Engaging readers through all five senses and the heart, Wang's debut memoir is a critical addition to the literature on immigration as well as the timeless category of childhood memoir. When she left this life behind, she spoke not a word of it until the xenophobia that crescendoed during the 2016 election cycle made her break her silence. Her only friend at times was a kitten she fed off her own tiny plate until her father blamed it for their bad luck and drove it away. She lied and blustered her way through the humiliating social network of elementary school, often with poor results. She taught herself English in a public school that sent her to a special needs classroom and forgot about her.

As a child, Wang snipped threads and shivered in a huge plastic bodysuit right alongside them. The family lived off trash-picking and working in sweatshops and frigid sushi processing plants, even though both parents had been professors in China. in 1994, perhaps it is no surprise that Wang, a graduate of Yale Law School on her way up as a litigator, had deeply buried the memories of the 7-year-old girl who came with her Ma Ma to Mei Guo-America, or “beautiful country.” There they joined her father, whose life had been brutalized by the Cultural Revolution (“he would happily eat America's shit before feasting on China's fruits'). Since the absolute necessity of going through the world unnoticed was drummed into her from the moment she arrived in the U.S. How one little girl found her way through the terror, hunger, exhaustion, and cruelty of an undocumented childhood in New York's Chinatown.

A beautiful country a memoir