By Lucy Yan

Around the stately chambers of Philadelphia City Council, two-thirds of the attendees were ready for battle. They donned matching red shirts that read, “We talkin’ ‘bout billionaires,” in stark white font across the back. Tucked in a corner stood the opposition: A conclave of mostly men – a few in neon construction vests – huddled, conferring. Moments later, the two sides erupted in taunts.

“Hey, hey, ho, ho, these billionaires have got to go,” those in red shirts chanted.

“We will build it,” the construction workers hurled back.

I’ve often walked the sidewalks of Chinatown. First, as a toddler with my Taiwanese father and Chinese mother, and now as a high school junior. So when I heard the news of the 76ers arena proposal, I felt a pang of fear for the community of Asian Americans who had welcomed me throughout my childhood. I knew I wanted to join the fight. The Council chamber inside City Hall was the front line.

The possibility of the construction of a new 76ers stadium roiled the Asian community, sparking a two-year fight to preserve the cultural fabric of Philadelphia’s Chinatown.

The proposed Sixers stadium would painfully displace Chinatown businesses, just like the development of the Vine Street Expressway and the Convention Center. The expressway, which opened in 1991, sliced the neighborhood in half, while the Convention Center seized over 200 homes in 1989. Those fights, though lost, fostered a generational awareness of the ongoing threat of gentrification.

“While I have a strong belief in the government to do the right thing and represent the public interest, they don’t do that all the time, and that’s why civic engagement matters,” former City Councilmember Helen Gym told me.

Gym, 57, a longtime activist, became the first Asian American woman elected to Council in 2015. She got into politics, in part, because she wanted to better advocate for her community by having a seat at the table. However, she knows the importance of “the organizing tradition that made me who I am.”

“Hopefully, that same tradition will mint a new generation,” she said.

Chinatown encompasses a microcosm of home for various Asian ethnicities. It is a place where shoppers can buy imported goods in family-owned grocery stores, and sample savory, hand-stretched noodles and Dim Sum. The cultural hub welcomes creativity through its residents’ art, and celebrates the rainbow of East Asian cultures from Chinese and Vietnamese to Burmese and Filipino.

The proposed 76ers arena would not only disrupt their neighborhood with traffic and rowdy sports fans, but destroy it: driving up rent prices and forcing longtime residents and small business owners to move elsewhere.

A coalition of activist groups, community members, and business owners came together in hopes of protecting Chinatown against corporate greed. Not for the first time. The group had successfully fought a baseball stadium and a casino. The proponents of a new 76ers arena played up the potential economic benefits of development and job creation. The coalition had heard this before.

“They kind of try to pretend that they’re going to listen to you. These guys didn’t even do that. They were just like, `We’re doing this and there’s nothing you can do about it,’” 67-year-old Deborah Wei told me. “We already know what these large projects can do to the community.”

Wei, founder of Asian Americans United, reflected on the nature of activism and its repetitiveness. Faced with a proposed basketball arena, she turned to a network of AAU members who fought the baseball stadium together in 2000.

“We immediately just called each other and said, ‘It looks like we’ve got another fight,’” Wei said.

The community’s battle against the arena began with an air of optimism. But when Mayor Cherelle L. Parker went on record in support of the stadium, the activists and business owners of Chinatown felt betrayed.

After numerous recesses due to protesting, the majority of Council followed Parker’s lead and approved the legislation, authorizing the arena by a 12-4 vote on Dec. 12.

Shortly after the New Year, the 76ers abruptly abandoned the Market East arena proposal to remain in South Philly’s Sports Complex. Reportedly, this shift happened due to a new deal with Comcast Spectacor that essentially gave the basketball team a more financially advantageous deal.

“What ends up happening is that it was never serious on the behalf of those individuals, unless they can extract most from it,” Gym reflected.

One key takeaway is the sanctity of the community, young and old, coalescing with a common goal.

“In our Chinatown organizing, we’ve always been really conscious that this is a long game, and we have to support young people in learning how to get the skills they need to work for the common good,” Wei said.

On that early December day, when I first joined the fight to protect Chinatown, I heard the echo of my own voice among so many voices from Chinatown’s community and beyond, making a tangible difference. Council decided to table the decision that day, because yet again, the people’s voice had grown too loud.

Those at the front line of the movement carry on the legacy of previous generations of Asian American justice-seekers. Even as the gavel struck against unforgiving wood in the Council room, the shouting did not cease, just as the passion from Chinatown did not cease, and never will. I’ll be there to fight for Chinatown when the next project surfaces, joining the generations before me – and after.