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The Taiwanese community in Walnut, California

The Taiwanese in Walnut, California

Atlas of Home June 19, 2026 9 min read

Drive east along Valley Boulevard far enough and the old Chinatown gives way to something quieter. Lawns widen, the hills roll, and the strip malls fill with characters that read in Mandarin. This is the far edge of the San Gabriel Valley, and the Taiwanese in Walnut, California built much of it on purpose: a town chosen less for nostalgia than for good schools, big houses, and room to breathe.

The Place

Walnut sits in the eastern San Gabriel Valley of Los Angeles County, just under nine square miles of low hills and cul-de-sacs about thirty miles east of downtown Los Angeles. It was incorporated as a general law city on 19 January 1959, and its name comes from the Rancho Los Nogales land grant, nogales being Spanish for walnut trees.

For most of the twentieth century it was ranch country, then a sleepy bedroom suburb of horse properties and orange groves. The land had passed through the Tongva, the Spanish missions, and the great nineteenth-century ranchos of Rancho San Jose, Rancho Los Nogales and La Puente before John Rowland and William Workman divided it in 1868.

Today it is one of the most prosperous small cities in the state, with a 2023 median household income of $133,762. It is also among the most Asian places in America: by the 2020 census, Asian residents made up roughly 67 per cent of the population of 28,430, a share that stood at barely 10 per cent in 1980. The transformation, condensed into a single generation, is one of the most dramatic in California’s recent suburban history.

How It Became Taiwanese

The story does not begin in Walnut. It begins about fifteen miles to the west, in Monterey Park, in the 1970s.

From Little Taipei, eastward

A Taiwanese American realtor named Frederic Hsieh started buying property in Monterey Park in the early 1970s and marketing it to prospective immigrants from Taiwan, pitching the town as a kind of Chinese Beverly Hills. The pitch worked. By the 1980s Monterey Park had earned the nickname Little Taipei, the first suburb in America with an Asian majority.

Success brought congestion, soaring prices, and a bruising slow-growth politics that, for the better part of two decades, put a damper on new development. Newcomers and the money behind them began looking further out, settling first in Alhambra, San Gabriel, Rosemead and Temple City, then pushing east into Hacienda Heights, Rowland Heights, Diamond Bar and Walnut.

Why Walnut, specifically

Walnut offered what the inner Valley could not: detached single-family homes on real lots, hillside lines of sight, and a school district that was rapidly becoming a regional benchmark. For Taiwanese families arriving in the late 1980s and through the 1990s, often with capital from business or professional careers back home, that combination was the entire point.

The 2000 census made the shift impossible to miss. Chinese ancestry accounted for around 21 per cent of Walnut’s residents that year, and Taiwanese for roughly 20.7 per cent, two of the largest reported ancestries in the city. In a town this size, that meant Taiwanese families were not a niche. They were a plurality of the newcomers reshaping it.

The schools did the rest

Among Taiwanese parents, the Walnut Valley Unified School District became shorthand for arrival. Walnut High School and neighbouring Diamond Bar High School consistently rank in the top tiers of California public schools and have repeatedly been named among the best in the nation. Minority enrolment at these campuses runs well over 90 per cent, a large share of it Asian.

Word travelled along family and business networks the way it always has in immigrant America. A cousin bought in Walnut, the children tested into honours classes, and the next relative followed. Real estate agents who spoke Mandarin and understood the calculus of a parent weighing test scores against mortgage rates did a brisk trade. The migration that began as an escape from a crowded Monterey Park hardened, in Walnut, into a deliberate strategy.

What emerged was not an enclave in the Chinatown sense. There was no single commercial high street, no district of red lanterns built for tourists. Walnut stayed residential, even leafy. The Taiwanese presence showed up instead in the everyday grain of the place: in the languages spoken at the supermarket checkout, in the boba shops and bakeries tucked into strip malls, in the cars idling outside cram schools on a Saturday morning.

The pattern echoed across the eastern Valley at the same moment. Where Monterey Park had been the first majority-Asian suburb in the country, Walnut and its neighbours were the second act: wealthier, greener, and built around the school catchment rather than the storefront. Families compared notes across town lines, weighing a Walnut address against one in Diamond Bar or Rowland Heights much as their parents had once weighed neighbourhoods back in Taiwan. The decision was rarely sentimental. It was a careful audit of test scores, commute times and resale value.

The Landmarks

Mt. San Antonio College, 1100 North Grand Avenue. Known universally as Mt. SAC, this is the largest single-campus community college in California and a fixture of Walnut life since 1946. For many immigrant families it has been a first rung, a place to take English, retrain, or send a teenager before transferring to a UC. Its Mt. SAC Relays, a track meet that began in 1959, draws athletes from around the world.

Walnut High School, 400 North Pierre Road. The campus that anchors the town’s reputation. Its consistent national rankings are the single most cited reason Taiwanese families give for choosing Walnut over cheaper options, and its hallways reflect that: a student body that is overwhelmingly Asian American, with a deep bench of Advanced Placement and International Baccalaureate coursework.

Suzanne Park, 625 Suzanne Road. The civic heart of the older town. Each autumn it hosts the Walnut Family Festival, a parade and fair that predates the demographic shift and still draws everyone, a rare common ground where the ranch-town past and the immigrant present share the same lawn.

Lemon Creek Village, 300 to 390 North Lemon Avenue. A neighbourhood shopping plaza of the kind that does the real cultural work in suburban diaspora life. Grocery, bank, restaurants and small services cluster together, the unglamorous infrastructure where a Taiwanese household runs its errands without ever switching out of its first language.

The Village. Walnut’s small Craftsman-style downtown shopping district, a deliberate nod to the city’s pre-war character. It is a reminder that the town had an identity before it became majority Asian, and that the two now coexist in the same few blocks.

Hsi Lai Temple, 3456 South Glenmark Drive, Hacienda Heights. Just over the city line, this is the spiritual landmark for the whole eastern Valley. Opened in 1988 by the Taiwan-based Fo Guang Shan order, it was the order’s first overseas branch and the largest Buddhist temple in the Western Hemisphere at its dedication. Walnut’s Taiwanese families have made its courtyards a fixture of Lunar New Year and Buddha’s Birthday for a generation.

Where They Came From

The families who reshaped Walnut came overwhelmingly from Taiwan, and disproportionately from Taipei and the island’s other cities. They were, in the main, an educated and professional migration: engineers, business owners, doctors and accountants who arrived with savings and a clear plan for their children.

This sets the Taiwanese story apart from the later mainland Chinese arrivals who filled towns like nearby Rowland Heights and the inner Valley. The Taiwanese wave crested earlier, through the 1980s and 1990s, when emigration from a prospering but politically uncertain Taiwan ran high and American suburbs offered both safety and opportunity. They tended to plant roots fast, buy rather than rent, and stay.

That origin shaped the texture of the place. The same instinct that built the Taiwanese community in neighbouring Diamond Bar drove Walnut: a preference for the suburban, the orderly and the academically ambitious over the dense commercial clamour of the older Chinatowns.

Walnut Today

Walnut in the late 2020s is a settled, second-generation place. The children who tested into Walnut High in the 1990s are now parents themselves, and many have stayed or returned, raising a third generation in the houses their families bought a quarter-century ago.

It is also a town with a curious quirk for a place two-thirds Asian: it has long lacked a large Asian supermarket inside its own borders. Residents drive to Diamond Bar, Rowland Heights or West Covina for their 99 Ranch runs, and a local petition has campaigned to bring one into a vacant Walnut storefront. It is a small thing that says something true. Walnut never became a commercial hub. It remained, stubbornly, a place to live.

The broader eastern Valley around it forms one of the densest Taiwanese and Chinese American regions in the country, knitting Walnut to its neighbours. Families here move easily between the overlapping Chinese community in Walnut, the temples and night-market plazas of Rowland Heights, and the wider Taiwanese networks stretching north to the Bay Area towns of Cupertino and Fremont. What began as one realtor’s pitch in Monterey Park became, over fifty years, an entire geography of arrival.

Frequently Asked Questions

Why did so many Taiwanese settle in Walnut, California?

The Taiwanese in Walnut, California came chiefly for the schools, the housing and the space. As Monterey Park grew crowded in the 1980s, well-off Taiwanese families moved east in search of large single-family homes and a top-ranked school district, and Walnut delivered both.

How large is the Taiwanese community in Walnut?

By the 2000 census, Taiwanese was the reported ancestry or birthplace of roughly 20.7 per cent of Walnut residents, alongside a comparable Chinese share. The city is around two-thirds Asian overall, making the Taiwanese in Walnut, California one of the defining communities of the town.

Is there a Chinatown or commercial district in Walnut?

No. Unlike the older Chinatowns, Walnut never developed a single ethnic commercial high street. The community is residential and dispersed, with Taiwanese life showing up in neighbourhood plazas, bakeries and boba shops rather than a tourist district.

What are the best-known schools in Walnut?

Walnut High School and Diamond Bar High School, both in the Walnut Valley Unified School District, are repeatedly ranked among the best public high schools in California and the nation. Their academic reputation is the single most common reason Taiwanese families cite for moving to the area.

Where do Walnut residents go for Taiwanese groceries and food?

Walnut itself has long lacked a major Asian supermarket, so residents drive to nearby Diamond Bar, Rowland Heights or West Covina for chains like 99 Ranch Market. Restaurants, bakeries and boba shops in local plazas serve the everyday cravings closer to home.

What is the connection between Walnut and Hsi Lai Temple?

Hsi Lai Temple sits just over the line in neighbouring Hacienda Heights and serves as the spiritual centre for the eastern San Gabriel Valley. Built in 1988 by the Taiwan-based Fo Guang Shan order, it is a focal point for Walnut’s Taiwanese families during Lunar New Year and other Buddhist festivals.

If your family’s story passed through Walnut, or any of the places Taiwanese Americans have made home in America, Atlas of Home can trace that journey. From a flat in Taipei to a hillside house in the San Gabriel Valley, to wherever you are now.

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