The Astronaut Children of Dunbar Street: A Memoir

by Wiley Wei-Chiun Ho

An intimate geopolitical memoir that gives voice to the thousands of "parachute kids" across North America—children raised by long-distance phone calls and international wire transfers.

In 1979, following the US–Taiwan break in diplomatic relations, a family emigrates from Taiwan to North America—only to arrive in the midst of a deep recession. With few job prospects, the parents make a wrenching to return to Taiwan for work, leaving their children behind in Vancouver. At just twelve years old, Wiley, the youngest child, suddenly finds herself unsupervised with only two rules to live study hard and stay out of trouble.

What begins as freedom soon gives way to homesickness, cultural dislocation and isolation. The siblings struggle in different ways, but once a month, during brief overseas phone calls, they gather to maintain the illusion of stability for their guilt-ridden parents. The separation grows from months to years. The family is never whole again.

The story of this fractured household parallels Taiwan’s own ongoing struggle for survival, identity and recognition—much like its children, scattered across the globe. The memoir draws a powerful connection between personal and political displacement, revealing a hidden history of resilience among transnational families.

While countless “astronaut children” and “parachute kids” have grown up in Canada, the US, Australia and New Zealand, their stories remain largely absent from the literary landscape. The Astronaut Children of Dunbar Street brings their experience into urgent and unforgettable focus. Wiley Wei-Chiun Ho’s debut is a searingly honest account of being left behind in the pursuit of a better life, and offers a rare, first-person look at the emotional cost of the transpacific dream.

Genres: Canada, Nonfiction, Memoir, Biography

272 pages, Paperback

Published September 22, 2026

Reviews

[theliterateleprechaun]

Interesting book mentioning places I'm familiar with and brought to mind the astronaut children I taught. I wish I'd had more foresight to check in on them more often.

[hedgeping]

8/10

[Renée Schisler]

A great debut, and insight into complicated family situations.

[Vic]

I hadn't heard of "astronaut children" as a term before, but I knew of children in the same situation because they were quite common where I lived. In fact, part of my enjoyment of this memoir came from the fact that I grew up in pretty much the same area as the author. I was quite familiar with all the Vancouver reference points, which doesn't happen often in the books I read.
For a short book, it wasn't short on the emotional impact. I really felt for all the five kids, but especially the brother. Since he was the only son as well as the eldest child, his duty to run the household when he was barely an adult himself was an immense amount of pressure. On top of that, he was expected to follow in his father's footsteps and join the medical field. This is all unfortunately too common across many Asian families, but none of that justifies the expectation put upon the oldest son and child to take care of everything while excelling professionally.
As the youngest, Wiley's struggles were vastly different. Because she was the baby in the family, her voice was minimized, but she also developed more ties to Canada than her other siblings. All her sisters eventually went back to Taiwan, which changed the dynamic of the household and her sense of belonging. Although I liked the length of the book, I wouldn't have minded more reflection on her relationship with her parents as a middle-aged adult. The ending felt somewhat abrupt. Is she at peace with why her parents decided to leave their children behind in Canada? Did she understand their decision as a parent herself? Does she view her childhood any differently?

[Pranav Bhatnagar]

I finished The Astronaut Children of Dunbar Street with the strange feeling that I had been sitting beside Wiley through so many moments of her life rather than simply reading about them. What stayed with me was how quietly the book shows what it can mean to grow up between places, languages, expectations, and versions of home. Wiley’s childhood in Vancouver is full of moments that can seem ordinary at first, but there is always something underneath them. The loneliness, the distance from her parents, the pressure to become the person her family imagined, and the feeling of never completely belonging anywhere slowly become part of the person she grows into. I found myself laughing at some of the family stories and then suddenly feeling a heaviness that I did not expect. The relationship with her parents especially made me think about how love and hurt can exist in the same place. I also appreciated that Wiley does not turn her family into simple heroes or villains. She tries to understand them while still giving herself permission to question what happened. That honesty made the memoir feel very human to me. I could feel the struggle between gratitude and anger, between wanting to belong and wanting to make a life of her own. The writing also has a wonderful sense of humour, which gives the heavier parts room to breathe. More than anything, this book made me think about how childhood can stay with us long after we believe we have moved past it. I closed the book feeling that I had understood something about Wiley, but also something about the quiet ways families carry love, sacrifice, distance, and pain.

[Laurie Burns]

I love a good memoir, and Ho's "The Astronaut Children of Dunbar Street" hits the ticket. Taiwanese Canadian Wiley reflects on leaving Taiwan at 7, moving to BC, and then eventually her parents heading back to Taiwan to make money while she and her siblings stay behind, This is the concept of "astronaut children", children whose parents are working elsewhere while they leave their children behind to make all of their North American dreams come true. This memoir has many juicy layers, learning more about Taiwan and its history, leaning into family, immigration and family expectations as well as struggling to find your own identity.
Having lived in Taiwan for a few years, I am always interested in reading about this fascinating island and its people and its complicated history, and Ho does a wonderful job of mixing this with tough family situations, in a world where we are all just trying our damn best. The writing is well done and the prose is easy to get into and often moving. A great read!

[Andrea]

I learned about Wiley Wei-Chiun Ho (Wei-Chiun pronounced "Way Jun") and her experiences as a Taiwanese Canadian writer at a Fireside Chat of the Federation of BC Writers entitled "What It Takes to Finish a Memoir". While starting to read her book, I can understand why it took her six years to write it! She explains that it includes the romanization of three forms of text, including Taiwanese, Chinese, and Wade-Giles (European system), which add a dimension to the English words in this book. Her opening description of seeking a Taiwanese passport in Vancouver during the pandemic so that she can visit her parents in her native country combines the formalities of bureaucracy with the connection of meeting a stranger from that country who helps her with the process through shared sentimentality.

[Zoidberg]

Excellent. The love that went into this book is evident in every page. It wasn't until the final line of the acknowledgement that I recognized the author's experience as a mirror to my relationship with my father. My dad passed away in May 2026, and spent large portions of my childhood working away in the oilfields of Alberta to make sure I had everything he didn't have. His absences while I was growing up were difficult. I mourn his loss. Despite vastly different experiences separated by geography, ethnicity, and gender, I see a reflection of myself in the raw humanity of this story.

The Astronaut Children of Dunbar Street has moved me to tears, making the group of novels that have done that into a trio.

To the author: thank you for this wonderful jewel, and for creating a piece of art that connects us all to the human experience.

[L Denis]

I read about this book in “BC Books” on the ferry and immediately ordered a copy from the publisher. It didn’t disappoint; I devoured it in two days. I’ve always wondered what it was like to be a child living in a house in Vancouver with only one or no parents living in the country with you. This book helped me understand that kind of childhood and how it shapes one forever. My conclusion was that Wiley and her Ma would never truly understand each other. Their points of reference were just too disparate. It also reminded me that people experience and express love in ways that cannot always be appreciated by the recipient.

[Jfo]

Really great and interesting read. I had no idea about the astronaut children - but it definitely makes sense, how parents were in such a difficult spot, with being able to immigrate but not being able to find work in their career fields due to restrictions around licencing, etc... such awful circumstances for families and children to go through. I found myself empathizing with the parents' difficult choices and with the struggles and isolation of the author. I felt so frustrated that the parents couldn't acknowledge how difficult it had been for the author, growing up basically on her own 💔

[Sonia Garrett]

This memoir is heart-breaking and real. Author Wiley Wei-Chiun Ho recalls emigrating to Canada, the challenges of settling (learning a new language, having officials failing to recognize her parents qualifications and experience, loss of community status) and her parents decision to leave their five children in Canada to return to Taiwan. The family was spread across continents, never to be whole again. I wholeheartedly recommend reading this.

[Patricia L.]

"Absence a willing companion, the price we pay for love."
This is Wiley Wei-Chiun Ho's last line in her fabulously real memoir as an astronaut child on Dunbar Street.
Don't know what that means?
Read the book and you will find out.

The memoir is so well written, each chapter held me as a short story.
The book brought back memories of Expo 86, and helped explain an immigrant friend of my son's life.
He moved to Hong Kong but lucky for Canada Wiley still lives in Vancouver.

[Vontel]

A touching memoir of special interest to me, given my living in BC during this era of 'astronaut' families. The insights of some of the challenges of the families, and particularly those children 'left here' experienced were poignant, and helpful in understanding more of how the experiences affected everyone.

[Reader]

This was my first fully read book this year. I recognized parts of Vancouver that I haven’t seen in years. With experiences I can’t imagine for the clarity of the way they were described.

Some stories were cheeky, some stories sad, some uplifting.

It was a really enjoyable read for me, I’m happy to share this book

[Liz Rachel Walker]

A very moving memoir. I didn't want to put it down. The author shares her story of growing up in an astronaut family in Vancouver, highlighting the emotionally meaningful moments and the impacts on her and her life. I'm grateful for her telling this story to help others understand what some of our BC neighbours may have gone through, or perhaps are going through.

[Kate Welfing]

Not sure why this says unpublished - picked up from the library. Very interesting story about the untethering life of immigrant children to the places they live. As one myself, it’s a strange and often unmoored feeling of being both the homeland and the new life whilst never really being either. Belonging and identity are complex and affected by change.

[Dora Prieto]

A gorgeous memoir about family, migration, identity, and memory. Wiley's prose is so thoughtful, luminous, and deeply humane. I laughed, learned, and was moved throughout. I'm so grateful to know Wiley and thrilled that this book is now in the world.

[Luna Alva]

Great memoir. The insights into a complex family and upbringing were presented in a way that felt familiar. Several aspects of this memoir had me reflecting on my own familial connections and how complex, yet beautiful, the relationships between children and parents can be.

[Peter]

Actually more a 3.5. The writing was a 3, but pretty good for a first effort. The story was a 4. A fascinating look at an aspect of immigration that I had never really thought about, but that has all kinds of implications and unconsidered downstream effects.

[Yuting]

A memoir of an astronaut child from a well off immigrant family. The last bits of it are a little tok fragmented.

Not a big deal, but I don’t understand why the author didn’t explicitly say Covid or pandemic for even a single time in the relevant chapter about quarantine? The chapter was an article published in a magazine. Maybe it’s a minor editing issue?

[Rhonda Fransoo]

Wow! What a story! I couldn't put it down.

[katelynn c]

it’s a bit scary how close this hit to ALL my homes

[Steve Cooper]

I enjoyed the insight into the life of an immigrant growing up in vancouver.

[Jesse Ferreras]

A vivid read, tightly structured, endlessly engaging.

[Kate]

A memoir that is really stitched together short stories.

I felt Ghost Forest tackled the topic of astronaut children with more emotional depth and better writing.

[Cris]

Amazing book written, so much truth and pain.

[Bill Philip]

3.8