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"Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure...as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others."
~ Marianne Williamson ~ |
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Born a Hmong Warrior
Here's a really brief history of the Hmong. The Hmong are a small ethnic group from southern China who fled to northern Laos. The Hmong lived in the mountains of Laos until the breakout of the Indochina War. When the war spread into Laos, some of the Hmong became involved as secret soldiers for the CIA. When the U.S. withdrew its forces in 1975, many Hmong were left behind. The Hmong who had fought on the CIA/US side were endangered and had to flee for safety. My family along with thousands of others fled to refugee camps in Thailand. In 1989, my uncle sponsored my mom's family and she came to the U.S., married my father, and had me! Being Hmong-American is something I am very proud of. I see myself as a warrior because of my people's history. We have fought many battles, traveled across oceans, lost many of our loved ones and yet we survived. |
Coming of age in St. Paul, MN (what I call "Hmong U-Topia") has been an essential part of my identity development. Minnesota is the second state after California with the largest Hmong population (66,181 people). I'm blessed to have grown up with many strong Hmong women leaders as role models. In MN, I feel the Hmong community is united politically and socially. We have Hmong leaders in the state government, school board, city council and in both the private and non-profit companies. The Hmong have worked hard to make a home in Minnesota for themselves.
Returning to Laos
It is a dream of mine to return to Laos one day with my father. As a little girl, my daddy told me stories about the jungles of Laos, the dirt roads, the red river, the hard life of a farmer, and he also told me stories about ghosts and spirits. My father would send cassettes of himself talking to his brothers and sisters in Laos. I remember having to speak in green Hmong when it was my turn to record myself on the cassette. Back and fourth these cassettes went. We would get one and I'd listen to a stranger say my name and ask me how I was doing. I know that going to Laos this year will be a very emotional journey for me. It's about retracing my family's history as well as growing professionally.
Many of my relatives including my mom questions why I want to go to Laos. They tell me Laos is dangerous. "It is not safe." "It's still communist." "People are very poor there." I didn't tell my parents I had applied for the Fulbright application. In fact, I didn't tell them about it until I found out my application was recommended. I knew they would resist and oppose my decision because of their concern for my safety. Even when I found out I got the fellowship on April 7th (one day before my birthday) I didn't tell them.
One of the duties of being a Hmong girl is respecting my parents' wishes or in Hmong yuav tswm mloog lus (one must listen to words). Because I was born with the gift of being a part of two cultures I have struggled balancing them my whole life. I like to think that I'm better now. As I grow older and become my own person, I'm learning that sometimes forging my own path means I will have to diverge from my parents' wishes. It means I will have to disobey them. I wish I could explain to my mom why I'm doing this. She thinks I'm crazy and keeps telling me horror stories non-stop hoping that I will change my mind. I'm not. I made a decision and I'm going through with it because for me, this journey is about creating an understanding. Creating an understanding between worlds, cultures, and people but most importantly between me and my parents. My parents are from a different time and when we get into heated arguments about Hmong culture or customs, I am always told to keep quiet and just respect their ways because they are from a different time and use to their own ways. As I move forward into my life, I want to carry on the cultural values that are meaningful to me but before I can discard what is not right, not relevant, not meaningful I must understand. With all that said, I'm not going to Laos with the romantic notion that I'm going find the answers to all my questions. I'm not expecting to meet Hmong people and sing kum-ba-yah with them. I simply just want to see it with my own eyes and process the social, political, and economic systems on my own. But that's my hope--to understand in a different context what being Hmong means.
Returning to Laos
It is a dream of mine to return to Laos one day with my father. As a little girl, my daddy told me stories about the jungles of Laos, the dirt roads, the red river, the hard life of a farmer, and he also told me stories about ghosts and spirits. My father would send cassettes of himself talking to his brothers and sisters in Laos. I remember having to speak in green Hmong when it was my turn to record myself on the cassette. Back and fourth these cassettes went. We would get one and I'd listen to a stranger say my name and ask me how I was doing. I know that going to Laos this year will be a very emotional journey for me. It's about retracing my family's history as well as growing professionally.
Many of my relatives including my mom questions why I want to go to Laos. They tell me Laos is dangerous. "It is not safe." "It's still communist." "People are very poor there." I didn't tell my parents I had applied for the Fulbright application. In fact, I didn't tell them about it until I found out my application was recommended. I knew they would resist and oppose my decision because of their concern for my safety. Even when I found out I got the fellowship on April 7th (one day before my birthday) I didn't tell them.
One of the duties of being a Hmong girl is respecting my parents' wishes or in Hmong yuav tswm mloog lus (one must listen to words). Because I was born with the gift of being a part of two cultures I have struggled balancing them my whole life. I like to think that I'm better now. As I grow older and become my own person, I'm learning that sometimes forging my own path means I will have to diverge from my parents' wishes. It means I will have to disobey them. I wish I could explain to my mom why I'm doing this. She thinks I'm crazy and keeps telling me horror stories non-stop hoping that I will change my mind. I'm not. I made a decision and I'm going through with it because for me, this journey is about creating an understanding. Creating an understanding between worlds, cultures, and people but most importantly between me and my parents. My parents are from a different time and when we get into heated arguments about Hmong culture or customs, I am always told to keep quiet and just respect their ways because they are from a different time and use to their own ways. As I move forward into my life, I want to carry on the cultural values that are meaningful to me but before I can discard what is not right, not relevant, not meaningful I must understand. With all that said, I'm not going to Laos with the romantic notion that I'm going find the answers to all my questions. I'm not expecting to meet Hmong people and sing kum-ba-yah with them. I simply just want to see it with my own eyes and process the social, political, and economic systems on my own. But that's my hope--to understand in a different context what being Hmong means.