At the beginning of May 2025, I found myself at the local library to pick up some books I’d requested. Right by the entrance, there’s always a collection of books the library highlights to commemorate and celebrate whatever theme of the month it is. While I usually breeze past the table and offer it nothing more than a courtesy glance, this time, on that day, I made a full stop — drawn in by interesting cover designs and kinships with the authors based on their last names.
I ended up checking out three of the books the library recommended: How to End a Love Story by Yulin Kuang, The Impossible City by Karen Cheung, and Everything I Learned, I Learned in a Chinese Restaurant by Curtis Chin.
Books have been my friends since I first learned English back in second grade, but I was always more interested in the content than the author. Now that I’m older, I realize that whose perspective I’m reading from matters, so I was really excited to dig in.
Falling in Love with Fiction Again
I got hooked on How to End a Love Story before I even left the library. My husband was taking care of our kids and I had time to read while waiting for him to pick me up, so I quickly devoured the first 100 or so pages. I love my romance books, and built up great expectations of what romance is all about from the likes of Danielle Steel, Nora Roberts, Nicholas Sparks, and EL James (#sorrynotsorry).
This was my first time reading a romance novel written by an Asian American, featuring an Asian American female protagonist(!). It blew my mind how much I could relate to a fictional character — how Helen read like someone I knew very intimately, as if she could’ve been my best friend or a sister.
Before this book, I’d always loved reading for how it transported me to new places and perspectives. I’ve related to plenty of characters before, regardless of their ethnicity or background. But now that I’ve experienced what it’s like to truly see myself in a story, I can’t wait to read more books like this.
Now that I think about it, I’ll say that since I graduated from college at least, most of the books I’ve read have been non-fiction, likely in the self-improvement category or biographies and memoirs. I wonder if I just naturally pivoted away from fiction because, as the very practical person that I am, I didn’t see myself learning much more from fiction books, or at least not as much as I could understand the value of self-improvement books and learning from other people’s real life stories.
A Hong Kong Memoir
The next book I read in May was The Impossible City. I was drawn to this one for its book tagline – A Hong Kong Memoir, and its cover image – a glimpse of Hong Kong skyscrapers through a condensation-soaked window. I’ll always be mesmerized by the Hong Kong skyline, and it brings back a lot of good memories, because I’m lucky enough to only associate Hong Kong with my first seven years of childhood, a study abroad semester, and fun vacations.
I’ll admit I’m not a very political person. I was raised to be practical, and I believe in meritocracy — that the best ideas should win, not specific parties. I recognize how privileged I am to even think this way, and while I’ve wrestled with whether I should care more, for now, I’ve chosen to live in my bubble.
With that context, The Impossible City was really eye opening. I didn’t really know about all the political movements that were happening in Hong Kong before the 2019 protests. I have always been blissfully ignorant when people tell me they’re visiting Hong Kong, as all I would feel is excitement for tourists to visit my wonderful birthplace.
Ahead of the 1997 handover back to China, my mom had the foresight to move us to the U.S. I arrived as a shy seven-year-old whose English maxed out at the British alphabet. Somehow, I picked up American English (I honestly don’t remember struggling through it), and since then, I’ve mostly lived in a blissfully ignorant state.
Instead of facing the idea that the Hong Kong I knew and loved is slowly being erased, I’ve kept my version frozen in time. When my mom left Hong Kong, she left everything behind — for the second time in her life — to give me the best public education she could afford. I didn’t grow up with a lot of role models, but my mom has always been the only one I needed.
Mother’s Day Celebrations
Fittingly, May also contains Mother’s Day. During a visit to another public library while waiting to pick up my daughter from Chinese school, I came across a display of children’s books in Chinese, all about moms.
There was:
- 媽媽上班的路上 by 김 영진
- 媽媽, 你還愛我嗎? by 羅寶鴻
- 說100次我愛你 by 村上しいこ
The girls and I loved each of these books. The stories were sweet and heartfelt, and the tone and lessons really vibe with my parenting style. I’d never seen a picture book show a mom commuting to work via bus and train, especially one with all Asian characters. The drawings brought me right back to stations I’ve been to in Taiwan, Seoul, Tokyo, Hong Kong, and Singapore.
It was also really cool to share the story of the mom being nervous about her work presentation with my girls- Olivia asked if that mom was presenting about AI, as I had done a few weeks ago and told her about. I nearly teared up while reading 媽媽, 你還愛我嗎? – I imagine my kids asking me that, and I would give the same responses that the mom shared in the story. I am so grateful to the librarian who curated these for Mother’s Day, and can’t wait to go back and check out more.
A Story that Echoes My Mother’s
During that same library visit, I happened to stumble upon another important book I read during AAPI month. This one was not curated for me already, but fate pulled me to it anyway. I don’t recall what I was doing in the biographical section, but I saw the vertical title Swimming to Freedom and knew I had to pick it up.
My mom had mentioned a few times to me that when she was younger, she swam from China to Hong Kong in search of a way to provide for her parents and three younger siblings at home. The few times I pressed, my mom didn’t really want to talk about it, so I never tried to elicit more details about this harrowing journey from her. Kent Wong’s account of his own escape from China to Hong Kong filled in a lot of holes for me and gave me a glimpse into what life must have been like for my mom back then.
When I think of things like the Cultural Revolution, I place it in the history bucket, as if it’s something that happened a long time ago, but really, it was only 5 decades ago. My mom lived through it and I can’t believe I haven’t talked to her more about it. It’s on my long list of to dos now, and I have already asked her to tell me more. She said she needs to think about it to remember, which is wild to me because she freaking braved through unknown water, potential shark attacks, risked being shot at by guards trying to catch freedom swimmers and survived, and she doesn’t wear this experience like a badge of honor.
I understand there’s a lot of reasons for why my mom is the way she is, but my mother truly is a legend, and once again I am so grateful to have this courageous woman as my mom. All the good parts of me, I got from her.
Another Perspective
Following Kent Wong’s book, I wanted to learn more so I ordered Freedom Swimmer from Wai Chim, which is another freedom swimmer story, this time based on the author’s father’s experiences. I really appreciated this book because Wai Chim did something I wish I could do – she listened to, understood, and shared her parent’s story.
I admire all the brave men and women who took a chance on Hong Kong. Reading these stories juxtaposed with The Impossible City, I am overwhelmed by sadness and nostalgia for a place I will always call my home. Once again, I have to thank my mom- not only did she give me the first gift of starting my life out in Hong Kong, but she also gave me the chance to live the American Dream.
One More Book
I wrapped up AAPI month with Everything I Learned, I Learned in a Chinese Restaurant by Curtis Chin. This book complements the collection of books I’ve read so far, and takes me through the story of someone who is a fourth generation Chinese American, something I am totally not familiar with at all being a first generation myself. The author grew up in Detroit and has an interesting perspective on what it means to be born and raised in America but still can feel very much like an outsider. He wrote very honestly about his experiences growing up, and I really enjoyed his humor. I’ve already googled the author and it looks like he’s writing a second memoir- can’t wait to pick that one up when it comes out!
Even though AAPI month is technically over, my journey into Asian American literature is just getting started. I’m currently reading Chop, Fry, Watch Learn: Fu Pei-Mei and the Making of Modern Chinese Food by Michelle King. I continue to be amazed at how much I relate to these stories — in big and small ways. I’m really fascinated by all these interesting lives and just how much I can relate to all the characters in each of these books I’ve mentioned in one way or another. I have so much to learn about my own story, who I am, what I stand for, and what matters to me, but reading about other people’s stories through well-written books with sharp points of views definitely makes me want to put my stories down in a cohesive manner as well.
Stories Are Our Legacy
I’m understanding more and more that the human experience is mostly about connections. I wish that my ancestors had written their stories down to pass on to me. I don’t really know where my family came from, beyond the general locations of Hong Kong and Guangdong, so it feels like a vital part of my own story is missing.
However, I can start this for my future generations, starting with my own children. I want them to know me and understand the way I think.
Ali Wong has a memoir called Dear Girls, and I wish she didn’t only have girls like I do, because that’s a great book title. I have no idea what I’ll call mine, but I look forward to sharing my stories with the people I love.
This AAPI month has been a month of growth, introspection, learning, and reflecting. I’m looking forward to celebrating my Asian heritage and culture more intentionally- not just in May, but all year long.
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