Entering the Belly of the Beast

Entering the Belly of the Beast

The deceptively young Tây Phương Lions are a Vietnamese lion dance crew based in Minneapolis. They’re on a mission to reinvent and redefine the possibilities of Vietnamese American identity.

WORDS AND PHOTOGRAPHS BY BRENDA TRAN

One Friday evening, I GPS’ed my way from my work office to a small brick building located in the Willard-Hay neighborhood of Minneapolis. The front of the building wore an unassuming beige while its sides featured murals (or graffiti, I’m not sure). Two girls, one of them my liaison CATLYNN DANG, 18, greeted me out front and we walked through the building together.

The environment resembled that of a typical after school program. The building was a bit cramped and narrow, but comforting in its wornness. A couple of outdated desktop computers sat along a wall. Nearby, there was a fully stocked kitchen with food and drinks. Kids of all ages moved in and out to replenish and socialize. An adult was located somewhere in the periphery, sitting on her computer and allowing the kids to direct the space. Once we made it to the back, Catlynn opened a door, revealing a dance rehearsal space. My ears were immediately met with a barrage of laughter, shouts, and blasting music.

Meet the Tây Phương Lions, a Vietnamese American lion dance group.

Lion dance is a form of traditional dance popular in a handful of Asian countries including Vietnam, China, Japan, Korea, and Tibet. In Vietnam, it’s referred to as múa lân. Lion dance is usually performed during holidays, such as the Mid-Autumn Festival and Lunar New Year, and special occasions like business openings.

A lion is composed of two dancers: one acts as the head while the other acts as the tail. With their heads and torsos covered by a costume, the two dancers must move in tandem and coordinate to pull off impressive tricks like stacks, high kicks, and rolls. The dancers are accompanied by drummers, cymbal, and gong players.

If you’ve never witnessed lion dancing in real life, you’re missing out. Usually the highlight of any celebration, lion dance performances are full of action, drama, and humor. And if you grew up in an area with a Vietnamese community of any sort, it probably carries an element of nostalgia as well.

I hesitate to use the word “traditional” to describe the Tây Phương Lions because while they are well versed in Vietnamese traditions, they aren’t shy about incorporating aspects of American culture into their routines (see video of Tây Phương Lions dancing to Drake’s “In My Feelings”). They keep up with pop culture trends so that both younger and older generations can enjoy themselves. As Catlynn put it, the Lions truly are a Vietnamese American production.

Consisting of members with a wide range of age, experience and backgrounds, the troupe regularly travels across the state, and sometimes outside of it, to spread the joys of lion dancing. Some were introduced to lion dancing from a young age while others were roped in by friends, family, or acquaintances.

BRANDON CAO, 15, is a drummer and dancer in the group. For him, lion dancing has always been a part of the picture. Brandon’s mother was a lion dancer herself, and when he got his start with lion dancing, his sisters joined as well.

“My whole childhood is based on lion dancing,” said Brandon.

Out of the handful of members I spoke to, the youngest was 11 and the oldest was 20. The organization itself is also relatively young (it was founded a year and a half ago) but the dancers already have an impressive amount of gigs under their belt. Past gigs include high schools and college campuses, the famous Guthrie Theater, Mall of America, and Mystic Lake Casino, as well as venues outside of Minnesota.

With every performance comes nervous energy. ERIC VUONG, 20, is the group’s scheduling master. He breaks down the typical timeline: a morning group text, followed by a steadily buzzing atmosphere, some kind of struggle with time management, last-minute panic, then a huddle and motivational speech.

The group operates with surprisingly little adult supervision—and they do it well. Older members take on administrative responsibilities such as public relations, booking management, and recruitment. They even handle their own money and do their own networking to find performance opportunities. Through their contract with Asian Media Access—a Minneapolis-based non-profit focused on Asian-American youth advocacy—they get a rehearsal space and a few guaranteed gigs.

Public relations officer CHRISTINA DANG, 15, and co-recruitment director/public relations leader Catlynn admit that it can be a handful, but they find ways to manage.

While lion dancing at events and celebrations may seem like a lucrative gig, the members don’t actually pocket the profits. All proceeds from their performances go to Tu Viện Tây Phương, a Vietnamese Buddhist temple located in Savage, MN. Still, there are plenty of perks beyond monetary gain. When asked about their motivations to join the organization, the members gave responses that all boiled down to a few things: culture, camaraderie, and a genuine love for the art.

Many members see lion dancing as an opportunity to promote and participate in Vietnamese culture. As suburbanites living in predominantly white communities, they frequently occupy spaces where they feel isolated from their roots. Like many young Vietnamese Americans, they struggle to negotiate their Vietnamese and American identities and quickly learned that they can’t please everyone all of the time.

Nonetheless, they stick to their own truths and unapologetically celebrate their heritage.

“My family is very traditional… I think I’m too Asian when it comes to hanging out with friends, but still, when I come home my mom says I’m too white because I don’t act like a traditional Vietnamese girl… I never have the balance but eventually, I stopped caring about it,” said Catlynn.

Having ended up in a predominantly white suburb, Christina’s family was quick and skillful in adapting to American customs. The pressures of assimilation consequently impacted her relationship with Vietnamese culture. Although she knows her own truth, people have frequently pointed out to her that she is no different from a “white girl.” She acknowledges that she struggles to perform her Vietnamese identity in the traditional sense, which is why she was drawn to lion dancing.

“Being in lion dance really brings out my culture, especially since I don’t really speak Vietnamese that much. Just having something little like lion dance really keeps the culture intact for me,” said Christina.

Eric shares similar sentiments with Christina, although they come from a different place. As a person half-white and half-Vietnamese, he frequently encounters questions around his identity from both white Americans and Vietnamese people.

“When I was younger, I was fluent in Vietnamese. But then I got into the American education system and they put me in English as a Second Language (ESL) classes. I lost a lot of my ability to speak Vietnamese… It was rough when people saw me and told me I was not Asian or that I was too white,” said Eric.

Darrian and Allen practice stacks in the alleyway behind their dance studio.

The Tây Phương Lions feel a strong obligation to carry on Vietnamese traditions to younger generations of Vietnamese Americans. Although they are physically removed from their ancestral homeland, they use lion dance to connect themselves to their families and Vietnamese culture as a whole.

“My mom told me that people don’t live forever, but culture can. It’s the thing that ties us all together,” said Catlynn.

Simultaneously, they wish to spread an awareness and appreciation for Vietnamese lion dancing outside of the Vietnamese community. One shining example of their success in this area is 18-year-old HAYDEN GARRARD, who performs as a lion tail and helps schedule performances. He’s also the one white person on the team. He was invited to practice one day a little less than a year ago, and has stuck around since. Hayden does not pretend to be Vietnamese and cannot relate to many of the other team members’ experiences, but has a genuine interest in Vietnamese culture. He believes that it’s important to learn about histories and cultures outside of his own.

Socialization is another key motivating factor for members of the Tây Phương Lions. Part of the appeal of joining the group is the ability to make new friends, reconnect with old ones, and expand one’s social network. While many members find themselves surrounded by white classmates at school, they have the opportunity to gather with other Vietnamese kids at dance practice. Through their travels and participation in other cultural showcases, they also get to meet other people who are not Vietnamese but are equally dedicated to celebrating their own cultures.

The Lions don’t see themselves as friends, but rather, as a family. After countless practices, birthday parties, barbeques, and performances together, it’s hard not to consider each other family. This sense of community is vital to building trust—perhaps the most important ingredient for success in lion dancing. A lot can go wrong very quickly in a dance tradition where dangerous stunts are the norm. Pulling off a stack requires complete faith in one’s teammates, who must be ready to catch them if they fall. So far, the strategy of building trust and harmony is working. The Lions have yet to encounter disaster, although there have been a few close calls.

Hayden and Brandon perform a stack as their teammates spectate.

Darrian and Allen take a break.

Darrian and Allen strike a pose in lion costume.

PHILLIP HUYNH, 17, is a dancer on the team. He goes to high school in Blaine, a suburb just north of Minneapolis. Joining the Tây Phương Lions reconnected him with friends he didn’t see often and expanded his social circle. He also credits the group with providing him a sense of belonging that he struggled to find at school.

“When I was at school I didn’t feel like I was with the right people or that I was in a place that I was meant to be in. When I came here, it felt like home to me,” said Phillip.

DARRIAN TRAN, 11, is one of the youngest members on the team. Similar to Phillip, his favorite part about being a Tây Phương Lion is the community it comes with. After joining the group, Darrian was able to reconnect with a friend he had known for more than five years. As a younger member of the group, he looks up to the older kids and sees them as big brothers and sisters.

The Tây Phương Lions are always up to shenanigans with their inside jokes, meme reenactments and “surprise stacks.” But these Generation Z-ers mean business. As future generations of Vietnamese Americans become further removed from Vietnamese culture and the diaspora that started it all, they may look to groups like the Tây Phương Lions for guidance. It’s a great responsibility, but they understand the importance of their work. They are redefining the possibilities of Vietnamese American identity for future generations as we speak, taking the best parts of Vietnamese and American culture and refusing to live by rigid cultural binaries.

I’ll never understand their feverish consumption of meme culture, but I am confident when I say this: we’re in good hands.

Learn more about the Tây Phương Lions at: Facebook: TayPhuongLionsMN, Instagram: tayphuonglions