Why do some people spend time tracing their ancestry and contemplating their ethnicity? It would seem that there is a certain fascination in laying out a strand of the European, Asian, or African diaspora, especially as it is related to their own families. Drawing a Family Tree requires a certain objective focus, combined with the thrill of hunting down and finding a famous or infamous progenitor. Change the Family Tree focus to immediate family, though, and there is a significantly larger problem with authenticity. Will family members balk at being named and portrayed? Is it possible to be completely objective about loved ones, especially about loved ones who have been incarcerated and unfairly treated because of their ethnicity? In Fred Wah’s DIAMOND GRILL, he tells stories about the rich ethnic mix of his parents and grandparents, who migrated to Saskatchewan and British Columbia and had families. One grandfather was Chinese, a member of a group of immigrants who were badly treated by the Canadian government. This ill-treatment becomes interwoven with the stories about his family. And many of Fred’s stories are about his half-Chinese  father and his bravura performances, in which he sometimes manages to turn ethnic stereotyping into a joke, a matter of shared laughter and small consequence. (Ethnic comedians do this all the time, making human connections through embarrassing situations and mistakes.) His father is able to move back and forth between the culture and concerns of the Chinese immigrants and the dominant and domineering white culture of the day. Fred’s quandary is embedded in his appearance. He is only a quarter Chinese and looks white, and he is often drawn into the white culture because of his appearance, ambition and English language capabilities, “camouflaged by the safety net of class and colorlessness”(138). A little deke for the sake of comfort, convenience, and in deference to the fact that his wife is Caucasian, as is his mother and both his grandmothers. But what about his Chinese father and Chinese relatives who were incarcerated and discriminated against by the Canadian government and people? (Carrie Dawson says this is still happening to refugee claimants who are jailed as “criminals, queue jumpers, and frauds.”) Wah would feel compelled to make a declaration of Chinese identity and solidarity; “(a)nother chip on my shoulder is the appropriation of the immigrant identity” (125). A deke in the other direction. And in writing this book about his Chinese background, Wah becomes for the second time, “not the target but the gun,” and this time the gun is aimed at the past performance of a prejudiced Canadian government and a prejudiced white population. A double deke?