By Samantha Pak
NORTHWEST ASIAN WEEKLY
Superfan: How Pop Culture Broke My Heart
Superfan: How Pop Culture Broke My HeartBy Jen Sookfong Lee
McClelland & Stewart, 2023
For most of her life, pop culture has been Jen Sookfong Lee’s way to escape family tragedy and fit in with the larger culture around her. “Anne of Green Gables” showed her that even though she lost her father at age 12, it was still possible for her to have a loving family. While Princess Diana proved that there was more to life than being a good girl.
But as she grew up, Lee realized that as much as she loved pop culture, perhaps pop culture didn’t love her back, or more accurately, someone like her—the daughter of Chinese immigrants who embraced the model minority myth for the safety and invisibility it afforded them.
Tackling key moments from her life, such as her father’s death, her divorce, and surviving sexual assault, and weaving them together with pop culture moments and figures, “Superfan” is the story of an Asian Canadian woman navigating life in a world that has often seen her as “other.” As a fellow Asian (North) American woman, I related to all of this as pop culture is all around us and something we can’t really escape. As a result, we’re bombarded with these images and stories that oftentimes—especially growing up—have excluded us or have stereotyped us to fit in a box of what others think we should be.
Lee does a great job of balancing out the more serious moments of her life with movies, books, and celebrities, showing how the cultures around us shape us and our lives. Her thoughts on novelist Amy Tan, in particular, and the impact the writer has had on fellow Asian American writers, women, and Asian American culture, resonated with me as I, too, have had a love-hate relationship with Tan’s books.
Sharing your life is not easy. Sharing your life with strangers is even more difficult. But Lee gives us an intimate glimpse into a world that is unique to her, but also universal in her experiences with love, loss, family, and celebrity.
My Vietnam, Your Vietnam: A father flees. A daughter returns. A dual memoir.
My Vietnam, Your Vietnam: A father flees. A daughter returns. A dual memoir.By Christina Vo and Nghia M. Vo
Three Rooms Press, 2024
When Nghia M. Vo left Vietnam in April 1975 after the United States withdrew its troops and Saigon fell, he set out on a harrowing two-month journey that landed him in a refugee camp just outside of Harrisburg, Pennsylvania. Then, he began the process of reconnecting with his family and rebuilding his life and career as a medical doctor in a new country.
His daughter, Christina Vo, grew up in the United States, in small towns where Vietnamese were few and far between. As a result, as a young adult, she longs to connect with her heritage, moving to Hanoi in the former North Vietnam—much to her father’s dismay—to discover a country that has been changed by war, but has maintained many of the ancient traits her ancestors experienced.
In this dual memoir, with alternating chapters between father and daughter, we get a look at one country in two very different times: Before and during war, and healing from said war. Both Nghia and Christina may be talking about Vietnam, but they are two very different Vietnams. The juxtaposition of their two journeys—as one leaves the country and the other arrives for the first time—shows readers how nothing stays the same. Just as people evolve and move on from trauma (or at least try to), the places we leave behind are not frozen in time. But despite all of this change, we can still find threads that run through these places and tie us to one another.
One thing I appreciated about the Vos’ stories is the impact the book has on their relationship—in that it doesn’t really have one. Christina writes how she and her father have never been really close, and they still aren’t. They still don’t talk often, but she understands him more as a result and that’s fine with her. This reminded me how this is real life, and real life doesn’t always have a “happy ending,” but also felt more realistic for an Asian parent-child relationship.
Uncle Rico’s Encore: Mostly True Stories of Filipino Seattle
By Peter Bacho
University of Washington Press, 2022
From the 1950s to the 1970s, blue-collar Filipino Americans, or Pinoys, have lived a hard life. Immigrant parents endured blatant racism, violence, and poverty, while their American-born children faced more subtle forms of racism, such as low expectations.
In this collection of autobiographical essays, Bacho shines a light on Seattle’s Filipino community that has lived in the city’s multiethnic neighborhoods for generations. A love letter to Seattle as well as its Pinoy community, Bacho shares stories of everyday life—fishing with marshmallows at Madison Beach, playing basketball at Madrona Park, and more. He also includes stories of defiance, activism, and resistance such as community members facing off with the union-busting federal government in the 1950s and folks organizing for better housing and services for elders in the 1970s.
“Uncle Rico’s Encore” is a slice of Seattle history many people are likely unaware of—I definitely was. For anyone who grew up in Seattle or the greater Puget Sound region, it’s interesting to see how the city has changed, but also how things have stayed the same. Bacho brings up landmarks and businesses from around the region, some that are still around and some that are not, and readers (specifically local readers) will wish they’d been able to see these places back in the day.
As someone who is a part of a relatively new community in the region, I really enjoyed reading about an Asian American community that has been here in Seattle for multiple generations. And while Filipino Americans faced many hardships over the decades, it was inspiring to read how they persisted and resisted, all while maintaining their pride in their community.