In the mid-1960s, Winberg Chai, a young academic and the son of Chinese immigrants, married an Irish-American artist. In "Hapa Girl" ('hapa' is Hawaiian for 'mixed'), their daughter tells the story of this loving family as they moved from Southern California to New York to a South Dakota farm by the 1980s. In their new Midwestern home, the family finds itself the object of unwelcome attention, which swiftly escalates to violence.
May-Lee Chai grew up in Southern California, New York, and South Dakota with her Chinese father (Winberg), Caucasian mother (Carolyn), and younger brother, Jeff. Their lives were relatively normal until May-Lee’s father accepted a position in South Dakota and moved the family there. Suddenly they were in a hotbed of racial tensions and prejudice. Because they were darker-skinned outsiders (who could be mistaken for Native Americans – and there was a lot of bad blood between the local tribes and the whites who had settled on their former lands – or Japanese, who were unreasonably feared), they were treated with suspicion and fear and sometimes even violence. May-Lee’s father eventually left his position (the administrators were more interested in working against him than in incorporating any of his ideas/plans), but the Chais were not able to sell their farm, so he found work in other cities, other states – commuting between Texas and South Dakota, Chicago and South Dakota. May-Lee and her brother were left to their own devices to protect themselves from hostile and unfriendly neighbors and townsfolk. Meanwhile, they made a go of turning their property into a working farm – lots of hard work. May-Lee dreamt constantly of the day she’d be old enough to leave South Dakota. Once she graduated, May-Lee spent most of her time away from home – arranging internships, studies abroad, and employment, so she would not have to return to South Dakota. Finally, her parents received a cash offer for their house and were able to unload it and May-Lee’s father found another position in Wyoming (after the South Dakota administrators retired/moved on and stopped blackballing his career).
While May-Lee’s story is a little bit about being Chinese, it is mostly about how she and her family were terrorized while they lived in South Dakota. Her experiences were as recent as the 1980s and 1990s, and I was shocked, embarrassed, and angry at her family’s treatment. How DARE they? You would think that if the local element hated her family so much they would have been eager to see them go – but that wasn’t the case. They made it impossible for Winberg to find work in an academic setting, and they made it impossible for them to sell their farm (no loans to purchase the property were ever approved). It’s as though they were out to destroy the Chais. It was particularly difficult, because Winberg didn’t understand how bad things were at home during the time he was working out of state – something that drove May-Lee crazy years later when she and her father would argue. May-Lee’s experiences studying abroad in China helped her to understand the fear and prejudice in her home town a little better – but not really enough to forgive the people who killed her dogs, stared at her in the streets, and made her teenage years hell.
I would not have called this manuscript “Hapa Girl.” “Hapa” has so many positive connotations for me, being hapa myself, and living among many hapa friends and family. And May-Lee’s story is so sad and infuriating. She should have been free to embrace whatever aspects of her ancestry she wanted – Chinese heritage, Irish heritage, hapa heritage. But fear and outrage forced her to keep her thoughts to herself, her head down, enduring until she could just.get.out. Her parents were powerless to do anything about it, too. Not only were they unable to get out, but they also never talked to May-Lee or Jeff about racism, or what they were going through. The kids felt like they were completely on their own against the rest of the town, that they had to protect themselves because no one else was going to do it. While I sympathize with their situation, I wonder if it wouldn’t have been better for everyone in the long run to have cut their losses sooner. May-Lee eventually finds a two-page outline for a book her mother considered writing – based on their experiences in South Dakota – that finally acknowledged her experience, their experiences, and it was this acknowledgment (that her mother knew and understood) that helped her overcome some of her lingering negative feelings. This was an excellent memoir (just don’t expect it to be uplifting!) that gets you itchy in all the right places to go after racism and oppression.
"And so I began to write about the things I thought I would never tell another soul as long as I lived, because I realized that my mother would have wanted me to do so. I would not be embarrassing my family, as I had felt for so many years. I would, at last, be telling the story of how our mixed-race family moved from the New York metropolitan area to a rural community fearful of change, were attacked savagely, yet found a way to survive."
This book is a memoir of a woman's childhood growing up with a Chinese father and a white mother in a small town in South Dakota, where small town hospitality is not extended to outsiders, foreign devils, Japs or Chinks, all of which they are perceived to be.
May-lee Chai does a good job of capturing the experience of racism at an age where race doesn't even exist. She also weaves in historical events to perhaps explain or at least put into context the behaviors and attitudes of people. The last chapters, in which an older Chai realizes, post Tiananmen Square, that there is a universal fear of change and what is "different," seem an abrupt departure from the younger voice, however it also signifies this is not a short or easy story to tell...
Often times the Asian American story is diluted by desires to "save face" and keep dirty laundry hidden, making Chai's honest story-telling even more refreshing.
This adult memoir is a little bitter and I'm not all that thrilled that I read it. Chai is 1/2 Chinese and 1/2 Caucasian. She had an ideal childhood in California until she moved to South Dakota and encountered racism. She was teased, her dogs were shot, and the locals made their lives miserable. Yep, they did. And she used grades and her smarts to last her throughout high school. But, I thought she was awfully whiny.
This was being passed around our knitting group where some actually remembered the family, since this is set in our town. I do believe things are better here 30-some years later.
Familiarity with diversity made me confused about why it was celebrated so much - I used to think diversity was accepted everywhere, that it had been normal for centuries. This book opened my eyes to a world filled with hatred, fear, and discrimination that had existed less than a century ago. It wasn't that I was completely ignorant about prejudice. I knew about various events in history, of the movements that took place, and of the change the world went - and still is going - through. But learning it through a lesson or a textbook is completely different compared to reading a book by someone who experienced it first-hand. The beautiful imagery and careful descriptions in this book really brought the moments to life for me, and I'm anxious to see how May-lee Chai's other books compare.
This is the memoir of a girl whose mom is white and dad is Chinese. Her family moved to a small college town in South Dakota and faced racism there--not just racism against Asians, but also racism against Native Americans, which her brother was often mistaken for. The book is also about her family and farm life (there is a whole chapter on cannibal chickens.) In the end, she concludes that racism is all around the world and not just a South Dakota problem (something small-town white South Dakotans will probably be relieved to know! This book does not portray them in a flattering light.)
May-Lee Chai's likable narrator takes us through her life as a biracial child (Chinese father, Irish-American mother) growing up in a racist South Dakota. In the memoir, Chai intertwines her own experiences with the history of Native Americans' and others' battles with discrimination, hate crimes, etc.
The voice is incredibly companionable and the book is both easy to read (because of the voice) and difficult because of its content. A worthwhile pick.
Chai skillfully weaves facts, memories, and experiences into her memoir of being a mixed-race Asian girl in a small - and racist - South Dakota town. The historical perspective of discrimination against Asian-Americans is excellent. Chai's recollections are also touching and interesting, but I couldn't give this book a perfect rating because bitterness still clouds many of her memories, so it ends up sounding very subjective.
Loved the photo of May-lee and her pig! After reading this, I thought, I'm glad we don't live in South Dakota. I'm saving this for my biracial son to read when he's older, and I'm hoping there will be more books like this by May-lee Chai and others.
I thought this was a captivating novel. The author is a great writer. I really liked that there were pictures in the novel. It gave me a visual of what the family looked like. The memoir was very nicely detailed and enjoyable.
Read this book, for you will love Winberg and will be just as excited as I was to find his bio on the University of Wyoming website (and his Twitter!).
No one knows how difficult life can be for those who look a little bit different from the standard white small town folk. It amazes me how humans can be so afraid of those who are different and then instead of allowing them to be, they feel the need to lash out with ugliness. With breathtaking honesty, May-lee gives us all insight into how difficult that was for her and her brother growing up in small town South Dakota.
We, too, are a blended family. We adopted our daughter from China in the 90’s and I have always been sensitive to the possibility of “otherness” being a problem for her. Luckily, in our Chapel Hill, NC community, there were many Asian families so that she did not stand out, but once we left our town and went out into the North Carolina country, folks would stare and point and one old man even came up to me in a store and stared at us with a questioning look. I quickly took my daughter out of the store (she was only 3 at the time), but it taught me a lesson and encouraged me to have conversations with her from time to see if she was experiencing any issues.
Thank you, May-lee, for your honesty, your humor, your insights and your courage.
The Chinatown branch of the SF library has a great selection of literature, I should go more frequently. Hapa Girl is a mix of reflections on family tension, the isolation of small-town farming life, and the desire to move to places of opportunity and diversity. I found the author's perspective of moving from California to South Dakota to be a clear example of the deeper understanding of identity that is retained when someone has sufficiently diverse community from a young age.
The conclusion in Nanjing, set against the backdrop of late 1980s pro-change democracy protests in China alongside nativist unrest, makes it clear that the author's family's experiences of harrassment in the US stem from a universal fear of uncertainty, represented by and targeted at the other, whether in the form of Japanese economic growth, a Chinese American professor, or native American itinerant laborers.
This memoir felt a little bit unpolished and in a way that quality really drew me in. It felt real (yet simplified and superficial, as if aimed at young children?) and even a little un-PC at times, so I felt like I was really getting a taste of a different era. I was partly motivated to read this book because it's about a half-Chinese & half-white girl (just like me) growing up about 20 years before I did. So it was interesting to contrast her experience with my own. I was fascinated by the bits of history sprinkled throughout... Native American/white race relations in South Dakota, American fear of Japanese people, '60s campus activism, little bits about China opening up in the 1980s, etc. The book was sort of scattered and seemed overly simplistic at times, though that may have been deliberate. I was fascinated by weird details, like what it's like to farm chickens and found myself trying to envision the family's "farm." The Chinese father is a real jerk at times and I saw hints of what I know to be true about the lingering damage that the Chinese "pretend everything is okay at all costs" mentality causes. Oh, and I feel a little embarrassed to admit this but I gleefully studied all the old photographs included in the book. I was intrigued because I think the author and her little brother look a good bit like me and my little brother! I enjoyed the book but would have liked it more if it had been aimed more at adults or gone a little deeper.