Lion dance kings and queens: How tradition has bonded three generations

Outside Asian Court, a dim sum restaurant in Ellicott City, two dozen people crowd together in a circle on a brisk Sunday in February. They’re listening to Dai Si Jie (eldest sister) Emily Lam, a junior coach at U.S. Jow Ga Martial Arts who has been coordinating this Lunar New Year season’s lion dance performances.

“We worked really hard this year, and you guys did a great job listening to instruction,” Emily Lam says. “Just remember, last performance, make sure everybody gets a turn doing what they want. Starting roles are just starting roles, so please switch around and talk to your teammates.”

It’s the last public performance of the season and the final one that the children — who make up the majority of the team — can participate in.

As soon as the clock strikes 12:30 p.m., the drumming begins.

Si Hing (elder brother) Eric Lam, Emily’s brother and fellow junior coach, is on the drum for the entirety of the 35-minute set. The drum is like the heartbeat of the lion, says Sifu (master) Alex Lim, owner of the school.

After the performance, Alex Lim pulls aside Emily Lam and Eric Lam. He introduces them to Howard Wong, a friend he invited to photograph the event. Howard is already in conversation with their mom, Winnie Lam.

“Howard used to lion dance with your grandfather!” Alex Lim excitedly tells Emily Lam and Eric Lam. “Isn’t that so cool?”

At U.S. Jow Ga Martial Arts, this is what it’s all about.

“Any martial arts school can teach you how to punch and kick. We try to focus on the family,” said Si Baak (elder uncle) Steven Lim, Sifu Alex’s son and a senior instructor.

The Yau/Lam family’s lion dance history begins with Benny Yau. Benny Yau started lion dancing around the age of 8 in his homeland of Taishan, a city in the Guangdong province of Southeast China. In the local dialect, the city is called Hoisan. This is also what the dialect is called and is what Benny Yau still speaks today.

“Back in the day, they would have to do either kung fu or lion dance,” Benny Yau’s son, Donny Yau, translates. “He wanted to try out lion dance, so him and his brothers would go out and try lion dance, but also learn kung fu on the side without grandpa knowing.”

“The people that had money would buy weapons like guns or whatever, but when you’re poor, your only way of fighting or way of defense would be kung fu,” Benny Yau’s daughter, Winnie Lam, adds.

Over time, Benny Yau gained enough knowledge that he was able to teach kung fu and lion dance in his village. In 1966, he moved to Hong Kong, where Winnie, his first child, was born. Shortly after, he made the move to Baltimore in 1967.

Benny Yau quickly became part of Baltimore’s Chinese American community. He performed lion dances at events for Grace and St. Peter’s Episcopal Church. The church on Park Avenue in Baltimore had a Chinese Language School, and the money generated from performances went directly back into the school and church.

You can’t talk about the history of Baltimore’s Chinese culture without hearing about Lillian Kim. She orchestrated the church’s Lunar New Year celebrations for decades, was director of the Chinese Language School and wrote a Chinese newsletter.

“Anytime Miss Kim asked if we were able to help with any kind of performance, we were always there,” Donny Yau says.

For Winnie Lam and Donny Yau, who was born 10 years after his sister, lion dance performances were very familiar.

“We looked forward to Chinese New Year, because that’s the time we actually saw my dad performing in front of strangers,” Winnie Lam said. “So that’s how we learned the music and watched the lion dance performing, because they didn’t want us [children] running all over the place.”

The siblings were taught lion dancing by their dad and uncles, but they weren’t allowed to perform in the street; firecrackers were used when performing outside, and Benny Yau didn’t want them to get hurt.

At 14, Winnie was finally able to perform for a crowd; the event was inside the Walters Art Museum, so there would be no firecrackers. She played head as her cousin played tail. According to Winnie Lam, they were the first all-female lion in Baltimore.

When Kim died in 2004, nobody picked up the role of organizing the New Year celebrations. The Yau/Lam family performed at events now and then, but primarily took a hiatus.

A new chapter in the family’s history with lion dance began in 2016, when Winnie Lam’s children, Eric and Emily, joined U.S. Jow Ga Martial Arts. Their neighbor was a former sifu at the school and recommended it. When Winnie Lam and her husband Steven, who is the cameraman at every performance, learned that the school had lion dancing, they knew the kids had to attend.

Eric Lam took to music. He learned from various teachers, but learned the foundations from his grandfather. Emily Lam gravitated toward playing lion and was partnered with Steven Lim because of their shared passion for performing.

They practiced constantly and soon were being called up to the front of the room to help demonstrate techniques. By 2019, they became junior instructors.

“When I was younger, I was almost afraid to perform because I didn’t like to be attention-seeking like that, but now I love it,” Emily Lam said. “I love teaching it and seeing the work the students have put in over the last months of training come together.”

Winnie Lam and Donny Yau started performing with USJGMA one year after Eric Lam and Emily Lam joined the school, and they’ve been key in helping grow the performance team. Early on, Winnie Lam got advice from Benny Yau about traditional signs of respect to uphold while performing and passed it onto the school. Today, Donny Yau — whose daughter, Jaina, has also been practicing with the team for four years — focuses on how to improve the team’s storytelling to make the performance more engaging for the audience.

“We’re keeping the family tradition alive,” Donny Yau said.

This story has been updated to correct the birthplace of Winnie Yau.