I AM BOTH

A young Vietnamese refugee searches for belonging.

Onomatopoeia punctuates the spare text—the “STAMP STOMP” of footsteps, the “SWISH SWOOSH” of baskets”—as Hương's family rides to school, past bánh mì carts and markets filled with durian. At school, different sounds interrupt the day: the “BOOM BANG POW” of bombs and the “THUMP THUMP” of Hương’s heartbeat. It’s only at home, over big hot bowls of phở, that Hương finds solace. A single night brings big changes as the family rushes to the airport, where they fly from Saigon to the U.S. “The music of the street is different here,” with “the CLICK CLACK of shoes and the RUMBLE VROOM of cars.” Greene methodically blends warm hues to create subtle shadows and textures that add to the gentle tone and emotional arc of the narrative. Despite the “TWISTS and FUMBLES” of using Hương's new American name, Jennifer, eventually “the letters and words become less strange,” and Hương starts to speak up at school. After eating phở, which still brings comfort, Hương realizes that “I am both. I am both Vietnamese and American. I am proud to be me.” This tender look at a difficult experience concludes with an author’s note in which Greene discusses how her family traveled to the U.S. on the last commercial flight from Vietnam in 1975.

A gentle tale outlining the loss and growth of a refugee.