This book evolved from a series of interviews and lectures that I gave from 2015 to 2022, as well as numerous essays I published during that time. The publications and venues are far too numerous to list, but I am deeply grateful to all the editors and interviewers who gave me the chance to share and develop my views, as well as all the institutions that invited me to speak. I am also deeply appreciative for the work of all those who arranged many of these opportunities: Trinity Ray, Kevin Mills, Ryan Barker, and Ariel Lewiton of the Tuesday Agency, as well as Deb Seager and John Mark Boling, my publicists at Grove Press.
I am lucky that Zoë Ruiz agreed to collect and read these interviews, lectures, and essays—altogether totaling in the hundreds—from which she produced a compilation of highlights and themes that formed the backbone of the first draft. Some of the ideas in that draft and its later revisions came from a number of graduate seminars I taught on war and memory, decolonization, and critical refugee studies. My students were valuable interlocutors who challenged me to articulate my ideas with greater clarity and depth. Not least, they made me do the reading.
I offered these seminars at the University of Southern California, which also granted research funds that were crucial to the writing of this book, including support for organizing a manuscript workshop. During this workshop of an interim draft, I benefitted greatly from critical and generous commentary by Gina Apostol, Cathy Park Hong, and Laila Lalami, who came up with the title of this book. Many of my academic colleagues also provided feedback on the manuscript-in-progress: Meiling Cheng, Adrian De Leon, Evyn Lê Espiritu Gandhi, Janet Hoskins, Annette Kim, Nancy Lutkehaus, Natalia Molina, Lydie Moudileno, Chris Muniz, Catherine Nguyen, Peter Redfield, and Ernest J. Wilson III. The book is much better for their insights.
My research assistant Jenny Hoang also read that draft, and, just as importantly, oversaw much of the research and administrative support I needed during the writing of the book. She was preceded and followed in that endeavor by, respectively, Rebekah Park and Titi Nguyen, whose collective managerial skill enabled me to concentrate on writing. They were helped by a team of undergraduate assistants whose enthusiasm and energy were uplifting: Christine Nguyen, Faithe Nguyen, Tommy Nguyen, Ashley Tran, and Jordan Trinh. Kathleen Hoang in particular was crucial to putting together the notes for this volume. I am forever indebted to this team for their aid.
The writer Nguyễn Phan Quế Mai helpfully clarified a few issues in Vietnamese language and culture for me. Journalist Sharon Simonson saved me a great deal of time by delving into San José’s archives to figure out what happened to the SàiGòn Mới. My return to Fort Indiantown Gap was facilitated by Captain Travis Mueller and the fort’s museum staff, Stephanie Olsen and Charlie Oellig, while Brad Rhen of the Pennsylvania National Guard was kind enough to document the visit with photos and an article. Superfan and friend Adiaha Spinks-Franklin read a portion of the final manuscript when I most needed it, and continually inspired me with her passionate commitment to multiracial, decolonial justice.
Writers H’Rina de Troy and Y-Danair Niehrah answered my questions about Montagnard history, politics, and culture and prompted me to reflect on the role my family played in the Central Highlands. Various members of the Vietnam Studies Group also responded to my query about Vietnamese Catholic resettlement in that region: Bradley Camp Davis, Diane Fox, Erik Harms, Lê Xuân Hy, Edward G. Miller, Nhu Miller, Michael Montesano, Paul Mooney, Phan Quang Anh, Oscar Salemink, Hue Tam Ho Tai, Philip Taylor, and Simon Toner. I thank them all for sharing their expertise, although my interpretation of Vietnamese Catholic resettlement is my own.
As always, my agents Nat Sobel and Judith Weber provided wise guidance and encouragement. I have also been able to count on the continuing support and confidence of Grove Press, beginning with my wonderful publisher Morgan Entrekin and extending to Emily Burns and Judy Hottensen. Norman E. Tuttle, Sal Destro, Gretchen Mergenthaler, and Kelly Winton did great work in designing this book and its cover. And while I owe Nancy Tan, Kathryn Jergovich, and Julia Berner-Tobin many thanks for proofreading the manuscript, any errors that remain are mine. Far from last, my brilliant editor, Peter Blackstock, made this book—as well as all my other Grove books—much better with his magical ability to suggest judicious cuts and revisions while also encouraging me to go on.
Going on was made much easier due to several years of transformative and career-changing fellowship support from the MacArthur Foundation. Its financial generosity allowed me both to write and to spend time with my family, which in the end proved as important as the act of writing itself. My children, Ellison and Simone, have taught me as much as I have taught them (or so I hope). And my partner and first reader, Lan Duong, fellow refugee, scholar, writer, and child of San José, California, brought love and a shared life’s understanding to this book. She gave me the key that unlocked the final pages and brought this book to a close.
Finally, I am grateful to my brother, anh Tùng. The one who has always looked out for me, the only one who knows what we both went through, the one who knew Ba Má as well as I did, he gave the final permission for this story to be told.