Vietnamese activists look past nails, floors

Tram Vu's older sister does nails. Her friends do nails. Her cousin's in-laws do nails.

So it was natural that Vu, 28, a Vietnamese immigrant, would end up doing nails as well. Eight years after relatives gave Vu her first salon job, she owns her own shop. She makes a decent living, works hours she likes, and employs three Vietnamese manicurists.

Hers is a classic immigrant success story. It is also a story that concerns Vietnamese community leaders.

The success of Vietnamese immigrants in the nail salons in Massachusetts has brought a flood of new arrivals into the industry. But some are trying to stanch the flow, worried by the large numbers of immigrants in both nail salons and in the floor-sanding industry, which is dominated in some areas by Vietnamese men. Competition among Vietnamese-run businesses is driving prices down, and with them, wages. And both nail salons and floor-sanding businesses use chemicals that advocates say pose serious health risks.

So community activists are trying to encourage Vietnamese immigrants to try other kinds of work. And they are trying to persuade those who stay in the industries to improve safety.

''They're over-saturated in those industries," said Kim Tang, senior economic development coordinator at Viet-AID, the community center that serves Fields Corner in Dorchester, which is home to a large Vietnamese population. ''We know nails and floors are very dangerous. If we can't stop them from getting into [those jobs] we want them to learn safer practices."

But the factors that attract Vietnamese immigrants to nail salons and floors in the first place make it harder for them to leave, or to change their methods.

''It's a pretty big challenge," said Tam Doan, who has managed a study of nail and floor-sanding chemicals and Vietnamese immigrants being conducted by New Ecology, an environmental nonprofit organization, Viet-AID, and the University of Massachusetts at Lowell. ''When you're in a situation where you have very few assets, your immediate needs come first, and those needs will always trump all these other things we're trying to convince people they should consider -- their long-term health, getting better skills, moving out of the industries."

Vietnamese manicurists hold about 40 percent of licenses nationally, according to Nails Magazine, a trade publication. Doan estimates one in four Vietnamese workers in the state hold jobs in nail salons. Of the 319 licensed Boston manicurists listed on a state Division of Professional Licensure Web page, about half have common Vietnamese surnames.

Immigrant groups often gravitate toward certain industries: Ethiopians pour into Boston parking garages; Haitians flock to local nursing homes.

Among the Vietnamese, established manicurists have given newer arrivals guidance and jobs in workplaces where English is not a requirement. Vietnamese women (and some men) have flocked to training schools, buffed and polished for American bosses, opened their own salons, cut prices, and branched out into supply companies and beauty schools. In some neighborhoods, fiercely competitive salons located within steps of each other offer acrylic nails and French polishes. Prices continue to drop. A full set of acrylic nails cost $40 until a few years ago. Now some salons in Dorchester and Quincy offer them for as little as $18.

''We just kill each other," Tang said of the competition among Vietnamese manicurists.

Tang is general manager of Win-Win Cleaning Inc., a program that encourages Vietnamese immigrants to start their own cleaning companies, offering them assisted self-employment, a new niche, and safer work. The Win-Win co-op currently has $243,000 in annual contracts, Tang said, with eight proprietors who employ Vietnamese workers from their networks the way salon owners and floor sanders do.

But cleaning is a hard sell for some. It does not pay as much, or as quickly, as nails or floors, Tang said. And although Win-Win cleaners have independence and flexibility, like workers in those other industries, they must pay income and Social Security taxes and insurance. Manicurists are sometimes paid in cash. Tang tries to convince Vietnamese immigrants that the cleaning industry gives them better long-term benefits.

Thanh Dang, 57, had no choice. When she arrived in the United States from Saigon with her husband, Bay Vo, in 2001, she shucked oysters in Mississippi. But work was not easy to find, and her family moved to Boston for better opportunities, she said, speaking through a translator.

Her daughter went to Cali For Nails Academy, the Dorchester manicure school where a four-week, full-time course costs $750 and classes are given in Vietnamese, and she took a chair at a local nail salon. Dang paid $750 for classes, too, but after her training was done, she couldn't find a job.

''Nobody would hire me," she said. ''They said I was too old."

So she and Vo signed up with Win-Win Cleaning. Now they work Monday to Friday cleaning houses in Dorchester, and Sundays cleaning a Mattapan community center. They make about $2,500 a month between them. They hope to add more contracts and employees soon. Still, the woman whose story is the example Tang hopes others will follow expresses ambivalence about her choice.

''I'd rather be doing nails," she said.

Tram Vu would not do anything but nails.

''It is flexible, and it's easier money, and you don't have to speak a lot of English," said Vu, who worked in office jobs for a couple of years before becoming a manicurist. Vu also learned the trade at Cali For Nails Academy. Manicurists can make $500 a week in the summer and $300 to $400 a week in the winter, after salon owners take 40 to 50 percent of their fees.

It is much easier work than she could be doing, she said. The chemicals used to build acrylic nails get to her sometimes, but she tries to keep her salon well-ventilated, Vu said. ''I've been to many places and they barely have windows and their door is always shut. The minute I walk in, I feel sick."

Viet-AID and other community organizations are particularly concerned about those chemicals. In Doan's survey, nail and floor workers complained of rashes, respiratory problems, and acne. Manicurists breathe in dust from nail filing and pungent odors from acetone polish removers and acrylics, and health officials believe that some chemicals occasionally used in those products may cause cancer.

There are few safe nail products on the market, Doan said. And even if they were widely available, it would be tough to get salon owners to switch to them and risk giving the competition an edge, because they are more expensive.

''There's going to be a big challenge around introducing the products, even if we can find them," Doan said. ''Salon owners say, 'My clients always ask for the same color and the same brand, and I don't know if they're going to go for this. Because your products cost more, I can't risk that margin.' "

Vu confirms that many of her clients like their usual colors and brands. ''Americans, when they like something, they just stick with it," she said.

Vu cannot afford to take big risks with her products. There is another salon a few blocks away from Vu's Nail Box. Her immediate needs trump the long-term benefits of safer products.

''I hear people within the Vietnamese community say we're so short-sighted, we just want money right away, so we gravitate toward this business which is fast cash. We should be thinking more long term, think bigger," Doan said.

''Critics within the community say this won't change any time soon. But as this group gains more grounding and more income, and some people move into the middle class, I think change will happen."

Yvonne Abraham can be reached at abraham@globe.com.