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Some of the aunties in Dial A for Aunties speak the sort of broken English that my parents’ generation does. Their grasp of the English language is not a reflection of their intelligence, but a reflection of the sacrifice that they have made for us.
They are, in essence, trilingual, and I am so proud of this heritage. I’m aware while writing this that I’m straddling a very fine line between authenticity and stereotype, and it’s my hope that this book defies the latter.
Love swells through my heart. My bossy, loud, overwhelming family is here. Everything is—well, it’s unlikely that anything would be okay, but at least I won’t be going through it alone.
