Unpacking the Model Minority Myth: Prachi Gupta’s “They Called Us Exceptional”
Review by Jiya Kotecha
They Called Us Exceptional
And Other Lies That Raised Us
By Prachi GuptaISBN9780593443002
Published onAug 20, 2024
Published by Crown
Pages 288
In a world that often celebrates the model minority myth, They Called Us Exceptional and Other Lies That Raised Us shatters its polished surface to reveal the quiet struggles beneath perfection.
Written by Prachi Gupta, this memoir unravels the psychological cost of Asian Americans attempting to attain the ‘American Dream’. The novel explores the familial dynamics between Prachi, her parents, and her brother Yush, whose intertwined struggles trace a journey through unseen wounds of cultural pressure. Primarily set in New Jersey, Pennsylvania, and New York, with mentions of Canada, India, and California, the book seamlessly moves through personal memory and social critique. Through honesty and heartbreak, Prachi exposes how the pursuit of exceptionalism can both bind and break a family.
Prachi has chosen to write the memoir as a letter to her mother using the second-person perspective. Not only does this add intimacy and is profoundly evocative to the reader, but it also adds a layer of immediacy to the current societal expectations of Asian Americans. Utilizing a letter-like construct is a unique craft decision and is used to portray both heartbreak and love towards her mother. It shows her heartbreak of not being able to get through to her mother in any scenario before this, yet still maintains a compassionate tone in explaining her traumas and struggles. Prachi coherently explores the complexities of her mother being a victim and the aggressor at the same time.
In the first chapter of the memoir, there is a harrowing scene of Prachi’s mother being emotionally and verbally abused by her father – an unsettling introduction that immediately sets the tone for the rest of the book. While her mother is clearly the victim, Prachi reveals how deeply this dynamic permeates her own sense of identity and belonging. Growing up within the Indian diaspora, she learns that silence and endurance are often the price of maintaining respectability. This respectability is, however, called into question when the mother’s passions and choices are not truly respected by anyone, including Prachi at times. Prachi internalises her father’s behaviour, joining in the mockery of her mother’s accent, revealing how cycles of shame and power replicate themselves even within love. Prachi’s portrayal of this tension exposes the hidden emotional costs of immigrant ideals and the confusion of a child forced to choose between loyalty, survival, and selfhood. Yet, throughout the novel, we see Prachi as a child sometimes stepping in to protect her mother, assuming an adult role that feels both courageous and inappropriate.
The most difficult parts to read are when Prachi’s mother uses Prachi as a shield and lets her take the abuse from her father. At a point, Prachi had prepared herself to “absorb the anger that he reserved for her” which takes a toll on their relationship and adds another layer of expectations onto Prachi. As the novel progresses, we see Prachi taking a stand and asserting her individuality. The first time she hangs up on her parents is a key turning point in the book, but it poses a new complex decision: should she carry on and face life on her own, or should she apologise and continue the lies of being perfect? Here, it is clear that there is not much incentive for Prachi to question her family structure, as that is what she has been familiar with since being born and is the current status quo. Leaving her family would mean facing the uncomfortable realities about how she and her mother both deserve better. The second turning point we see in individuality is when Prachi chooses to stay with her Buaji (aunt) instead of her father, making a conscious choice to prioritise her own emotional well-being over familial obligations. With the journey of the memoir and the domino effect of a ‘perfect’ family, the reader can clearly understand and sympathise with why Prachi chose to leave and distance herself from her parents.
Adding to the emotional tension of Prachi’s memoir is the pervasive belief that nothing could be wrong in a household where the children are high-achieving, and the father is a respected doctor. This facade not only completely overlooks the mother’s abuse but also makes it hard for outsiders and even family members to acknowledge the dysfunction brewing beneath the surface. Prachi impactfully captures the in between of showing how the pursuit of perfection can silence the truth. Despite these heavy and groundbreaking themes, the book remains amazingly accessible. The memoir’s chronological structure and clear prose allow a reader to follow Prachi’s journey with ease and compassion, making the story both relatable and profoundly affecting.
Ultimately, They Called Us Exceptional and Other Lies That Raised Us is a powerful reminder that the pursuit of perfection can hide pain, and that breaking the silence is often the first step towards reclaiming not just one person’s truth, but the truth of a whole society.
They Called Us Exceptional And Other Lies That Raised Us is available from Bookshop.org and other retail outlets.
About the reviewer:
Jiya Kotecha is a writer from Nairobi, Kenya. A senior writing major and dance minor at the University of Tampa, she is deeply invested in art as a form of resistance, memory, and cultural preservation. Her academic interests centre on postcolonial literature, feminist theory, and global narratives. TESOL certified, she spent a semester tutoring students from non-English-speaking countries, an experience that strengthened her commitment to cross-cultural education. She has also taught Indian classical dance in Nairobi for four years, blending movement, storytelling, and tradition in her artistic practice.