It’s almost 5:00 in the afternoon, and Chinatown is slowing down for the day. A golden glow falls over the neighborhood as Irene Leung-Astwood moves past street vendors, tourists and young families on a quick tour around the area, passing by her favorite local stops as well as now-empty stores and malls that bring back memories of a thriving, energetic cultural enclave.
Originally from Hong Kong, Leung-Astwood moved to New York City as a 20-year-old to pursue higher education. After obtaining her associate’s degree, she got married and had two sons while assisting with her husband’s art business.
She went through a divorce after 10 years of marriage and relocated to South Pasadena to build a career in banking. Leung-Astwood then moved to New Zealand in 2012. She was planning to stay there long-term, but after experiencing a stroke in 2016 that left the right side of her body paralyzed - a condition called hemiplegia - she returned to the United States in March 2024 to receive care that she was not eligible for in New Zealand’s public healthcare system as a non-citizen and non-permanent resident on a work visa.
Leung-Astwood now lives at the Metro at Chinatown Senior Lofts, an affordable housing complex for adults aged 55 years and older that one of her sons suggested to her. She receives primary and dental care and acupuncture from the nearby Chinatown Service Center, and the neighborhood’s location makes it easy for her sons, who live in Pasadena and Downtown L.A., respectively, to visit her on a weekly basis.
But this proximity to Downtown L.A., Echo Park and other parts of the city has attracted a rapid influx of real estate development in the past couple of decades that has made it increasingly challenging for Leung-Astwood and other Chinatown residents, particularly elderly immigrants, to stay in the community.
Rent is continuously increasing across the neighborhood, one where renters live in 94% of occupied housing. At Leung-Astwood’s building, as long as each rise in rent is under 10% of the previous amount, her landlord can increase rent at any time interval. She says that it typically increases annually. However, in 2024, her rent increased after five months, from $1067 per month in April to $1166 per month in September.
The cost of living has been a significant stressor for Leung-Astwood since moving to Chinatown. Although Leung-Astwood can support herself with her savings, her Social Security benefits are not enough to cover her rent expenses. She had her stroke at 59 years old but was denied Social Security Disability Insurance until she turned 62 years old due to not paying Federal Insurance Contributions Act taxes for five years while working in New Zealand.
Leung-Astwood retired early at the same age, reducing her retirement benefits by around a third. She also recently underwent a foot surgery recommended for her hemiplegia.
Leung-Astwood says, “I am in between being comfortable and being in the worst situation [in Chinatown]. Some seniors have almost nothing to eat and are finding it hard to cook for themselves.” Many of these seniors depend on social security benefits as their sole source of income, have limited savings and are struggling to cover increasing rent. But housing is not the only resource that is slipping away from them.
Since Ai Hoa, Chinatown’s last remaining grocery store, closed in 2019, residents no longer have quick access to a culturally specific supermarket offering a wide variety of affordable, high-quality goods. Street vendors and small markets have a limited selection of items and may sell them at a marked up price.
Because of these factors, Leung-Astwood takes the Metro Rail to Pasadena to shop at Trader Joe’s. She mentions that most seniors shop for groceries in Chinatown itself, but business has been slow for both vendors and market owners.
Local restaurants and businesses are struggling as well. When Leung-Astwood lived in South Pasadena, she would often come to Chinatown to purchase fresh chicken at Superior Poultry or get dim sum with her family at Empress Pavilion in the Bamboo Plaza mall.
These days, Superior Poultry is still open, but Bamboo Plaza is almost completely abandoned, save for hobby shop Neo HappyLand. Corporate developers such as Redcar have converted other properties, such as The Shop, an indoor swap meet on Spring Street, to office and retail spaces, evicting shop owners in the process. Redcar also purchased Dynasty Center, the only remaining community mall in Chinatown, in 2021, and its current plans for developing Dynasty Center are unclear.
“Chinatown used to be really lively, and you couldn’t find parking on the weekends because it was so busy,” Leung-Astwood says. “Now it’s really dead.”
Each abandoned property means that there is one less intergenerational gathering space in Chinatown. Outside of their residential buildings and the tables outside the Alpine Recreation Center, older adults have few senior-friendly spaces available in the neighborhood to meet with others close in age.
Three times a week, Leung-Astwood heads to Koreatown to attend classes at the Wallis Annenberg GenSpace, an innovative senior center that offers dues-paying members the opportunity to try a variety of activities ranging from dance aerobics to crocheting to billiards.
It focuses on creativity and learning and aims to foster an inclusive environment for older adults of all backgrounds to support each other and form bonds. Through GenSpace, Leung-Astwood has experimented with songwriting and is working on several watercolor paintings. She is familiar with the staff at the center and recently started teaching her own weekly Mahjong class.
A majority of the Asian seniors who frequent GenSpace are Korean, likely due to the building’s location. Leung-Astwood does not know that any other older adults from Chinatown are members at the center and believes that the neighborhood would greatly benefit from a centrally located hub like GenSpace.
But as real estate development in the neighborhood caters to the interests and salaries of younger, wealthier professionals, it’s unlikely that the establishment of a senior center, especially one as unique in its mission and offerings as GenSpace, will be prioritized.
Redcar’s brochure for 843 N Spring St, where the swap meet known as The Shop once was, provides a guide to Chinatown that states, “Chinatown Los Angeles is a vibrant neighborhood that combines rich cultural heritage with a thriving modern scene.” It proceeds to recommend a series of coffee shops, restaurants, bars and art galleries, the majority of which are not centered around Asian culture or cuisine. Even relatively contemporary organizations such as the Chinese American Museum are left out.
Chinatown has always served as a cultural spot for people entering Los Angeles at various stages of their lives, like Leung-Astwood did. Despite having been away from Los Angeles for so many years, she says she immediately felt welcomed after moving into Chinatown. In addition to English, Leung-Astwood speaks Cantonese, as do many other residents in her building.
She feels that there is still a strong sense of community in Chinatown despite the challenges residents are navigating and often sees other seniors out and about in the area. She advocates for seniors’ concerns and disability rights and has joined community organizing groups such as the Chinatown Community for Equitable Development and the Metro Tenants Collective.
Much of Chinatown’s history is carried by the seniors who have witnessed it flourish and now live in a constant state of uncertainty as it fades. Concerns about gentrification have persisted for years alongside sudden real estate developments and increasing rents. And with the heavier law enforcement presence in Chinatown since the beginning of the Immigration and Customs Enforcement raids in June, residents are hesitant to go out into their own community.
These changes beg the question: What is Chinatown really today? How does it fit into a future L.A. that leaves seniors out of the picture of a historic neighborhood rooted in the displacement of Asian Americans?
In the meantime, Leung-Astwood continues to support the neighborhood she calls home in the ways that she can. She stays connected to communities that bring joy to her life and encourage her and other seniors to pursue their interests and curiosities in a time that is easily clouded by worry.
