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Tell Me the Dream Again: Reflections on Family, Ethnicity, and the Sacred Work of Belonging
“This mesmerizes.” ― Publishers Weekly starred review
“I’ve always felt unfit as a Korean but somehow too Korean everywhere else.”
Tasha Jun has always been caught between American and Korean, faith and doubt, family devotion and fierce independence. As a Korean American, she wandered between seemingly opposing worlds, struggling to find a voice to speak and a firm place for her feet to land.
The world taught Tasha that her Korean normal was a barrier to belonging―that assimilation was the only way she would ever be truly accepted. But if that were true, did that mean God had made a mistake in knitting her together?
Told with tender honesty and compelling prose, Tell Me the Dream Again is a memoir-in-essays exploring We are not outsiders to God. When we let all the details of ourselves unfold―when we embrace who we were divinely knit together to be―this is when we’ll fully experience his perfect love.
“I’ve always felt unfit as a Korean but somehow too Korean everywhere else.”
Tasha Jun has always been caught between American and Korean, faith and doubt, family devotion and fierce independence. As a Korean American, she wandered between seemingly opposing worlds, struggling to find a voice to speak and a firm place for her feet to land.
The world taught Tasha that her Korean normal was a barrier to belonging―that assimilation was the only way she would ever be truly accepted. But if that were true, did that mean God had made a mistake in knitting her together?
Told with tender honesty and compelling prose, Tell Me the Dream Again is a memoir-in-essays exploring We are not outsiders to God. When we let all the details of ourselves unfold―when we embrace who we were divinely knit together to be―this is when we’ll fully experience his perfect love.
240 pages, Hardcover
Published May 9, 2023
31 people are currently reading
842 people want to read
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 132 reviews
June 2, 2024
I knew this author as a youth group mentor/Bible study leader. As an Exvangelical, there are few people from that time that I purposefully follow and engage with. Tasha is an exception. She remains rooted in the Evangelical faith of my upbringing, but she asks the kinds of questions that make it clear she is seeking an inclusive, kind, bold, and wise understanding.
It took me a year to sit down and read her book because I knew it would speak about Jesus and contain Biblical passages. It does. But I am so grateful to hear her story through her words—beautifully told—and reflect on how I can be a better listener as a reader and a friend. I especially loved her retold folk tale at the end and her musings about how her identity and traditions are carried forward by her children.
*Also*, I wanted to address the reader “Lizzy” who attacked Tasha in her comments:
Your description of growing “weary” with Jun’s conflicting emotions and bumpy trajectory to reconciling all aspects of her identity reminds me of a passage from this book:
“Once, when I asked a church leader if diversity was a value in their ministry, I was told, ‘Yes, but many people are weary from conversations about the importance of diversity.’ All I could think about was how bone weary my friends of color and I have been for years over the lack of priority given to diversity. Why is it okay for us to be weary but not okay for white brothers and sisters in the faith?”
I know this author personally. I would describe her as insightful and authentic. Your analysis of her words as “presumptuous”, “arrogant”, “narcissistic”, and “prideful” helps me better understand why Jun felt afraid to center her culture as an inextricable aspect of her faith.
It took me a year to sit down and read her book because I knew it would speak about Jesus and contain Biblical passages. It does. But I am so grateful to hear her story through her words—beautifully told—and reflect on how I can be a better listener as a reader and a friend. I especially loved her retold folk tale at the end and her musings about how her identity and traditions are carried forward by her children.
*Also*, I wanted to address the reader “Lizzy” who attacked Tasha in her comments:
Your description of growing “weary” with Jun’s conflicting emotions and bumpy trajectory to reconciling all aspects of her identity reminds me of a passage from this book:
“Once, when I asked a church leader if diversity was a value in their ministry, I was told, ‘Yes, but many people are weary from conversations about the importance of diversity.’ All I could think about was how bone weary my friends of color and I have been for years over the lack of priority given to diversity. Why is it okay for us to be weary but not okay for white brothers and sisters in the faith?”
I know this author personally. I would describe her as insightful and authentic. Your analysis of her words as “presumptuous”, “arrogant”, “narcissistic”, and “prideful” helps me better understand why Jun felt afraid to center her culture as an inextricable aspect of her faith.
April 19, 2023
Tasha’s poetic narrative is captivating, tender, and deeply human. She has gifted readers with stories that not only let us peek into life in her skin, but also invite us into a rich tapestry of belonging—past, present, and future. I didn’t want the book to end.
February 11, 2023
A tapestry of stories. A love letter to her mother. A journey of holy curiosity. An invitation to embrace the voice you’ve been given and the belonging that is yours. (Do not miss the epilogue.)
A few quotes:
“True unity requires whole people, full of their colors—and hard, holy, humbling work.”
“When Jesus revealed his resurrected self to the disciples on that melancholy morning, he did it not only by miraculously feeding them but also by reminding them that he was with them in every part of their humanity. Despite the shock and awe of his death-conquering deity, he made a meal.”
“We are not the saviors of our families, nor are we the ones meant to carry the full weight of their broken branches. We are those whose desperation for Jesus in the midst of our families’ brokenness creates paths of healing.”
A few quotes:
“True unity requires whole people, full of their colors—and hard, holy, humbling work.”
“When Jesus revealed his resurrected self to the disciples on that melancholy morning, he did it not only by miraculously feeding them but also by reminding them that he was with them in every part of their humanity. Despite the shock and awe of his death-conquering deity, he made a meal.”
“We are not the saviors of our families, nor are we the ones meant to carry the full weight of their broken branches. We are those whose desperation for Jesus in the midst of our families’ brokenness creates paths of healing.”
April 28, 2023
Truly a luminous debut. Tasha’s storytelling is tender and thoughtful, inviting us into not only her lived experiences, but a deeper Christian spirituality. I can’t recommend this stunning, compelling book of memoir essays enough. 🧡 It’s a needed book for our times.
May 27, 2023
Where do I begin? This book will help me be a better listener, a better friend. I'm naturally curious, so have the desire to learn more about other cultures, and celebrate what I learn, down, but know more about how different a person from another culture can feel. What the pressure to fit in feels like.To realize how multi-cultural people feel that tendency even more so. Especially as Christians, we need to find space in our communities for a glorious variety.
Bonus, I knew very little about Korean food. We found a great little restaurant near us, and I took a list of dishes mentioned in this book, and tried some great new foods! Did you know there was a white radish?
Bonus, I knew very little about Korean food. We found a great little restaurant near us, and I took a list of dishes mentioned in this book, and tried some great new foods! Did you know there was a white radish?
May 6, 2024
As I have been exploring this idea of belonging for the last few years, I haven't been able to find a book that speaks to my experiences as well as this book. Jun's reflections are thoughtful, tender, and poetic. It's made me want to pick up my journal again and explore past experiences and all the ways that God made me wholly me.
March 31, 2023
With fierce gentleness, Tasha Jun invites us to journey with her as she weaves her story as a biracial Korean woman alongside the age-old ache to belong. Through gorgeous prose, Jun masterfully reminds us that following in the way of Jesus invites us to become more of our God-given selves, not less. And that ultimately, it's in honoring the fullness of each of our ethnicities and particularities that we truly come to reflect the goodness and belovedness for which we were created.
May 3, 2023
I highly recommend Tell Me the Dream Again, it is full of insightful personal stories woven together throughout the book. Tasha’s experiences growing up as an Asian American really resonated with me - she was able to articulate similar emotions I felt growing up, and I never knew how to explain how I felt. And now as I’m raising biracial children, this book has helped me create my own notes and feelings that I’d like to share with them when they’re old enough and with my parents.
August 1, 2023
Beautiful. I listened to the audiobook and hearing Tasha Jun’s voice added to the beauty of the words. This book is a healing balm.
November 13, 2023
"I sat on the floor of her room, looking for clues. I read through her school notebooks and studied her handwriting, gripping everything in my lap as if someone or something might come at any moment to snatch it all away...after that much of my childhood was spent alone." A mother and a daughter relationship means everything to the devoted daughter of God. Korean-American Tasha Jun speaks the truth about her life and how she grew to love her mother throughout her book. At first, as a child she tried to hide her ethnicity. She wanted friends to see her as herself bereft of her mother's Korean food cooking, lifestyle and stories about the wars her family had known before America. As she matured, she began to find out that her ancestral heritage had formed who she was as a person. Her love for her mother began to outweigh her desire to fit in with a group.
As she slowly embraced her true background and the beauty of the culture of her mother she was able to open up to some friends about this. She decided during her first Germany ministerial assignment to cook some of the food of her culture for them. It went surprisingly well. "What I remember was being in our tiny kitchen, with the windows cranked open as hot oil spluttered and the dumplings fried into crispy triangles. I folded the skins around ground beef mixed with garlic and sesame oil, tofu, and veggies, and showed the friends who braved the kitchen with me how to fold them too. I told them that these weren't exactly the right shape while sweat dripped down my face and behind my ears." Jun grew up as many of us from other ethnic backgrounds on the folktales, food and unscored songs and music passed down through time by the word melodies of our mother's voice talking to us about life and the world.
From this, the very spark of imagination's caress is birthed. And the writer much as Tasha Jun did emerges from the dust. From a suppression of her dear and valuable ethnicity to an awareness of how precious the things of the earth that came from our generations such as the tales of Kongji passed down from the time of the Joseon Dynasty. A creature of absolute virtue she has no need for either forgiveness or grace. Her perfect and selfless servitude and natural beauty and purity remain to the end. A character model for Asian Americans, Jun wrote that immigrants thought that holding their head down and working hard and becoming selfless would help to facilitate the American Dream. "There are echoes of this narrative carrying into the Korean diaspora as the Asian American immigrant story merges with the American Dream. Kongji seems like the model of all good things - and the way to good things coming true."
Tasha Jun looks at the true and intimate details and events of the ghost stories of her mother. Are we not supposed to just get rid of ghost stories? It seems that some of the mysticism behind the Korean culture may merge to form the basis for a more surrealism way of life. After all, each culture has formed ideas and beliefs which are supposed to teach us about life. After finding God though, Tasha Jun becomes more tender toward her mother. And as you read the book as a whole you go on an empathy building-bridge journey between a Korean born mother and a Korean-American daughter. As a faithful and diligent woman, Tasha Jun's mother does her best to teach her childhood customs to her daughter through what she does and how she loves, and as she does Jun comes to a place where she understands that her mother has not just formed her for her best life, but that she has foddered a sure promise for the solid nurture of the soul of her child. From that comes a young woman who understands many things about her upbringing both through experience and wisdom and how she loves God deeply.
As she slowly embraced her true background and the beauty of the culture of her mother she was able to open up to some friends about this. She decided during her first Germany ministerial assignment to cook some of the food of her culture for them. It went surprisingly well. "What I remember was being in our tiny kitchen, with the windows cranked open as hot oil spluttered and the dumplings fried into crispy triangles. I folded the skins around ground beef mixed with garlic and sesame oil, tofu, and veggies, and showed the friends who braved the kitchen with me how to fold them too. I told them that these weren't exactly the right shape while sweat dripped down my face and behind my ears." Jun grew up as many of us from other ethnic backgrounds on the folktales, food and unscored songs and music passed down through time by the word melodies of our mother's voice talking to us about life and the world.
From this, the very spark of imagination's caress is birthed. And the writer much as Tasha Jun did emerges from the dust. From a suppression of her dear and valuable ethnicity to an awareness of how precious the things of the earth that came from our generations such as the tales of Kongji passed down from the time of the Joseon Dynasty. A creature of absolute virtue she has no need for either forgiveness or grace. Her perfect and selfless servitude and natural beauty and purity remain to the end. A character model for Asian Americans, Jun wrote that immigrants thought that holding their head down and working hard and becoming selfless would help to facilitate the American Dream. "There are echoes of this narrative carrying into the Korean diaspora as the Asian American immigrant story merges with the American Dream. Kongji seems like the model of all good things - and the way to good things coming true."
Tasha Jun looks at the true and intimate details and events of the ghost stories of her mother. Are we not supposed to just get rid of ghost stories? It seems that some of the mysticism behind the Korean culture may merge to form the basis for a more surrealism way of life. After all, each culture has formed ideas and beliefs which are supposed to teach us about life. After finding God though, Tasha Jun becomes more tender toward her mother. And as you read the book as a whole you go on an empathy building-bridge journey between a Korean born mother and a Korean-American daughter. As a faithful and diligent woman, Tasha Jun's mother does her best to teach her childhood customs to her daughter through what she does and how she loves, and as she does Jun comes to a place where she understands that her mother has not just formed her for her best life, but that she has foddered a sure promise for the solid nurture of the soul of her child. From that comes a young woman who understands many things about her upbringing both through experience and wisdom and how she loves God deeply.
May 10, 2023
Tasha has painted a masterpiece in Tell Me the Dream Again. Her poetic and honest storytelling draws us into the many layers of being mixed-race. As someone who identifies as a mixed-race Asian American Christian, I was able to explore my own multilayered story and identity on these pages. As the world continues to grow in mixed-race population, we all need this book!
January 19, 2024
Tell Me the Dream Again: Reflections on Family, Ethnicity, & the Sacred Work of Belonging, has something to share with anyone who picks up its pages.
Throughout her book, Jun continues to pull on the theme of coming home to yourself—and the way that journey looked for her uniquely as a biracial Korean woman growing up in the States. I would highly recommend this to anyone beginning to lean into the journey of becoming more of who you are, and learning more about where and who you come from.
Ultimately, Jun takes us all on a journey of what holy curiosity can look like not only when it comes to unlocking and unleashing the fullness of who you are, but even in what it looks like to question and to have the holy imagination to make space for your entire identity in every room.
Throughout her book, Jun continues to pull on the theme of coming home to yourself—and the way that journey looked for her uniquely as a biracial Korean woman growing up in the States. I would highly recommend this to anyone beginning to lean into the journey of becoming more of who you are, and learning more about where and who you come from.
Ultimately, Jun takes us all on a journey of what holy curiosity can look like not only when it comes to unlocking and unleashing the fullness of who you are, but even in what it looks like to question and to have the holy imagination to make space for your entire identity in every room.
June 26, 2023
i borrowed this book from my sister, and knowing that it’s on loan is the only reason i was able to successfully stop my tears from falling onto each page. to harmonize the two fighting songs within me, one that craves mashed potatoes and one that longs for jōk, is a journey i was scared to acknowledge. thank you Tasha for sharing your own journey, and thank you for reminding me of my belovedness in a way that feels more whole than before.
May 27, 2025
I’m preemptively flinching at posting this. A quick glance proves I am vastly outnumbered in my sigh of frustration after putting down this book. This had nothing to do with Jun as a person, and maybe not even Jun as a writer, but much to do with how the book’s form and style and purpose never decided what it wanted to be, and then bumbled the multi-genre attempt, if that was intended. If you try to do everything, you cannot accomplish anything. Critics of my critique may say, “But that’s the whole point! What she’s saying is she always feels caught in between!” And to this I say, with hope, “You can communicate that even more powerfully by settling on a form and sticking to it.”
Jun’s strongest writing in this title is the stuff of her actual memoir. Recounting foods her mother made, childhood memories of roaming the streets of Seoul, the toothpick story... That beautiful flow kept being interrupted by long-winded packaging of Jesus reflections to make sense of racial tensions and identity crises, or otherwise cut short to make way for some other brief tidbit of memory that wasn’t connected to its predecessor. I love a good gospel redemption story as much as my next fellow Christian, and so much of what she said about Christ’s presence with the marginalized was true and good and real. However, the way this book was structured, those parts about ministry and the Bible felt like cheap or even cheesy answers to something weighty and raw. It felt like Jun wasn’t willing to risk allowing her pain to take up more space on the page and in her readers’ hands.
Jun’s writing voice differed enough between forms that I kept getting jolted out of the experience. Anytime the narrative got to the top of a roller coaster, it was like an elevator came to take the cars back down to the bottom with an anticlimactic *thwump* rather than letting that adrenaline linger, letting the stories sit, letting us get to really know the characters (real people!) sitting next to us. Because of the skipping around, everything ended up feeling rushed. I wish this book could have been two or three different ones, each with their own focus and feel.
Jun is a poet. The vignettes validate such a gift. But together with the Tyndale stamp of approval (aka just enough Jesus language to make you feel a littleee silly), the work as a whole fell flat for me.
Jun’s strongest writing in this title is the stuff of her actual memoir. Recounting foods her mother made, childhood memories of roaming the streets of Seoul, the toothpick story... That beautiful flow kept being interrupted by long-winded packaging of Jesus reflections to make sense of racial tensions and identity crises, or otherwise cut short to make way for some other brief tidbit of memory that wasn’t connected to its predecessor. I love a good gospel redemption story as much as my next fellow Christian, and so much of what she said about Christ’s presence with the marginalized was true and good and real. However, the way this book was structured, those parts about ministry and the Bible felt like cheap or even cheesy answers to something weighty and raw. It felt like Jun wasn’t willing to risk allowing her pain to take up more space on the page and in her readers’ hands.
Jun’s writing voice differed enough between forms that I kept getting jolted out of the experience. Anytime the narrative got to the top of a roller coaster, it was like an elevator came to take the cars back down to the bottom with an anticlimactic *thwump* rather than letting that adrenaline linger, letting the stories sit, letting us get to really know the characters (real people!) sitting next to us. Because of the skipping around, everything ended up feeling rushed. I wish this book could have been two or three different ones, each with their own focus and feel.
Jun is a poet. The vignettes validate such a gift. But together with the Tyndale stamp of approval (aka just enough Jesus language to make you feel a littleee silly), the work as a whole fell flat for me.
May 4, 2023
Aptly named—because you’ll want to hear it again and again.
Both beautifully written and story-driven, Tasha’s perspective of being a biracial Korean brings a new look into the gospel. She speaks tenderly about belonging in life and faith, and she also courageously speaks about identity.
As a non-white Christian, she brought words to my own story in a way that I haven’t heard. Truly, a breath of fresh air. While showcasing joy, she also highlighted some of the more painful moments of wrestling with faith when you’re not part of the majority culture. She tells us about how Jesus works in the ghost stories—but she also shows what it looks like.
But really—the masterful storytelling will capture your attention. You’ll honestly want this dream told to you again and again. It’s my favorite book this year.
Both beautifully written and story-driven, Tasha’s perspective of being a biracial Korean brings a new look into the gospel. She speaks tenderly about belonging in life and faith, and she also courageously speaks about identity.
As a non-white Christian, she brought words to my own story in a way that I haven’t heard. Truly, a breath of fresh air. While showcasing joy, she also highlighted some of the more painful moments of wrestling with faith when you’re not part of the majority culture. She tells us about how Jesus works in the ghost stories—but she also shows what it looks like.
But really—the masterful storytelling will capture your attention. You’ll honestly want this dream told to you again and again. It’s my favorite book this year.
May 1, 2023
What I’ll remember most about Tasha Jun’s lyrical book are the telling details she uses to draw me in. Jun, a biracial Korean-American woman, makes me see the significance of a nylon washcloth, a toothpick clutched in the hand of her cousin, and a box of Sanrio stationary. In those specifics—and in the sometimes heartrending memories they evoke—I came to know Jun.
Jun also called me to become more fully myself. Especially in white Christian spaces, Jun often hid her Asianness. As she experiences freedom from that shame, she invited me to consider how I can risk others truly knowing me.
In addition, Jun’s book reveals the blessing of knowing our neighbors well—especially neighbors of a different ethnicity. Throughout the book, Jun’s Koreanness inspired what Barbara Brown Taylor called “holy envy” in me. Learning about the strengths, griefs, and stories of Korean culture made the world—and my heart—bigger.
If you’re looking for a book that will inspire you to see others in all their particular glory, Jun’s book is a wonderful place to begin.
Jun also called me to become more fully myself. Especially in white Christian spaces, Jun often hid her Asianness. As she experiences freedom from that shame, she invited me to consider how I can risk others truly knowing me.
In addition, Jun’s book reveals the blessing of knowing our neighbors well—especially neighbors of a different ethnicity. Throughout the book, Jun’s Koreanness inspired what Barbara Brown Taylor called “holy envy” in me. Learning about the strengths, griefs, and stories of Korean culture made the world—and my heart—bigger.
If you’re looking for a book that will inspire you to see others in all their particular glory, Jun’s book is a wonderful place to begin.
September 2, 2023
Jun's difficult and heartfelt reflections in her life provides courage for me to confront my own- to dig up the memories I've long forgotten (or maybe repressed) and realize that much of the thoughts of not belonging are learned experiences, and God can and will meet them with gentle but grounded truth. I hope many readers can (re)discover that sacred work of redeeming memories through this book, being filled with harshly specific stories paired with wholeheartedly honest emotions of anger and lament.
Having barriers to belong, due to internal childhood or external expectations - from immigrant parents, grade school classmates, church community, adult friends, foreign homelanders, and romantic relationships - is necessary to identify to come to the conclusion that God did not somehow mess up in His creation of bicultural people- and the good, hard, and sacred work of embracing that design is worth it.
A great book for those discovering where the intersection of their faith and their culture(s) are, and how that impacts both.
Having barriers to belong, due to internal childhood or external expectations - from immigrant parents, grade school classmates, church community, adult friends, foreign homelanders, and romantic relationships - is necessary to identify to come to the conclusion that God did not somehow mess up in His creation of bicultural people- and the good, hard, and sacred work of embracing that design is worth it.
A great book for those discovering where the intersection of their faith and their culture(s) are, and how that impacts both.
February 8, 2024
One of the most profoundly moving books I have read in a long time. I lost count of the times I cried reading Tasha Jun’s account of learning to love all the facets of her Korean American self as she came to realize that’s how God loves her.
Being Chinese Canadian, there was so much I resonated with in her story. Until I read her words articulating the generational grief she carried, I didn’t realize how deep the grief went for me. I am but one generation removed from war, famine, and terrifying trauma - and whether I have acknowledged it or not, it has shaped who I am, starting with my DNA. Reading her words felt like an invitation toward healing.
If you navigate the world in between cultures, or if you know someone who does, this is a book for you.
Being Chinese Canadian, there was so much I resonated with in her story. Until I read her words articulating the generational grief she carried, I didn’t realize how deep the grief went for me. I am but one generation removed from war, famine, and terrifying trauma - and whether I have acknowledged it or not, it has shaped who I am, starting with my DNA. Reading her words felt like an invitation toward healing.
If you navigate the world in between cultures, or if you know someone who does, this is a book for you.
May 4, 2024
Can I give this book 10 stars? I read through this book in a few days and need to go back and savour it slowly.
Tasha has written a stunning memoir woven with reflections on growing up between cultures as a biracial Korean-American both in the USA and Japan.
Her writing is beautiful, poetic, artistic in itself, and furthermore she beautifully describes this tension of navigating belonging as someone growing up in the “in-between.” I wept through much of her book, as the way she described this tension resonated deeply within me despite our upbringings and backgrounds being very different. I am so grateful for this beautiful book and would recommend it to everyone—more and more we have people growing up in the “in-between,” and conversations around identity and belonging can help us in the process of healing and reconciling those different parts of ourselves as well as revealing more of the beauty of God. Really grateful to Tasha for this book.
Tasha has written a stunning memoir woven with reflections on growing up between cultures as a biracial Korean-American both in the USA and Japan.
Her writing is beautiful, poetic, artistic in itself, and furthermore she beautifully describes this tension of navigating belonging as someone growing up in the “in-between.” I wept through much of her book, as the way she described this tension resonated deeply within me despite our upbringings and backgrounds being very different. I am so grateful for this beautiful book and would recommend it to everyone—more and more we have people growing up in the “in-between,” and conversations around identity and belonging can help us in the process of healing and reconciling those different parts of ourselves as well as revealing more of the beauty of God. Really grateful to Tasha for this book.
May 9, 2023
Tasha Jun shares hard-earned insights in this lyrical memoir about the struggles and the beauty of growing up biracial and bicultural in the United States. In beautiful poignant language, as a faith based writer she’s able to articulate the complexities along with the hope of her heritage and her faith. Her heart is soft, her words solid and her faith real.
As an immigrant from Latin America and a TCK (Third Culture Kid), I found myself sometimes nodding at the familiar feeling of being seen as foreign, often teared eyed witnessing her deeply human experience.
This book is an invitation into a personal story that instructs the heart as much as the mind. I recommend it wholeheartedly for the prose alone. But even more so for the learning experience to walk in the shoes of another and see the world from an angle different than our own.
As an immigrant from Latin America and a TCK (Third Culture Kid), I found myself sometimes nodding at the familiar feeling of being seen as foreign, often teared eyed witnessing her deeply human experience.
This book is an invitation into a personal story that instructs the heart as much as the mind. I recommend it wholeheartedly for the prose alone. But even more so for the learning experience to walk in the shoes of another and see the world from an angle different than our own.
May 8, 2023
I loved Tell Me the Dream Again! Tasha Jun invites readers on a raw journey of wrestling with faith, identity, and belonging that is captivating to read, while simultaneously beckoning you to examine the complexities and pain points of your own stories. Definitely recommend!
June 2, 2023
This book felt like coming home to a home I didn’t know I had.
April 3, 2024
Such a meaningful book that reminded me of the intention God created my roots, heritage, and ethnicity and the journey to embracing those things. Tasha’s words are poetic and powerful.
July 14, 2023
This book was very well written, Jun is obviously a gifted writer. It’s also apparent that she feels very deeply (she confirmed she is an Enna 4 on page 135) and I believe writing this book was probably a very cathartic thing for her.
With that being said, about halfway through I started to grow weary of reading it. Something about the way her stories were a whiplash of ‘damned if you do damned if you don’t.’ What I mean is she expressed hurt when a friend told her “I don’t see you as Asian” but then also was upset when people asked about her ethnicity; in another instance she complained that she felt forced into a mold she didn’t fit in order to do ministry but then when teammates affirmed other qualities in her outside this mold she felt ashamed they were seeing her “Asian-ness.” Then she recounted a story where another minority woman expressed a different opinion than hers regarding perspectives on race and stated, “I felt the need to defend my words, but as I responded that day, I sensed that I was actually defending both of us, no matter how varied our understanding and experience seemed to be.” I found this to be an incredibly presumptuous and arrogant claim to make, especially after spending numerous chapters trying to convey her lived experience to others so they might understand.
I genuinely went into this book with an open mind and willingness to learn, and started the book really enjoying and appreciating it’s perspective, but I left feeling like this was a very narcissistic book in which Jun bemoaned consistently being misunderstood or unseen for who she not merely was but has since become as an adult. So although she as a child didn’t allow friends over in fear or shame of them seeing her heritage and culture, she now as an adult resents the instances where others - in her childhood and young adult life - didn’t make her feel seen and/or accepted as the identity of an Asian woman she has settled into in her adulthood.
Ultimately, this book is an example of the prideful temptation to feel that in life we are entitled to be understood (by others as we would desire them to understand us).
With that being said, about halfway through I started to grow weary of reading it. Something about the way her stories were a whiplash of ‘damned if you do damned if you don’t.’ What I mean is she expressed hurt when a friend told her “I don’t see you as Asian” but then also was upset when people asked about her ethnicity; in another instance she complained that she felt forced into a mold she didn’t fit in order to do ministry but then when teammates affirmed other qualities in her outside this mold she felt ashamed they were seeing her “Asian-ness.” Then she recounted a story where another minority woman expressed a different opinion than hers regarding perspectives on race and stated, “I felt the need to defend my words, but as I responded that day, I sensed that I was actually defending both of us, no matter how varied our understanding and experience seemed to be.” I found this to be an incredibly presumptuous and arrogant claim to make, especially after spending numerous chapters trying to convey her lived experience to others so they might understand.
I genuinely went into this book with an open mind and willingness to learn, and started the book really enjoying and appreciating it’s perspective, but I left feeling like this was a very narcissistic book in which Jun bemoaned consistently being misunderstood or unseen for who she not merely was but has since become as an adult. So although she as a child didn’t allow friends over in fear or shame of them seeing her heritage and culture, she now as an adult resents the instances where others - in her childhood and young adult life - didn’t make her feel seen and/or accepted as the identity of an Asian woman she has settled into in her adulthood.
Ultimately, this book is an example of the prideful temptation to feel that in life we are entitled to be understood (by others as we would desire them to understand us).
April 25, 2024
I had a love hate relationship with this one. I almost DNFed it because of the amount of religious content.
I was also really bothered by two different (factually inaccurate) statements she made - one regarding American history and the other regarding hair texture.
But damn if I didn't see myself in some of the passages!
The author of Tell Me the Dream Again, Tasha Jun, speaks about her experience growing up biracial. If you have ever struggled with the suppression and assimilation between two cultures - you'll relate to pieces of their story. As a transnational, transracial adoptee I was raised in a white household and knew little to nothing about my Korean culture/heritage. It wasn't until adulthood that I recognized how much I struggled accepting my Koreanness and being #AsianEnough as a result of that. When Jun writes about her struggle between her mother and father's culture - I felt it deeply.
The bulk of her memoir was on Tasha trying to find her place inside of the Christian church while members told her that her identity and culture was not important to her faith. It also had themes of racism, generational trauma, family, and food.
I was also really bothered by two different (factually inaccurate) statements she made - one regarding American history and the other regarding hair texture.
But damn if I didn't see myself in some of the passages!
The author of Tell Me the Dream Again, Tasha Jun, speaks about her experience growing up biracial. If you have ever struggled with the suppression and assimilation between two cultures - you'll relate to pieces of their story. As a transnational, transracial adoptee I was raised in a white household and knew little to nothing about my Korean culture/heritage. It wasn't until adulthood that I recognized how much I struggled accepting my Koreanness and being #AsianEnough as a result of that. When Jun writes about her struggle between her mother and father's culture - I felt it deeply.
The bulk of her memoir was on Tasha trying to find her place inside of the Christian church while members told her that her identity and culture was not important to her faith. It also had themes of racism, generational trauma, family, and food.
January 8, 2023
Growing up in the US, Tasha Jun felt the requirement to play up her American-ness and to hide her Korean-ness. This split identity caused her great pain as she felt she could never fully be known by her US friends - she always had something to hide - which led to loneliness. Jun traces this back, in part, to the racist US laws prohibiting mixed race marriages (only repealed in the 1960s). In Korea, visiting family, things weren’t any better: she couldn’t speak Korean, her mum always had to explain that she was her daughter and she was even spat on by some local kids for being bi-racial.
Jun’s cri-de-coeur is that we recognise cultural differences and celebrate these different cultures rather than asking the minority to erase themselves. Someone shouldn’t be ashamed that they eat, e.g. kimchi, or that, in their culture, families share a bath together. Yet that was Jun’s experience and, with her own children in the US, she’s determined that these mistakes won’t be repeated. They’re learning Korean together and Jun’s grappling with Korean cooking having spent years refusing to eat Korean food.
Jun’s process of healing and becoming whole explicitly comes from her Christian faith and wrestling with the gap between God’s love of diversity and the church’s imperfect living out of that theology. In her journey to wholeness, finding fellow travellers also wrestling with how to be both Asian and American has been a great help and encouragement.
As someone who’s part of her country’s ethnic majority, this book has challenged me to think how I encourage my friends from different backgrounds to share their lives with me and how important it is to affirm (wherever possible) that these different approaches/foods are good.
Jun’s cri-de-coeur is that we recognise cultural differences and celebrate these different cultures rather than asking the minority to erase themselves. Someone shouldn’t be ashamed that they eat, e.g. kimchi, or that, in their culture, families share a bath together. Yet that was Jun’s experience and, with her own children in the US, she’s determined that these mistakes won’t be repeated. They’re learning Korean together and Jun’s grappling with Korean cooking having spent years refusing to eat Korean food.
Jun’s process of healing and becoming whole explicitly comes from her Christian faith and wrestling with the gap between God’s love of diversity and the church’s imperfect living out of that theology. In her journey to wholeness, finding fellow travellers also wrestling with how to be both Asian and American has been a great help and encouragement.
As someone who’s part of her country’s ethnic majority, this book has challenged me to think how I encourage my friends from different backgrounds to share their lives with me and how important it is to affirm (wherever possible) that these different approaches/foods are good.
May 5, 2023
I said it best in my foreword but this is the one book I joyfully paused my "hermit-esque" writing/social media sabbatical to endorse. Tasha is a brilliant yet nuanced writer, who is equal parts poet and storyteller. If indeed the pen is mightier than the sword, she wields it with precision. Her lyrical voice is powerful and incisive but instead of a bludgeon, she effortlessly woos with her words. I told her once, I'd read anything she writes and after reading her manuscript, that truth still holds.
"When Tasha shared her dreams for this book, I championed her voice and begged for
the opportunity to gobble up the pages because I knew the best books don’t just give us
a glimpse into someone else’s story, they help us reveal our own. I knew her words
would be nourishment for my soul, like seaweed soup (miyeokguk), a healing salve for
new growth, for flourishing, for rebirth. A love song to all of us who haven’t always
been taught we are fearfully and wonderfully made."
"When Tasha shared her dreams for this book, I championed her voice and begged for
the opportunity to gobble up the pages because I knew the best books don’t just give us
a glimpse into someone else’s story, they help us reveal our own. I knew her words
would be nourishment for my soul, like seaweed soup (miyeokguk), a healing salve for
new growth, for flourishing, for rebirth. A love song to all of us who haven’t always
been taught we are fearfully and wonderfully made."
June 30, 2024
Poignant truth telling and vivid storytelling. Tasha Jun excellently weaves the simplicity and intricacies of her experiences, so that we all feel the depth and meaning of her life. Hopefully, her example will give us the courage to be able to search within ourselves and express the experiences of our lives, so that we might be able to encourage and impact others. Too often people of color and bi/multiracial individuals are setup as the examples or standards of their entire race, culture, or ethnicity by the majority. Tasha Jun tells her individual story, not to be the standard, but to help bring insight and understanding, so that we might all accept each other for who we are as individuals and as people, loving our uniquenesses and differences.
Absolute MUST READ!
Absolute MUST READ!
June 29, 2024
A beautiful and thoughtful memoir, interlaced with biblical stories, Jun expresses her innermost thoughts on growing up biracial and how Christianity has given her hope and purpose despite her struggles.
Each chapter Jun explores the past that shaped her while giving clear, compelling biblical examples of faith. She shows us that our identities can be found in something higher than ourselves, that our uniqueness is a treasured virtue and that we are not alone. She encourages us all to explore our own story and those of others. We all have a meaningful story to tell.
Each chapter Jun explores the past that shaped her while giving clear, compelling biblical examples of faith. She shows us that our identities can be found in something higher than ourselves, that our uniqueness is a treasured virtue and that we are not alone. She encourages us all to explore our own story and those of others. We all have a meaningful story to tell.
November 17, 2023
This book was well written but I did not realize it was going to be very dedicated to talking about God and her journey in Christianity…
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