It's the new Yellow Peril. Consciously or subconsciously, a lot of people are blaming Canadians who look Chinese for the Toronto outbreak of severe acute respiratory syndrome.
Some media describe a "Chinese immigrant family" who "brought" SARS back to Canada. But the original SARS family aren't immigrants. They're Canadian. I said this aloud the other day, and a colleague asked, "When does someone stop being an immigrant?"
A good question for people in the labelling business. Here's the answer: You stop being an immigrant when you become a citizen.
The Tse family didn't "bring" the pathogen back in their hand luggage. The mother was unwittingly infected in a Hong Kong hotel. Five more family members contracted SARS, one after trying to save her with mouth-to-mouth resuscitation (as recommended by the 911 operator).
The fatality rate for SARS is 4 per cent. In the Tse family, it was 33 per cent. Two died, including the father of a five-month-old baby.
The Tse family were the unfortunate canaries in our coal mine. Their sheer numbers alerted medical workers, who might have paid less attention to an episodic case of atypical pneumonia.
In the midst of grief and illness, the family released the names of the mother and son who died. No other victims' families have. "We wanted to save lives," said the daughter, who herself spent two weeks in intensive care.
Her husband is the only adult who didn't catch SARS. He's volunteered to undergo blood tests to help scientists understand why some people are immune.
Newspapers avoid revealing ethnicity. We generally won't say, for instance, if a murder suspect is black. (We might hypocritically drop a clue: "The suspect was previously twice deported to Jamaica.")
For Chinese Canadians, their names are a giveaway. And because we know the names of the first two fatalities, that bit of information has led to absurd behaviour.
A kindly volunteer at Scarborough Grace Hospital didn't quarantine herself at first. She thought only Chinese could get SARS.
Less kindly, Acadia University in Wolfville, N.S., has banished six students from mainland China for 10 days. One is languishing in Halifax. The others are en route and won't be welcome when they arrive.
Sheri Woodland, a university spokeswoman, acknowledged that the students weren't being screened; they were being banned outright. Citing the Health Canada advisory, she said the university's policy covered anyone who had been to the "hotspots": China, Vietnam, Hong Kong and Singapore. But Health Canada hasn't demanded a blanket quarantine of arrivals. In Halifax, the regional medical officer of health called the university's policy "a little over the top."
On a per capita basis, after all, Toronto is probably the hottest spot on Earth right now. Is Acadia also banning Torontonians? Ms. Woodland said Torontonians were acceptable.
You can't just point the finger at Acadia. Before SARS pierced the consciousness of other Canadians, Chinese Canadians were already avoiding the Ruby Restaurant. An Internet rumour had suggested, erroneously, that one of its chefs had SARS.
The owners fought back with interviews, health inspections and newspaper ads. But when I took my family there that first depressing weekend, there were only four other parties having Sunday dinner.
A dim-sum palace is the last place to catch SARS. They're deserted these days. A hospital is a better bet. Indeed, more than 80 per cent of Ontario's nearly 200 SARS patients can be traced to Scarborough Grace Hospital. And the last time I checked, that hospital served all Canadians.
Given the backlash, a little racial profiling would help. But just try to pry out information. Health authorities sometimes give the gender and age of SARS victims, but not names or ethnicity.
In this case, public health should trump privacy concerns. This way, anyone who came into contact with a victim will be alerted — not just the names the bereaved family can remember.
I understand how scary SARS is. I was nervous going into the daughter's home on her first day of post-quarantine freedom. When her husband offered me something to drink, I'm ashamed to admit I declined.
Inside my bag, I had two N-95 masks, the kind that filter viruses. I brought one for her and one for me. I never used them, but I wanted to.
At noon, over noodles in a half-deserted Vietnamese restaurant, the daughter asked me to lower my voice. "I don't want people to hear. They're gonna kill me."
It was very brave of her to discuss her family's ordeal.
"Other people who experienced it should talk, too, not just the Chinese," she said. "So people know that it's not just Chinese."
Of course, she means Canadians who look Chinese.
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