Mỹ Documents by Kevin Nguyen

Some books don’t just tell a story—they hold up a mirror to the world around us. My Documents by Kevin Nguyen is one of those books.

In a dystopia that feels uncomfortably possible, the U.S. Government enacts a sweeping, brutal policy: in response to six violent attacks carried out by Vietnamese men, all Vietnamese Americans are forcibly relocated to internment camps. My Documents follows four "cousins"—half-siblings—navigating this horrifying new reality.

Ursula and Alvin, raised by their (white) mother, Pam, grew up mostly disconnected from their Vietnamese roots. Their father, Dan, disappeared early, leaving only sporadic visits to extended family on the West Coast as their tenuous cultural link. Ursula, a journalist, is desperate to prove herself and claw her way out of the fashion and beauty section of her publication. Alvin, a freshly minted Google employee, is still riding the privilege that shields him from consequences. Because of their status and connections, both avoid the camps.

Jen and Duncan aren’t so lucky. Raised by a devout Catholic mother in Indiana, they find themselves on the other side of this new America. Duncan, towering and aimless, drifts through life without a clear direction. Jen, a freshman at NYU, is still figuring out who she is—though one thing is clear: she idolizes Ursula, who keeps her at arm’s length. When the government comes knocking, their mother, Jen, and Duncan are shipped off to Camp Tacoma.

Reading this hit like a punch to the gut. The timing is almost ironic. Just days ago, I was reminded that it was the 33rd anniversary of my 13 Vietnamese relatives arriving in the U.S.—thirteen people I had never met, suddenly living under my roof. My childhood home filled overnight: cousins at my school, aunts, uncles, my bà nội in the living room, in the kitchen, in the backyard. It doesn’t take much to imagine how easily they could be rounded up, labeled as threats, and shipped off to a place like Camp Tacoma. And just as easily, how I wouldn’t be.

The idea of internment camps in America feels like a dystopian nightmare—except that nightmare has already happened. Executive Order 9066 ripped Japanese Americans from their homes, their lives, and their dignity under the pretense of "national security." The trauma endured in places like Manzanar and Tule Lake is well-documented—Jeanne Wakatsuki Houston’s Farewell to Manzanar and Mary Matsuda Gruenewald’s Looking Like the Enemy. And yet, America never really learned.

Because let’s be real—it could happen again. It is happening, in different forms. The government has always found ways to justify xenophobia and racism, draping oppression and rejection in the American flag and calling it patriotism. The Vietnam War, a conflict America had no business in, echoes through history. Look around now—Ukraine, Gaza. Different places, same playbook.

What My Documents does so masterfully is bring this cautionary reality into sharp focus. The narrative hurtles forward, switching between perspectives: Ursula’s ruthless ambition, Alvin’s willful ignorance, Duncan’s surprising success on the football field (sponsored, of course, by Nike…), and Jen’s desperate attempts to expose the truth, no matter the cost.

History doesn’t repeat itself. It just finds new ways to wear the same mask.

Vietnamese, Japanese, Mexican, Cuban—it doesn’t matter.

At the end of the day, all anyone wants is to be seen as human. As equal.

Thank you to NetGalley, the publishers, and Kevin Nguyen for the opportunity to read this terrifying tale.