Need Chinatown residents to vote for you? Want to build support for a new development? Trying to get your restaurant license sorted out? For four decades, getting things done in Chinatown meant going through Frank "Uncle Frank" Chin and his brother Billy, the patriarchs and all-around fixers who controlled almost everything that happened in a corner of the city that was a mystery to most outsiders.
People still buzz at the front door of Uncle Frank Chin's tchotchke-filled Cathay Corner gift store on Beach Street, asking him for things.
But these days, they go to other places, too. The power brokers in Chinatown are more numerous now, and the Chin brothers no longer have quite the old-time, ward bosses' grip they once had on the neighborhood.
The Chinese Progressive Association, the Asian Community Development Corporation, and other groups have eroded some of the Chins' control by registering voters, organizing against developers, and helping residents navigate bureaucracy.
Their ascendancy reflects a larger shift in Chinatown. For years, the Chins mediated the neighborhood's political power, delivering blocs of voters in return for city services. More recently, other groups have focused on educating voters to make their own decisions and to speak up for themselves. Now, politicians have to work Chinatown the way they might work South Boston and West Roxbury, courting individual voters, rather than going to a couple of key brokers.
"At one point it was all Frank, but now it's a contested thing," said Avi Green, executive director of the voting rights group MassVOTE. "Now, you have all of these organizations that are powerful within the community. The bottom line is, the clout of the whole community is expanding."
The Chinese Progressive Association, which began as a group of much-criticized student activists shaking things up in the neighborhood, turns 30 this month. It started in the wake of the civil rights movement with English and citizenship classes, but quickly moved into activism, leading battles against development in Chinatown, beginning with opposition to the expansion of New England Medical Center in the 1970s. The association fought for programs to retrain Chinese garment workers who had been made redundant and protested police brutality against Chinese Americans.
The group also advocated normalized relations with China, fueling speculation among local business owners and longtime residents that its leaders were communists.
"My own father called me a communist," said Suzanne Lee, a founding member of the association who still chairs its board. "When we first started, a lot of elders would go to my father and say, 'Couldn't you control your daughter for her not to be doing things in Chinatown?' And my father would get really embarrassed."
Gradually, however, even Lee's father came around, sending friends to his daughter's organization for help with letters they could not read and bureaucracies they could not fathom. The association, which began with an all- volunteer staff, has eight paid employees today.
Now, association officials have political heft to match that of the Chins . A measure of the neighborhood's new political diversity could be seen in last month's special election to replace the late city councilor, James Kelly: The Chin brothers backed the ultimate winner, Bill Linehan. But in Chinatown, Linehan narrowly lost out to Susan Passoni, supported by Lydia Lowe, director of the Chinese Progressive Association.
Having more power brokers in Chinatown has opened up the neighborhood and made it more accessible to political candidates as the small enclave's voting clout has grown, through efforts to mobilize voters. Since 1998, the number of Chinatown voters has doubled, and 2,500 residents cast ballots in the gubernatorial race of 2006, according to Green.
Chinatown has come a long way since the Chins started organizing voters in 1970. Even though Chinese immigrants had been coming to Boston since the 1850s, restrictive immigration rules made it difficult for them to put down roots and start families here. Few Chinatown residents had a stake in politics before the Chins became active, and few politicians came calling.
"Back then, not too many people paid attention to Chinatown," said Frank Chin, 75, seated on a wooden bench in the back of his store on a recent afternoon, surrounded by ceramic dragons and Confucius figures. "I looked at all the voter lists, and there were only 300 registered Chinese voters. And so we realized: You have to have votes. You don't have votes; you don't have clout."
He and his brother knocked on doors all over Chinatown, urging people to register. By 1978, Chin said, they had swelled Chinatown rolls to 3,600. "Then people paid attention," Chin said, grinning.
The brothers Chin -- Billy is 77 -- built up a lot of personal capital to put behind their political efforts, with an empire of restaurants and properties and scores of workers. They had connections, too: Billy served in the military with William M. Bulger, who would eventually become a powerful Senate president. Frank made firm friends of city councilors and mayors grateful for his mobilization efforts. He was hired by Mayor Kevin White in the early 1970s and worked as a purchasing officer in City Hall for 22 years.
The brothers delivered votes to City Hall. And City Hall opened up to Chinatown. The Chins' efforts got the Chinatown gate constructed and helped build community centers and housing for seniors.
"People in those days had confidence in us," he said. "They believed we were doing what was right for them."
The Chinese Progressive Association had a different model for mobilizing voters, trying to turn them into activists, rather than acting on their behalf or guiding their votes in return for constituent services. They aimed to rock boats.
"People felt that because it wasn't their country, they should not make waves," said Lowe. "But we said: 'We have to challenge things. We have to do more than just keep our heads down and work hard.' "
The association is a thorn in the city's side: Its efforts led to a Department of Justice lawsuit alleging that the city compromised the rights of bilingual voters in 2003 and 2004. The association said that some members of the community allied with the Chin brothers had improperly influenced Chinese immigrant voters at the ballot. And it has opposed many attempts to develop property in Chinatown. The association routinely helps workers organize for better working conditions or against landlords.
"We're still seen as rabble rousers," Lowe said.
But while Frank Chin may no longer be the only game in Chinatown, he is still in hot demand. He delivered plenty of votes for Linehan, and he has remained as vital to getting Chinatown voters to polling booths as the Chinatown Progressive Association and other organizations. Most recently, he formed a local crime watch and safety patrol group after a spate of attacks on residents. And he still owes a lot of favors.
"I have been back here 58 years," he said. "We have a lot of friends. We asked a lot of people for help, and then you ask people to vote for people. So when people come to you, you say no? You can't do that."
He is toying, halfheartedly, with the idea of retirement. There is a "For Rent" sign in the window at Cathay Corner.
"People say, 'Where are we going to look for you?' " said his wife, Kay, on a recent afternoon. "I say, 'Don't look anymore!' "
Yvonne Abraham can be reached at abraham@globe.com. ![]()
