize and advocate for themselves after the government forced removal of Japanese Canadians from coastal British Columbia. 

 

Rev. James Finlay, a connection of Wes’s, offered the Kitagawas board in his home, which helped the family relocate to Toronto and stay together while the federal government sent many of their peers to internment camps and farms. In 1943, the government began to sell Japanese Canadian-owned property, including the Kitagawas’ Vancouver home, without the consent of owners. When Japanese Canadians were finally allowed to return to BC in 1947, the Kitagawas had nothing to return to and remained in Toronto.

 

Muriel Kitigawa died in 1974, never knowing that her letters to her brother would be published in a book called This is My Own: Letters to Wes & Other Writings on Japanese Canadians, 1941-1948, or that her work would inspire the novel Obasan by Joy Kogawa, or that these books would play an integral role in the redress for Japanese Canadians in 1988. On the twentieth anniversary of that event in 2008, the late former Prime Minister Brian Mulroney quoted Muriel and said, “For her life, and the lives of other Japanese Canadians in wartime, Canada can be grateful.”

Muriel Kitigawa

Have you ever been tempted to exploit another human for your own benefit? An immigrant, a child, a person with fewer resources than you? Jesus made it clear that he despises injustice. Ask him to open your eyes to it and be swift to overturn wrongs. Don’t wait.

Canadian Heroines, Part 2 of 3: Chief Elsie Knott

Have you heard of the “Change the Bill” Campaign? An initiative of the Native Women’s Association of Canada (NWAC), the campaign calls for an Indigenous woman to replace Queen Elizabeth II on the $20 bill. Begun before the Queen’s passing, the campaign seeks to foster reconciliation by commissioning Indigenous artists to reimagine the banknote with notable Indigenous women.

Although our current $20 note will continue to circulate for years, the Bank of Canada has already begun the design process for a new bill featuring King Charles III (whose effigy is already circulating on loonies). It will likely be years before it’s issued. Where does this leave the “Change the Bill” campaign? I’m not sure, but I would certainly vote for it, given the chance. Canada has been printing money for over 150 years. In that time, an Indigenous woman has never been featured on a Canadian bank note. Why not make our twenty something truly and uniquely Canadian?

Among the twelve notable women put forth as candidates is Chief Elsie Knott.

Born to George and Esther Taylor on September 20, 1922, Elsie Taylor grew up in a family of seven on Mud Lake Reserve northwest of Peterborough, Ontario. She spoke only Ojibway when she began Grade One at the school run by the Department of Indian Affairs. Here, students caught “talking Indian” had their names placed on the chalkboard beside a giant X. Naturally, the situation laid the ground for a deep-seated fear of public speaking.

Elsie completed Grade Eight at age 14. At 15, her parents had arranged for her to marry a man from the reserve, 27-year-old Cecil Knott. “Nobody ever talked to me about a career,” she said. “Women just got married.”

By age 20, Elsie had three children and a husband too ill from TB to work. Welfare provided $15 a month. Desperate and industrious, Elsie did all she could to improve living conditions for her children—including berry-picking, cooking, laundry, sewing, cleaning, selling bait, and driving school bus.

The latter enterprise led to a deep concern for the community at large, particularly for getting kids to school. When a 1951 amendment to the Indian Act allowed women to become officially involved in band politics, Elsie ran for chief at age 31. Her landslide win made her the first female Indigenous chief in Canada, leading the way for other First Nations women to become more politically active. First, she’d need to overcome her biggest fear.

Success in that area would come gradually as Elsie served as Chief of the 500 Mississaugas of Mud Lake Indian Band (now known as Curve Lake First Nation), first from 1952 to 1962 and then again from 1970 to 1976. For eight years, she didn’t receive a salary because band funds were so small. Yet during her terms in office, the band built 45 homes, upgraded roads, dug new wells, constructed a daycare, and provided more social services. Elsie and her council revived the powwow by opening it to outsiders and using the profits for Christmas hampers. The little girl who hadn’t been allowed to speak her own language now taught Ojibway classes and translated 14 Christmas carols into Ojibway. She organized Girl Guides, Boy Scouts, baseball teams and more. She brought back traditional drumming and singing.

Chief Elsie Knott in 1973

When five of the students on her reserve wanted to attend high school, Elsie drove them in her Ford. When their numbers grew, she purchased a used hearse. She painted it blue and put benches inside. Eventually, she drove a school bus for 34 years and ended up with two large buses and 130 students. One of those students became Judge Tim Whetung, who publicly thanked Elsie not only for driving him to school but for inspiring many young people to follow their dreams.

In 1975, Elsie was named one of 25 outstanding women in Ontario. A committed believer in Jesus, her most treasured work was fundraising for a new church. Elsie Knott died on December 3, 1995, at the age of 73.

Canadian Heroines, Part 1 of 3: Harriet Rhue Hatchett

March 8 is International Women’s Day. In 2022, I began writing a series of posts on Canadian Heroines and they’ve been some of my most popular. This year, I’ve chosen three more Canadian women to inspire you.

In the middle of the American Civil War, a baby girl was born to two fugitive slaves who had escaped to Canada via the Underground Railroad. William Isaac Rhue had fled the Miles plantation in Virginia and had met Jane Serena Lewis of Kentucky in their travels. Together, they settled at Buxton, Ontario where their daughter, Harriet (Hattie) was born in 1863 and where they would raise another fifteen children as well. Their faith-filled home was abundant in music and musical instruments.

Hattie attended a one-room school near the Rhue farm and took piano lessons at the Elgin Settlement School. At 17, she graduated from Chatham Collegiate Institute.

By 1881, the need for teachers for former slaves in the southern United States was great. Encouraged by her pastor and her mother, 18-year-old Hattie traveled to Kentucky where she taught children and adults to read and write. Among her students was a man named Millard Hatchett, whom she married in 1892. Hattie continued teaching as three daughters and one son were born to them. In 1904, the family returned to North Buxton.

Tragically, all three of their daughters became ill and died. Grief-stricken, Hattie turned to her music and her faith for consolation. Although she’d obtained a music-teaching certificate, she could not find work, due to racism and sexism. Teaching jobs were closed to married women. Despite not being hired as an organist in a white church, Hattie organized a choir for white churches. She also gave free music lessons out of her home and became much sought after in helping students prepare for recitals and music competitions.

Harriet Rhue Hatchett

Over the years, Hattie composed many original songs and became a popular performer for church, conferences, and community events. Her eclectic repertoire included classical, popular, spirituals, hymns, and children’s songs. Sadly, most of her compositions were lost in various fires over the years.

She did copyright three songs: two hymns called “Jesus, Tender Shepherd Lead Us” and “That Land Beyond the Sky,” and one song that would become increasingly popular as it was written specifically for Canadian soldiers during World War I. “That Sacred Spot” from 1915 was chosen by Canon Frederick G. Scott, senior chaplain of the 1^st Canadian Division and a poet himself, as the official marching song of the troops. It made the soldiers think of home. Its title refers to the spot where a soldier might die as being sacred to God. The song was born out of the pain of Hattie’s own grief for her deceased children. For a number of years, it was sung by school children on Remembrance Day.

In foreign fields apart or in a row

There lies a soldier’s lonely grave so low.

Tremendous cost wherever it may be

Keep that Sacred Spot in living memory.

Though many soldiers knew the song well, its origins remained unknown to most. That such an important piece of music was composed by a Black woman is a significant piece of Canadian history worth remembering.

Hattie Rhue Hatchett outlived her children and her husband, dying at the age of 94 in 1958.

Canadian Heroines, Part 5: Marie Marguerite Rose

If you’ve ever held the notion that Canada’s history does not include slavery, it’s time to rethink that notion. Slavery was legal in Canada until 1834 when it was outlawed throughout the British Empire. While it’s true that many black slaves from the American south sought freedom in Canada in the years leading up to the Civil War, an estimated population of 1,375 Black slaves existed in Canada during the French Regime in the 1700s. Among them was Marie Marguerite Rose.

We don’t even know her original name. Captured by slave traders in Guinea at the age of 19, Marie was transported across the Atlantic to Louisbourg, Nova Scotia. Naval officer Jean Loppinot purchased her in 1736, selected her name, and had her baptized into the Catholic faith. It’s possible she was branded with a hot iron, in keeping with the custom.

Marie would have been expected to work every day except Sunday in the family home. She cooked all meals, washed clothes, and scrubbed floors. Since slave masters could use their slaves in any way they wished, it was not uncommon for the master to rape them, thereby siring more slaves. This may or may not have been the case for Marie. She gave birth to a son, Jean-Francois, who automatically became a slave in the household even though his paternity is unknown. Sadly, her son died at the age of 13.

Marie served as a slave for 19 years before her release. How this came about is not recorded. Perhaps she was purchased by the man who later married her—Jean Baptiste Laurent. This mixed marriage to Laurent, a Mi’kmaw, is part of what makes Marie’s story remarkable. Not only would the union have been nearly unheard of at the time, but the resulting business proved especially notable. Marie and Laurent rented a building where they lived and ran a tavern—right next door to her former owner. Most of their clientele lived in the Fortress of Louisbourg.

Before her fortieth birthday and after only two years of freedom, Marie died. She never bore any other children. It was noted that she left behind a thriving vegetable garden.

Why did the Historic Sites and Monuments Board of Canada select Marie as a national historic person in 2008? Because, as an illiterate slave, she achieved three things that were next to impossible: she managed to secure her freedom, she married an Indigenous man, and she owned and operated a business. I can’t help thinking she must have possessed uncommon fortitude and intelligence.

If you ever visit the Fortress of Louisbourg, the largest reconstructed eighteenth-century French fortified town in North America, you’ll see the gravestone of Marie Marguerite Rose. Wouldn’t you love to learn of her origins in Guinea and how she lived the first nineteen years of her life?

Slavery is repulsive and still goes on. I’m grateful for anti-human-trafficking organizations we can support, like Defend Dignity, the Joy Smith Foundation, and International Justice Mission. (You can double your impact to help bring freedom to trafficked women and girls with a gift to IJM before March 31. It will be matched, dollar for dollar.)

Sometimes equally debilitating is the slavery we impose upon ourselves when we become addicted to unhealthy practices. When we believe we’re hopeless to overcome. When our possessions own us instead of the other way around. When we resign ourselves to failure. In his letter to the Galatians, Paul said, “It is for freedom that Christ has set us free. Stand firm, then, and do not let yourselves be burdened again by a yoke of slavery.”

Canadian Heroines, Part 3: Victoria Cheung

If I asked you to name the first Chinese Canadian (male or female) to graduate as a doctor in Canada, could you? How about if I asked you to name the only Canadian missionary to have worked in China throughout the Japanese invasion, World War II, and the Communist revolution? Hint: it’s the same person. Don’t feel bad, I couldn’t have named her either.

Victoria Toy Mea Cheung was born in Victoria, BC in 1897, the same year as Queen Victoria’s Diamond Jubilee. Cheung was born during a time when Canada did not welcome the Chinese, when the only people forced to pay a head tax were immigrants from China. Did her parents name her Victoria in hopes that she would be better accepted by the dominant white society?

Victoria’s father, Sing Noon Cheung, had immigrated from his South China village, lured by the Canadian Pacific Railway to help build the transcontinental railway. After the final spike was driven in 1885, he began a small business in Victoria and saved enough money to bring his wife to Canada. He was one of the first Chinese converts to Christianity in the city. His wife, Yin Han, a highly educated woman, had become a Christian in China.

At age five, Victoria attended kindergarten at the Oriental Home run by the Women’s Missionary Society. Originally a place of refuge for at-risk girls and women of Asian descent, the Chinese Rescue Home had become a segregated school offering a public school curriculum, evangelical teachings, and lessons in the domestic arts. Enrolled as a boarder, Victoria could visit her family at home only a few blocks away.

A popular and smart girl, Victoria taught Sunday school, participated in girls’ groups, and resolved to become a medical missionary to China. The idea was preposterous in British Columbia, where provincial legislation prohibited Chinese people from entering professions. Being Chinese wasn’t Victoria’s only hurdle. The University of Toronto was the only medical school accepting female students. Thanks to a full university scholarship from the Presbyterian Women’s Missionary Society, Victoria joined the medical school there in 1917. When she graduated in 1922, she was one of only 14 women in a class of 79 graduates.

After interning at Toronto General, Victoria joined the South China Mission, taking charge of a hospital in Kongmoon and serving as both a skilled surgeon and an efficient administrator. Despite political upheavals that forced most other Canadian doctors and missionaries to return to Canada, Victoria stayed for 43 years. As a Canadian, she traveled with a British passport. But somehow her name was not included in the British consulate’s list of female missionaries in China, a list used in times of crisis for emergency evacuations. Some speculate that, since “Canadian women were white,” and since “doctors were male,” and since “missionaries were, by definition, of European heritage,” Victoria Cheung could not possibly have been all three. Whatever the reason, this oversight worked in her favor during the Japanese occupation. Victoria kept her Canadian citizenship hidden, preferring to pass as a Chinese national so that she could stay and continue her work.

Victoria Cheung continued to serve through war, invasion, and the communist takeover that made her Christian faith illegal. Any connections to Canada or the west had to be kept strictly hidden. Her patients included residents of four refugee camps where she vaccinated against or treated smallpox, cholera, malaria, dysentery, and typhus. Times proved so bad at one point that a starving mother tried to sell her two daughters to Dr. Cheung.

Victoria Cheung stayed in China until her death in 1966 at the age of 69. For more on this remarkable woman, read A Woman In Between: Searching for Dr. Victoria Cheung, by John Price and Ningping Yu.