Stateside Michigan –
Ann Arbor writer Michelle Yang relearned her identity at age nine when her family of four chose to immigrate from South Korea to the United States. From there, Yang’s family trekked across the country in a Ford Dixie.
They finally settled in Phoenix, Arizona a year later, where Yang found herself working at their family-owned Chinese restaurant by age 12. Between working hours, mental health struggles and a violent family dynamic, Yang felt like she was drowning.
This week, Yang released her memoir Phoenix Girl: How a Fat Asian with Bipolar Found Love. She carefully folds these personal experiences into a heartfelt, compelling narrative.
“We don’t talk about the trauma of immigration enough,” Yang told Stateside. “We talk about it as a positive thing. And of course it is, but it can be both. It can be ultimately positive, but also very traumatic.”
Yang drives the memoir with compassion toward her immigrant parents. At nine, she felt her world turn over. But in retrospect, she cannot imagine her parents’ feelings, she said.
“I can’t even imagine what my parents were thinking, dragging two kids to a place they knew nothing about, abandoning everything they knew, their support systems, their jobs, to completely start over at the bottom of the rung.”
While Yang was attempting to tackle the English language for the first time, she said she also was forced to reckon with the changes she witnessed her parents experiencing. In South Korea, she described her father as “the life of the party” who “always knew what to do.” But the instability of immigration drove him into fear.
“He became terrifying, he showed that anger, but it became a whole other thing once we moved to the States because also when we moved to Phoenix eventually we were pretty isolated,” Yang explained. “In other places we would have had a lease, a little bit of a support system, but we were on our own in Phoenix.”
Yang shared how some of her earliest memories dealt with body image issues. In one passage, Yang recounts her father taking away a plate of rice at mealtime because she was “getting too fat”.
“I was like seven years old, so I was just called Xiaopang and so was my dad,” Yang said. “He was called Xiaopang, which means a little fatty…. As long as I can remember, I had this label of fat.”
In college, Yang found an Asian American community. As Yang got to know her friends’ parents, she began to realize that she’d been conditioned to think her experiences were just a way of being Chinese American but not the only way, Yang said.
“The domestic violence is not part of every family, and not every parent just sees you as an extension of themselves,” Yang said. “I just felt such turmoil when I met these other Asian Americans, and I’m like, there’s another way.”
Much of Yang’s life changed when she immigrated to the United States, and she’s thought about how her life might be different if her family had never left South Korea. There’s no question that her life would’ve unfolded differently, but she said she recognizes that while the U.S. is far from perfect, cultural progression in East Asia is much slower.
“I think if I did still have my same bipolar disorder, my life would have been a lot harder,” Yang said. “I don’t think I would have had the same access to care. The stigma from society would have been much stronger.”
In her memoir, Yang unravels for the reader the way the cultural norms that her parents held onto were decades outdated.
“It wasn’t until much later that I realized my parents, what they hold onto, is … far outdated,” Yang said. “It’s decades outdated because they immigrated in 1990 and Korea has made progress.
Courtesy of Michelle Yang.
In this coming of age story, Yang manages to tackle the broaders themes of trauma, immigration and belonging into a heartfelt narrative anyone can empathize with.
Yang’s memoir was released May 6. The Ann Arbor District Library will host a book launch, which will include a book reading, discussion on healing through art and signing on May 29 at 6pm.
—
—
Read More Michigan News
