The Secret Battle of Evan Pao

“Go along to get along.[…] I guess it means, make a point of being agreeable. Maybe you don’t always get your way, but it’s important to get along.”

Uncle Joe’s advice to the Pao children highlights the complexities of navigating The Struggle to Find Identity and Belonging When You’re Different in a new environment. This guidance reflects the survival strategies often employed by marginalized individuals or families, emphasizing compromise and conformity to avoid conflict or exclusion. However, the advice also reveals the tension between self-expression and societal expectations. Uncle Joe illustrates the cost of belonging in a community where differences are not readily embraced by urging the children to prioritize agreeability over asserting their own desires or values.

“‘Don’t hope,’ said Celeste. ‘Not when it comes to Dad. He doesn’t deserve your hope.’ Evan hoped that he’d feel a twinge when Celeste said that—something to show she didn’t mean it. But nothing. Her insides matched her outsides.”

Uncle Joe’s advice to the Pao children highlights the complexities of navigating identity and belonging in a new environment. This guidance reflects the survival strategies often employed by marginalized individuals or families, emphasizing compromise and conformity to avoid conflict or exclusion. However, the advice also reveals the tension between self-expression and societal expectations. Uncle Joe illustrates the cost of belonging in a community where differences are not readily embraced by urging the children to prioritize agreeability over asserting their own desires or values.

“‘Do you have the China virus?’ […] ‘Brady,’ Mrs. Norwood said. ‘That’s a terrible question. Of course Evan doesn’t have it.’ ‘I mean, I wouldn’t come to school if I had a virus,’ said Evan, reasonably. ‘Of any kind.’ […] ‘Diseases come from all over the place,’ said Taylor. ‘And you’re just using that name to be a jerk. People have died because of comments like that.’”

This exchange highlights the impact of prejudice and the intersection between racism, ignorance, and the power of allyship in The Secret Battle of Evan Pao. Brady’s comment reflects a harmful stereotype rooted in xenophobia, reducing Evan to his ethnicity rather than seeing him as an individual. While Evan responds calmly, his reaction underscores the burden on marginalized individuals to navigate hostility with composure. Taylor’s rebuttal, pointing out the real harm caused by such language, directly illustrates the importance of confronting prejudice. The moment contrasts ignorance and empathy, emphasizing how allyship can challenge harmful narratives and create space for accountability and understanding.

“‘It’s funny that Yankees became a Northern versus Southern thing. Everyone was a Yankee when we were fighting the British during the Revolutionary War,’ […]. ‘Oh, so what side was he on? […] The Union or the Confederacy?” […] [H]is comment infuriated Brady. ‘What side? What side?’ Brady roared. ‘Do you know where you are, boy? The Confederacy, of course! […] ‘I just thought that if you were that proud, he might be on the Union side because they’re the ones who won the war.’”

This conversation between Evan and Brady illustrates the tension between historical pride and inherited prejudice and the theme of How Prejudice Hurts People and Communities. Evan’s observation about the term “Yankee” and his subtle challenge regarding the Union’s victory expose the fragility of Brady’s attachment to Confederate pride. Brady’s defensive and furious response reveals how deeply his sense of identity and belonging is tied to a glorified and selective version of history perpetuated by his community. Evan’s calm yet incisive comment about the Union’s victory highlights his ability to question the blind reverence for a lost cause, subtly critiquing how historical narratives can be distorted to uphold prejudice and exclusion. This exchange illustrates how history, wielded without introspection, becomes a tool for perpetuating division rather than understanding.

“He was watching the action, but not part of it. It was Mrs. Norwood’s way of telling Evan, maybe in the kindest way she could, that he did not belong. […] He’d just have to try harder, thought Evan. Try harder to belong.”

This quote captures Evan’s struggle with identity and belonging. Mrs. Norwood’s subtle exclusion—having Evan act as a scribe during Battlefield Day—highlights how even well-intentioned actions can reinforce feelings of alienation. Evan’s internal response, resolving to “try harder to belong,” reflects the unfair burden on outsiders to adapt and prove themselves in environments resistant to inclusion. The moment illustrates the emotional toll of being othered, as Evan’s desire for acceptance clashes with the societal barriers that define who is considered an insider.

“‘Except he doesn’t know anything about me! I’m just an idea to him. A thing. He doesn’t know what I like, or what I believe in. I’m just some weird idea of being cool and exotic to him. We’ve never even really had a conversation.’ ‘At least he’s not asking if you have the China virus’ […]. ‘It’s the same thing, Evan. A person who hates you without knowing you is the same as a person who likes you without knowing you.’”

Celeste and Evan’s conversation explores the nuanced impact of prejudice and stereotyping in The Secret Battle of Evan Pao. Celeste’s frustration—being reduced to “an idea” rather than recognized as a person—highlights how even positive biases can dehumanize. Her comparison of unearned admiration to outright hate emphasizes that both stem from the same root: seeing people as symbols or stereotypes rather than individuals. By equating these experiences, the novel critiques all forms of prejudice, revealing how both hostile and seemingly favorable biases strip people of their identity and agency.

“‘I can’t believe it […]. We fought in the Civil War.’ […] ‘I don’t think we’re related to any of these soldiers,’ said Mom. […] ‘It doesn’t matter […]. We were here. We were here. I get a story.’”

This quote highlights Evan’s yearning for identity and belonging. His excitement reflects his desire to anchor himself within the larger narrative of American history, even if the connection is symbolic rather than direct. By discovering that Asian soldiers fought in the Civil War, Evan challenges the exclusionary historical narratives upheld in Haddington, asserting his place in a story that often overlooks people like him. This moment illustrates the importance of representation and how reclaiming hidden histories can empower individuals to feel a sense of inclusion and pride in their identity.

“‘We can have old stories and new,’ said Mrs. Norwood. ‘There’s room for both.’ But did the old stories stifle the new ones? Max wondered.”

Max’s concern reflects the tension between tradition and change, particularly in the context of identity and belonging. Mrs. Norwood’s assertion that there is room for old and new stories suggests an ideal of inclusivity, where old stories coexist with new perspectives. However, Max’s question reveals the conflict when established narratives suppress alternative voices and experiences. The exchange highlights the challenge of preserving heritage while creating space for diverse, evolving identities, questioning whether long-held beliefs can genuinely allow for growth or if they inadvertently constrain it.

“‘I was just saying that instead of worrying about forgetting history, and I don’t think anyone around here is going to forget about the Civil War anytime soon, it’s more important to know the whole history’ […] ‘Knowing that people looked like me, during the Civil War, that means something. […] But when you have a statue, it’s like one idea about who fought in it is stuck in concrete.’”

Evan critiques the narrow, exclusionary portrayal of history, arguing that knowing “the whole history” is essential to understanding the diverse experiences that shaped it. His comment about the statue highlights how monuments and symbols can perpetuate a limited, one-dimensional narrative, erasing the contributions of marginalized groups. Evan’s connection to the broader history of the Civil War reflects his desire for inclusivity and representation, asserting that history should encompass the experiences of all people, not just the dominant narrative. This moment illustrates the novel’s critique of how historical memory is shaped and the themes of identity and belonging and the impact of prejudice.

“‘You guys are ganging up on me. And I guess it’s up to me to decide, huh? Just me. The adult.’ She was talking about Dad, Celeste realized. Mom had to make all the grown-up decisions alone, without Dad. She wondered if Mom missed Dad. She herself tried not to.”

Celeste reflects on the complexities of How Family Dynamics and Legacy Affect Relationships and the weight of abandonment. Her realization about Elaine reveals her growing awareness of her mother’s emotional burden as she navigates life without Michael. This moment marks a shift in Celeste’s perspective as she understands that Michael’s abandonment extends beyond her and Evan, affecting their mother in ways she had not previously considered. The absence of adult perspectives in the novel, aside from the Pao family’s realtor, underscores the emotional distance and isolation the children feel while highlighting Celeste’s recognition of the unspoken struggles her mother faces, complicating the notion of legacy and family resilience.

“‘Can’t you be mad at someone and miss them?’ asked Evan. ‘It’s easier just to be mad,’ said Celeste. But as soon as Evan named the feeling, she felt the same thing. She was mad at Dad and wanted nothing more than for him to be around so she could tell him how mad she was.

Evan and Celeste illustrate the emotional complexity of love, anger, and abandonment. Evan’s question captures the paradox of conflicting emotions, revealing his struggle to reconcile his anger toward his father with his underlying longing for his presence. Celeste’s initial response highlights her emotional defense mechanism, as anger provides a clear, manageable outlet for pain. However, the moment of realization that she, too, is both angry and yearning for her father’s return reflects the deep, often contradictory emotions that come with abandonment, underscoring how unresolved feelings of hurt and love can coexist, complicating the process of healing and forgiveness.

“‘The damages have been minimal, and we are talking about a minor here in any case. He’s accepted responsibility. You can press charges if you want…but that’s what you’ll be known for. […] His meaning was clear; if Mom pressed charges, she would be the bad guy, not Brady. […] ‘Dìdi,’ said Mom shortly. ‘Bié shuō huà.’ The comment was intended as a low-key way of telling Evan to be quiet but it seemed to infuriate Officer Nelson. “You will keep this conversation in English!’ he barked at her. Mom shrank down. Blood thundered in Evan’s ears. ‘We’re not the ones in trouble here,’ said Celeste indignantly. ‘You will be if you don’t listen,’ said Officer Nelson. ‘I don’t need you all speaking some secret language. […] ‘Here’s your report, ma’am. You talk to your landlord about getting that glass repaired. Everything just works a whole lot better around here if you try to get along, okay?’”

This interaction between the Paos and the police officers reveals the intersection of power, racism, cultural differences, and the impact of prejudice. Officer Nelson’s attempt to silence the Pao family’s use of Chinese highlights his authority and cultural intolerance, illustrating how their heritage is treated as a threat or inconvenience rather than a part of their identity. The officer’s veiled threat to “get along” shows how authority figures often pressure marginalized groups to conform to dominant cultural norms or risk further victimization. This moment highlights the difficult choices faced by the Paos, who must navigate systemic discrimination while trying to protect the family’s dignity and safety.

“‘We’re pretending to be people from the Civil War,’ said Julia. ‘And people fought for the right to own other people, to enslave them.’ ‘They did,’ admitted Mrs. Norwood. ‘But let’s not get into that. I don’t want anyone to feel bad if their family actually owned slaves.’ ‘Imagine how the people whose families were actually enslaved felt,’ muttered Taylor. […] ‘A person can’t help their past,’ [Julia] said softly. ‘That’s what my mom says. Our job is to learn from it.’”

Julia confronts the uncomfortable truth of slavery, while Mrs. Norwood’s quick dismissal reveals a reluctance to engage with the full, painful reality of the past. Taylor’s response challenges the avoidance of uncomfortable truths and highlights the emotional cost of ignoring historical injustices. Julia’s reflection suggests that acknowledging and understanding the past is essential for growth, urging the characters to confront their history rather than sweep it aside to preserve comfort. This moment illustrates the tension between privilege and responsibility and the necessity of reckoning with history to build a more inclusive future.

“‘But because of another law that passed later, the Chinese Exclusion Act, Chinese were not allowed to become citizens, not even someone who had fought in the war. But when he was old and in a home for veterans, Edward still went out and saluted the flag every evening.’ Evan still did not say the other part he had thought about; how much Edward must have loved the United States when it did not seem to love him back, would not call him a citizen.”

Evan’s reflection on Edward Day Cohota’s experience highlights the deep connection between service, exclusion, and identity and belonging. Edward, a Chinese immigrant who fought in the American Civil War and served in the army for 30 years, was denied citizenship due to the Chinese Exclusion Act despite his loyal service to the nation. Evan sees himself in Edward’s plight, recognizing the parallel between Edward’s struggle for recognition and his own search for belonging in a community that does not fully accept him. The quote highlights the emotional toll of being denied citizenship, not because of one’s loyalty or contributions but due to systemic prejudice, reflecting how identity is shaped by personal actions and society’s willingness to accept and acknowledge one’s humanity.

“Some stories made you change your mind about yourself and other stories made you think differently about others, but what was important was that it changed something about you.”

Evan’s reflection emphasizes the transformative power of stories, illustrating how they can reshape how we view ourselves and perceive others. The idea that some stories “change something about you” speaks to the profound impact that understanding different perspectives can have on personal growth. In recognizing that stories can challenge both self-identity and societal views, Evan highlights the role of empathy in fostering change and promoting deeper connections. This moment reinforces the novel’s broader theme of identity and belonging, as stories—personal or shared—serve as a tool for evolving individual and collective understandings.

“His heart felt tired and worn out from worrying and wondering. Maybe Mom was right. Maybe Celeste was right. It was too complicated to hold all of these feelings inside. And who else did he have in the world? ‘I don’t care,’ said Evan. Now he was part of a united front. Safety in numbers. Almost immediately, though, he felt like he’d been punched in the head. He was lying, he knew that. He just hoped that particular lie, that he did not care, might become true.”

Evan delves into the emotional complexity of his relationship with his father and the burden of unresolved feelings. Evan’s internal conflict reflects the difficulty of reconciling anger, longing, and disappointment as he tries to align himself with his mother’s and sister’s perspectives for the sake of unity. The act of lying to himself highlights his struggle to suppress his vulnerability and protect himself from further hurt, revealing how emotional self-defense can lead to self-deception. Ultimately, Evan’s hope that the lie might become true underscores his longing for closure and his desire to find peace within his fractured family dynamics and legacy.

“‘He’s a Griggs for sure,’ his dad had said. ‘Too lazy for his own good.’ Brady hated it when his dad said things like that, brushing them all in the same paint with his words. Like his name decided everything—who he was going to be, what he was capable of becoming.”

As illustrated in this quote, family dynamics and legacy play a significant role in shaping self-perception, identity, and belonging. Brady resents his father’s sweeping generalization, which reduces his individuality to the weight of his family name and limits his potential. This reflects how legacies can confine rather than empower, creating cycles of self-doubt and frustration. Randall’s insult toward Nero, Brady’s only source of unconditional love, further emphasizes Brady’s isolation within his family, underscoring the damaging effects of a legacy that dismisses personal worth and individuality.

“He wasn’t mad at Brady anymore. He felt defective. What was wrong with him? People fought whole wars. Couldn’t he at least do a silent treatment? […] ‘I didn’t do anything,’ said Evan. ‘You know I didn’t. I never did anything but be myself.’ […] Evan hated himself. For wanting an answer only Brady could give. For needing an answer.”

This quote delves into Evan’s internal conflict, highlighting themes of identity and belonging, self-worth, and the impact of prejudice. Evan’s inability to sustain anger at Brady reflects his struggle to reconcile his sense of justice with his need for understanding and belonging. His self-directed frustration reveals how deeply external prejudice can corrode self-perception, making him question his own value simply for existing as himself. Ultimately, Evan’s longing for an answer from Brady underscores the complexity of forgiveness and the emotional weight of seeking validation from those who have wronged him.

“At first, I was mad, but then I thought, that’s gonna be me, anyway. That’s where all this is going. With enough time, it’s going to be me taking that shot. So what’s the difference between me and Charlie? I’m just takin’ my punishment a few years early.”

Brady reflects on his internalized fatalism and the toxic legacy of his environment, illustrating the themes of identity and belonging, family dynamics and legacy, accountability, and the impact of prejudice. Brady sees himself inevitably following in Charlie’s destructive footsteps, illustrating how deeply societal and familial expectations have shaped his sense of self. By taking responsibility, Brady acknowledges the trajectory he believes he is destined for and, paradoxically, seeks a way to confront it. This moment highlights the tension between personal agency and the weight of external influences as Brady grapples with punishment as both a consequence and a potential path to change.

“‘It can’t be like that,’ said Evan. ‘The truth matters.’ […] ‘Then they’ll want to know why I helped if I had nothing to do with it, because Brady Griggs wouldn’t do something just because it was right. And if you tell them why I helped, then we’re back to telling on Charlie,’ said Brady. […] ‘Even if I wanted to change, no one would let me. […] I am sorry. I’m sorry for all of it. I was wrong about you.’”

Evan and Brady explore the themes of redemption, accountability, and the complexities of personal change. Evan’s assertion that “the truth matters” emphasizes his belief in justice and transparency, even as Brady struggles with the consequences of his past actions. Brady’s fear that his reputation will overshadow his efforts to change highlights how deeply entrenched perceptions can hinder personal growth and reconciliation. His apology to Evan, however, marks a pivotal moment of self-awareness, showing that genuine remorse and acknowledgment of past wrongs are the first steps toward change, even when societal acceptance feels out of reach.

“‘Oh, you mean the thing with Evan? That’s really nice for him, but what’s something you learn that matters? That’s like […] Not trivia, exactly, but you know what I mean.’ ‘Mama, it matters. It’s not just a thing for Evan.’ Max was a little shocked his mother would say that, but maybe she had to be there, to be in the class.”

Max’s conversation with his mother explores the themes of perspective, the value of personal stories in shaping collective understanding, identity and belonging, and the impact of prejudice. Max’s defense of Evan’s experience reflects his growing awareness that individual histories, like Evan’s connection to Chinese soldiers in the Civil War, are more than mere “trivia”—they hold deep significance for identity and belonging. His mother’s dismissive response highlights the disconnect between those who experience marginalization and those who do not fully grasp its impact. The dialogue underscores how empathy often requires presence and engagement, as Max suggests that truly understanding the importance of these stories demands being part of the moment.

“‘What you need to know,’ said Evan, interrupting Max, ‘is that Brady has apologized and I’ve forgiven him. Everything else is just details.’ […] ‘I was wrong about a lot of things,’ said Brady. ‘About Evan.’ It felt like the whole group exhaled at the same time. Forgiveness was enough. Forgiveness was its own kind of truth.”

This moment illustrates the transformative power of forgiveness as a means of reconciliation and personal growth. Evan’s decision to prioritize forgiveness over dwelling on past wrongs demonstrates his maturity and ability to disrupt cycles of resentment and prejudice. Brady’s acknowledgment of his mistakes and the group’s collective relief highlight how forgiveness fosters community connection and identity and belonging. The statement that “forgiveness was its own kind of truth” suggests that, while facts and details matter, healing and progress often require a willingness to move beyond them toward empathy and understanding.

“‘People at birth are basically good. But…they become different if they are not properly taught. […] I need time. Come back tomorrow,’ she said […]. Tomorrow sounded like a beautiful word, even said in an irritated tone. A balm. Room to do better. Room to change.”

Elaine Pao’s statement reflects a belief in the inherent goodness of people while acknowledging the role of upbringing and education in shaping behavior. Her response to Evan and Brady emphasizes the theme of transformation, suggesting that growth and change are possible with time and effort. The description of “tomorrow” as a “balm” conveys hope and the potential for redemption, both on an individual and societal level. This moment ties to the novel’s broader exploration of identity and belonging, illustrating that understanding and improvement require patience and the willingness to learn.