Memoir

Chapter V: Costco

Costco


To this day, I still feel like there is one specific date that has changed the course of me and my family’s lives forever. I don’t really know how each of my family members think of it exactly other than it definitely being a dark spot in our history, and since writing this I haven’t asked them about it because it’s somewhat of a taboo in our culture to ‘talk about our feelings’ (Asian traditional values shun the idea of expressing ‘negative’ feelings because it is seen as burdensome, and that we should ignore it and keep it pushing). Maybe one day I’ll ask when I feel ready, but for right now, I keep these feelings to myself as I am still navigating the effects of that incident and the aftermath as a young adult, even after more than a decade since it occurred. In short, this event is what I deem as the moment I was forcefully evicted from my childhood and involuntarily placed into a kind of premature adulthood that I don’t wish on anyone—especially so abruptly and so early in life.

~~~

My dad, along with many other Chinese people claimed that 2008 was going to be a very special and lucky year. Chinese people tend to be superstitious and keep to traditions: such as not sweeping the house near Lunar New Year to keep in the ‘good luck’ (this includes showering, as well), making sure that your hair is blow-dried completely after washing your hair otherwise you will get terrible headaches when you are older, and the moderation of eating ‘hot’ and ‘cold’ foods to make sure that your body is in harmonious balance, which is called yeet hay. But most importantly, the number eight is a strong indication of good fortune—it’s so serious that if you ask the Department of Licensing in China to have some number eights on your car’s license plate, you will be charged extra to have it done. So with this in mind and the Olympics being held in Beijing on August 8th, 2008 (08/08/2008, triple eights!), you can see why so many had a good feeling about the year. As the eldest child of a Chinese father who was always eager to be more in tune with my cultural identity, I strongly believed that 2008 was going to be lucky, too, for at least a little more than half of that year. I can remember the exact date of when I finally gave up that optimism, along with other things: October 14th, 2008—my little sister’s fifth birthday.

A little over a month prior to Kristina’s birthday, I had just turned nine years old and started the third grade, and my brother, John, who was two years younger than me had finally graduated kindergarten and entered first grade. One thing that I am glad my parents did was have children close in age with one another—I have no idea how my poor mom did it, but it made my childhood happier having siblings and growing up together around the same time more or less. My mom loves repeating this one story to family and friends about when I was only a year old and we lived back in Salem, Oregon. I was the first and only child of Priscy Tan and Andy Zhen—a child born out of wedlock to parents that came from two different countries, my mom being from the Philippines and my dad from southern China, near Hong Kong. According to my mom, I would always press my face flat against the window just to watch the other children playing outside, and I would do this for long periods of time—all the time. She said that she started feeling bad for me because I had no one to play with, and that is allegedly why I have two younger siblings now. While I view my relationship with my mother as one that is strained, I will always revere her as an extremely resilient and strong woman; this is an objective truth and there is no denying that. Above all else, she is selfless. Maybe we don’t get along easily because deep down we are too similar, we just have a different way of approaching things—we are both the eldest daughters in our families, after all. You know, forced parentification in a household that prioritizes collectivism and whatnot.

I remember walking home with my brother after school that fateful Tuesday. What I had originally thought was going to be a fun day spent with my family for my baby sister’s birthday had turned into my very first and darkest reality check of my life. Psychologists say that trauma happens when someone’s worldview comes crashing down entirely due to newfound knowledge of a reality that challenges or outrightly rejects what the person had originally thought as fact or truth. At just nine years of age, my brain chemistry changed completely, for better or for worse.

With my key I’ve attached to a very cute but beat-up white lanyard with outlines of neon bears, I unlocked the door to our house and John and I stepped inside. We took off our shoes and walked up the stairs to our section of the house. In my youth, my mom’s sister, Lily, lived with us and her three boys, taking up the bottom section of the house with all of us sharing the kitchen on the second story where we lived. My brother and I expected both of our parents to be home since we planned on celebrating Kristina’s birthday, but neither my mom or my sister were anywhere to be found. My dad was always working, but he took the day off just for his youngest daughter’s special day. Confused, I went downstairs to ask Auntie Lily where they were.

“Don’t you know what happened?” she said in an almost incredulous tone. In retrospect as a young adult now, the fact that she asked in such a rude tone while knowing she was about to change the life of a nine year old’s life entirely still boggles my mind (please be nice to children, despite whatever negative reservations one may have about their own parent).

“No? What happened? Me and John just got home and usually mom and Ina are home, too. Where’s Papa?”

“Your dad just got arrested.” Auntie Lily said monotonously.

…

What?

Papa got arrested? Why? How? What happened?

There’s no way that this is real. This has to be a terrible joke. My dad is a good person, why on Earth would he get arrested?

I screamed from shock. I started bawling.

My kid brain couldn’t wrap my head around what I just heard. I had never experienced the loss of a family member in my life yet, and to be forced to believe that my dad was suddenly gone with no clear indication of what would happen as a result of his arrest is something I did not have the tools to make sense of.

Since the first grade, I was entrusted by my parents to walk home alone after school. And I remember constantly being told by my dad that if for some reason I was ever stopped by the police and asked where I live, or more specifically where my dad lives, do not answer them—either lie or pretend you don’t know what they’re saying, and don’t let them follow you. I remember always asking him why I had to do that. Understandably, he would get annoyed and say, “Baaa, don’t ask, just do,” but I do recall once where he didn’t avoid my questioning.

“You too small to understand now, Meili ah…” Whenever my dad felt frustrated or overwhelmed, he sighed and rubbed his eyes and face with both of his hands.

“You still just a kid. Later, when you older, you will understand.”

~~~

I called my mom’s cell phone using the home phone and was immediately met with sounds of wailing sobs—the kind of crying that leaves a deep, empty pit in your stomach and you get a terribly uneasy feeling all around your body because it feels like your blood has turned cold from fear. This is the first time I have ever heard my mom cry, and it feels so indescribably painful. Children seeing their parents cry for the first time is a profoundly sobering experience.

“Mom, mom, where are you and Ina? Where is Papa?” I asked panickedly. My mom tried to soothe herself by slowing her breathing.

“Your papa just got arrested,” she managed to stifle through tears.

“What? What happened? What did he do? Where are you guys?”

“I am at your grandma’s house in Shoreline, talking to her and your Auntie Anita about what to do. Papa, Ina, and I went to Costco to get things for your sister’s birthday and we parked in the parking lot.”

She paused so that she can cry some more before continuing.

“A big, black car parked next to us and once we got out to go shopping, two men in uniforms stopped Papa and arrested him.” She wailed some more. It is extremely heartbreaking listening to your parent cry, especially growing up with the toxic traditional notion that crying is a sign of weakness. If my mom who I clung onto for safety is in a state of vulnerability and my dad is nowhere to be found, who could I turn to?

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. My life isn’t like the movies. I am a normal, nine year old girl with a good, law-abiding father. This doesn’t happen to people like me.

“Why did he get arrested?” I asked, trying to get my questions out before my cries interrupted me.

“Your papa… he was not born here in America, like you and your siblings. He is an illegal alien. The government doesn’t like people like him because he did not come here properly, so ICE took him.”

This was so much information for a nine year old to take in at once. Earlier today I was practicing cursive and reading Diary of a Wimpy Kid during silent reading time, and here I am now, learning the dark and cold truth about how cruel America can be to those who are undocumented. They adhere to the idea that all immigrants with no papers are ill-intentioned, evil people, looking to taint the precious values and legacy of the United States. I still had so many questions, but the most important thing I wanted to know was if Papa was coming back home soon.

~~~

October 14th, 2008 is a date that is forever engraved in my brain because it has permeated through just about every aspect of my life. A day that was supposed to be filled with food, fun, and the warmth of my family in celebration of my baby sister’s fifth birthday tragically became a nightmare at the hands of the American legal system that would haunt us indefinitely. On a seemingly normal Tuesday, the United States through ICE singlehandedly traumatized the ever living fuck out of me and my entire family—the egregious injustice being so strong that it shook my relatives to their core overseas. My childhood was wrongfully taken away from me and my innocence perished along it. And while my two younger siblings may have been too young at the time to fully grasp the severity and effects of the situation in comparison to their big sister, it upsets me greatly that they had their childhood stolen, too. October 14th, 2008 is what I denote as the drastic shift of my consciousness as a third-grader’s to something too mature and complex for me to handle at nine years old, but I had no other choice. This is the inhumanity that the United States hides under the facade of claiming they are protecting their citizens, but let it be known they are only tearing families apart due to thinly veiled xenophobia and needlessly burdening children by forcing them to grow up way too soon.

I feel bad for writing this, like it’s Kristina’s fault or something, but quite literally my sister’s fifth birthday was a day full of unsuspected turmoil that marked an agonizing road ahead of our family. Even after almost 16 years later, we still have to confront its echoes from time to time. In all this devastation however, I can say one good thing came out of it: October 14th, 2008 is the day that radicalized me for the rest of my life.

Chapter Summaries

Exceptionally Beautiful: A Memoir by Meili Zhen

A memoir that recounts the real and lived experiences of Meili Zhen (甄美丽—literal translation: “exceptionally beautiful”) from youth to young adulthood as the eldest of three children to a Chinese father and Filipina mother. Chapters are aptly titled after locations of significance to each vignette. In this coming-of-age story that includes navigating one’s multiple identities as a queer second-generation Asian-American, you will find laughter, pain, disgust, and astonishment throughout all these anecdotes. But above all else, this is a memoir about resilience and strength—existing authentically and speaking one’s truth in a world that enforces suppression is one of the greatest and most radical acts of reclaiming space and power.


List of the to-be missing chapters and their summaries:


Table of Contents



1. Chapter I: In my head, or rather, brain

This chapter starts off the book lightheartedly with a description of who the author is, such as identity, background, and what makes them think they are qualified to write a memoir when their 25th birthday hasn’t even passed yet. Zhen explains that while they understand they have many years of life ahead of them to gather wisdom and experience, unforgettable moments in life do not wait on anyone simply because they are too young. The world waits for nobody, and unfortunately sometimes it pushes you to grow up faster than you can keep up with it. Zhen then explains how she always wanted to write about or make a movie about her experiences because she knew even as a young child, she faced harsh injustices, but felt like it was conceited of her to think that anyone would want to read about her life. After taking a college class about the power of feminist writing, she came to the realization that it is important to write stories that make people feel seen, and to let others become aware of such cruelty within the world. Lastly, Zhen explains that thanks to her love of poignant films, she views her memories in the context of locations—when she passes by places where an event or feeling took place, especially with others, she claims that it is like looking at ghosts or sprites reenacting that memory, just like in Interstellar. This is why every chapter is named after a location—it is tied to a memory.


2. Chapter II: Marion County Courthouse

Zhen gives the reader some context about how her parents met in Salem of all places in the world despite them coming from two different countries. The two could not communicate properly with each other at first because her father only knew English that he learned from watching American movies from the 80s and 90s, but was able to court her mom successfully through food. At the time, Zhen’s mother was married to an old American man for the sole reason of moving to the states so that she could send money back home to her family, a dream that is instilled in every Filipino that is determined to be successful. After a period of dating behind her husband’s back, Zhen’s mom eventually got pregnant but continued to hide her pregnancy until it couldn’t be hidden anymore. Zhen was born a week before her parents got married at the courthouse, making her child out of wedlock. Finally, Zhen writes that she doesn’t have many memories of Salem since her family shortly moved to Portland, but retells one of her mom’s favorite stories about losing Zhen for a little while after the wedding, prompting a search for them and is found safe with her grandma.


3. Chapter III: Dayton Ave

As a toddler, Zhen and her family would frequently visit her grandma’s house in Shoreline multiple times a week so that her dad could talk to his sister, Anita, and his mom, who Zhen and her siblings refers to as ‘Mama’ as per her dad’s orders while the rest of her cousins called her po po. Mama is described as a short and frail Chinese woman with gray curls and thin-framed gold bifocals who was always seen in the kitchen cooking something. She did not speak any English and Zhen did not speak any Cantonese, making verbal communication nonexistent. However, the unconditional love and care was always apparent through acts of service between the two, like Mama always feeding Zhen and her siblings, and Zhen always making sure that her hand was held when crossing the street and offering her warm water.


4. Chapter IV: Dumaguete

Near Zhen’s sixth birthday, her mom, brother, and sister along with Auntie Lily and her three sons take a trip to the Philippines to visit their mom’s side of the family. Zhen’s dad did not come along on the trip, believing that Papa had to stay home and take care of the house and work. The four Zhens stay in the Philippines for two weeks, and during this time, Zhen becomes more aware of how different they and their siblings look in comparison to their mom and Filipino cousins. Throughout the trip, Zhen’s mom reminds her to constantly wear sunscreen to avoid getting tan, and to be careful of strangers that are staring because “they want to come back to America with us.” This is Zhen’s first encounter with colorism, specifically coming from their mom’s colonial mentality. On the flight back home, Zhen starts crying and a flight attendant asks her what’s wrong, to which Zhen replied, “I miss my dad” and the flight attendant comforts her.


5. Chapter V: Costco

[This chapter is the one written in full.]


6. Chapter VI: Tacoma Detention Center

For the next two years, Zhen and her family travel two hours every weekend to visit their dad in Tacoma. Zhen maintains that this was one of the darkest periods in their life and claims that she felt the onset of MDD before hitting the age of ten. An early bloomer and dealing with the volatile emotions of an incoming preteen forced out of her childhood, Zhen and her mom butt heads frequently, recalling a specific instance in the car going back home from Tacoma where Zhen went out of their way to upset their mom after finding out something she did that challenged Zhen’s understanding of the world. At the end, Zhen understand that their mom did the best she could do in a tough situation, but will never forget what happened—the start of their strained relationship.


7. Chapter VII: Martha Lake Elementary

At this point, Zhen’s father has been detained in Tacoma for 2 years. During this time, her mom, her aunt, and her dad’s side of the family is helping as much as they can to get Zhen’s father out and avoid deportation by meeting up with lawyers. On July 13th, 2010, Zhen gets a text message from their cousin, Megan, to hang out at the nearby school playground, and so her siblings meet up with Megan. Out of nowhere, Zhen’s father comes out from behind the building wall and surprises the children with everyone crying, relieved.


8. Chapter VIII: Mr. H’s AP Language & Composition class

During the summer going into junior year of high school, Zhen has come to terms with their bisexuality. They spent the past year deeply thinking about every social interaction they have had in their life leading them to believe that they are not straight and after wrestling some internalized homophobia in their youth, they finally felt comfortable with labeling themselves as bisexual. With the start of the new school year, a new student from St. Louis, Missouri joins Mr. H’s class and just about everyone in school is intrigued by her and her aura. Zhen is finally intrigued by the new student, M, after hearing her speak about a niche podcast Zhen used to listen to in middle school. Soon, M is inducted into Zhen’s friend group and a special friendship is formed between the two. M confides to the friend group that she is a closeted lesbian.


9. Chapter IX: Fiat 500

M and Zhen become close friends fast, their favorite hangout being inside M’s car just talking for hours. At a New Year’s Eve party hosted by a mutual friend of M and Zhen, Zhen is begged by M to sleep over with the rest of the girls, but Zhen’s dad doesn’t let her, especially with the forecast saying that it would snow that night. Eventually, M confesses their romantic feelings for Zhen and they decide to start dating. Zhen claims that it was one of the best if not the best relationship they have ever had the honor of being in. After almost a year of dating, something done by M to Zhen has left them feeling uncomfortable, but Zhen drags out the breakup until they couldn’t fake it anymore. Zhen’s discomfort from the event begins an era of terrible coping strategies which eventually break up the friend group that they and M shared by the end of senior year.


10. Chapter X: l i m b o

As a result of trauma and untreated depression, Zhen does not formally graduate high school and this puts a tighter strain between Zhen and their mom. The chapter spans between the middle of 2018 up until the end of 2022, talking about difficulty in coping healthily, leaving a string of failed, empty relationships with cishet men, deciding to finish their diploma at a community college but failing due to declining mental health, severe heartbreak, and the onset of the COVID-19 pandemic. It is not until 2021 where Zhen actively goes out of their way to escape limbo and starts trying hard due to a newfound support system.


11. Chapter XI: T-Mobile Park

After failing so many classes and taking so many hiatuses, Zhen finally has enough credits to transfer to a university and applies to UW Bothell. After some time, they receive an email from the school and find out that they have been accepted to study psychology. For the next year, they give it their all in academia while juggling a job and time with friends. Set to graduate by the end of spring quarter 2024, they are tasked with taking a trip down memory lane through their senior project. Although a bit scared of what will come after graduation, Zhen feels a major sense of relief and extreme happiness for how far they have come given all the obstacles thrown at them in early life, crediting that their will to prove others wrong is what kept them fighting back all these years.

Workshop Draft

Memoir Workshop with Sarah Cannon 05/22



Prompt 1: They were the kind of person that made people feel better instantly just by their presence. (My friends)


Prompt 2: It was the kind of town where it felt like it was perpetually under a sleepy, cloudy daze. (Silent Hill) 

Brainstorm Ideas

Memoir requirements:


Memoir brainstorm ideas: