LOC HUYNH 50 PORTRAITS
Rendered in Huynh’s trademark graphic, cartoon-adjacent vernacular style, each portrait depicts a headshot of the protagonist against a solid, red background. The composition is intentionally emblematic of refugee identification photos in form, aspect ratio and scale, as well as the current flag of Vietnam, with a stark red background and yellow face (the star) in the middle.
Centering those individuals and their stories, the artist invites expansive conversations around, but not limited to: emigration from Vietnam, Vietnam’s liberation movements, the legacy of colonialism in Indo-China, the Cold War and Red Scare, nationalism and national identity, global anti-war movements, cultural hybridity, the power of storytelling and the democratization of portraiture. Establishing a broader sense of community with a shared public audience is core to the ethos of the project.
Name: A. J. Pham
Pronouns: She/Her
Age: 40
Profession/Occupation: High School Art Teacher and Artist
Location: Fort Worth, TX
“Both sides of my family arrived in the U.S. just as the war was ending. My mom, only 14 at the time, traveled by boat with her parents, siblings, and aunt. My dad, 27 and in the army, fled to the U.S. once the war concluded. His parents, siblings, and their children came over on their own. Neither of my parents has ever returned to Vietnam, and neither side of the family has strong ties there anymore. Some of my cousins have visited, but they experienced Vietnam more as tourists since we no longer have family there. I’ve never had the chance to go myself, though I’d love to someday, with my mom and my kids. There’s a part of me that longs to connect with the place where my ancestors are from, to see it with my own eyes.”
Name: C. A. T. Nguyen
Pronouns: She/her
Age: 28
Profession/Occupation: Youth Educator
Location: Austin, TX
“Lady Tinh was the matriarch of her family and a mother to seven children. In 1990, when the United States created the Humanitarian Operation (HO) program, she found the golden ticket that would transform the fate of her family. This program allowed the families of former reeducation camp prisoners to resettle in the United States, a place which promised freedom and opportunity--as long as they met all conditions of approval. Former prisoners who spent at least three years in the camp were qualified. Although her husband’s time spent was technically short a few months from eligibility, Lady Tinh was not deterred. Desperate to secure her children’s future, she took her chances and convinced the interviewers that her husband had served the minimum sentence. In the final interview, the woman and her husband brought each of their 7 children and lined them up in front of the interviewers. Here, she made her final appeal: “As you can see, my children are still young, with full lives still ahead of them. I will use my skills to run a business in America and work to provide for my family. Please. I ask you to have compassion for us.” And with that, the interviewer signed off on their paperwork. Lady Tinh was my grandmother, my bà nội, and her courageous plea for her family’s survival is the core of my family’s immigration story.”
Name: K. Nguyen
Pronouns: she/her
Profession/Occupation: Creative Director, Graphic Designer
Location: Austin, TX/ New York, NY
“Vietnam / on the tip of my tongue / a tickle, a sneeze / my mother remembers / chickens in the yard, a house fire, old friends / I see / sweltering heat, beef stew, a sea of motorcycles, and the sea / Vietnam / on my confused face / occidental grooves, lines from the orient / and whose nose / Vietnam / paralysis, pride, the overwhelming guilt / and the war, always the war”
Name: A. Le
Pronouns: He/They
Age: 39
Location: Washington, D.C.
Profession/Occupation: Artist
“I just got the courage to ask my parents about their immigration story in the past year. I only knew the broad strokes of how my parents came to the US in 1975, arrived at different refugee camps and met up in Michigan. I never knew how they felt about it until recently, and that is bringing our family together in a beautiful way. I have been to Vietnam twice and most recently in 2018. I’m always fascinated by how much Vietnamese I can understand although I can’t speak the language fluently. The combination of realizing that people in Vietnam can tell I’m American and how some are even surprised to find out I’m Vietnamese wiped away this yearning that I’d find belonging in the motherland. However, it has now freed me to understand that there is no right or wrong way to be Vietnamese, and I am embracing that as I try to be in community with Vietnamese folks today.”
Name: S. Tran
Pronouns: No Preference
Age: 31
Profession/Occupation: Marketing Media Supervisor (+ a lot of random side gigs)
Location: Denver, CO
“My dad was the third child of his father’s 7th wife. My mom was the adopted only child of her mother and father. Given that he’s missing from the family altar, I believe he was not a beloved parent/ partner. My dad, mom, maternal grandmother, and eldest brother immigrated to the US in 1989 - when my brother was still an infant. Then, once here, my older sister, myself, my younger sister, and then finally my younger brother came about. It was a big family. As such, we were never able to do a full family trip back to Vietnam. Though, there’s been sporadic journeys back and forth between everyone. Right now, the only ones who haven’t gone to Vietnam are myself and my younger brother. I’m planning a trip with friends next year. The family is planning a full family trip, with SILs and nieces and nephews, for 2028. Wish us luck!”
Name: L. G. Ngo
Pronouns: He/Him
Age: 41
Profession/Occupation: Importer of Live Tropical Fish, WoodWorker, Artist
Location: Anaheim, CA
“My parents made sure that I spoke Vietnamese as a child. It was my first language and I was only allowed to speak it at home. It was to the point that in elementary I was placed in ESL. I didn’t understand why they wanted me to speak a language I could only speak to them with. I was so annoyed by them. It wasn’t like they couldn’t speak English. I held that animosity until I just accepted that it was part of life. As I grew older, I learned the benefits of knowing another language.
I went to VN with an international business class, and part of our itinerary we were scheduled to take a row boat tour down a river. Had a wonderful conversation with the couple paddling and steering the boat. Them pointing out landmarks and telling me stories of the area. It was a great time. When we got back onto the bus I realized that no one else got the same experience. Everyone had said that the just sat there, no conversation whatsoever. Long story short, I now thank my parents for making me learn Vietnamese as a kid.”
Name: T. Pham
Pronouns: He/They
Age: 39
Profession/Occupation: Anthropologist, Community Organizer, Academic
Location: Jaödeogë - Pittsburgh, PA
“My parents left Vietnam three days before the Fall of Saigon. Since my father was a helicopter pilot, he managed to pick up my mom in the middle of the Phú Thọ Horse Racing Ground when he received word the city was falling to the Vietcong (National Liberation Front of South Vietnam). They came to America with $1 and settled in Erie, Pennsylvania where they raised me amongst a predominatelywhite population. In Erie, I experienced violent racism as well as the resiliency to survive.”
Name: M. Vo
Pronouns: She/her
Age: 27
Profession/Occupation: Artist
Location: Houston, TX
“During the Vietnam War, my maternal grandfather commanded one of the navy fleets. Realizing that the war was lost, he evacuated his crew to America. For a couple of years, he left behind his wife and five children while he secured his U.S. citizenship. Once his citizenship was finalized, he brought his family to the States. I feel connected to my roots through my engagement with Vietnamese culture. I hope to experience this culture firsthand in Vietnam one day.”
Name: J. T. Nguyen
Pronouns: He/him
Age: 29
Profession/Occupation: Chiropractor, Business Owner
Location: Keller, TX
“My grandpa served in the Army of the Republic of Vietnam and was able to get my maternal side of the family into the port of New Orleans, La. My grandpa would talk to us about the vietnam war and how tragic his experience was during that time. My father during that time did not go with my mother. To this day, he remembers being on the boat with very little food and water. He even witnessed someone passing away on the boat which makes him have PTSD about being on any boat / waters.”
Name: J. Luong
Pronouns: He/his/him
Age: 42
Profession/Occupation: Senior UX/UI designer
Location: Fort Worth, TX
“My story of Vietnam begins with my parent’s journey from Vietnam to the United States. My parents got married on May 17, 1981 in Saigon, Vietnam. They had a large Catholic wedding and celebration. From the photos I have seen of their big day, they appeared happy and so was everyone around them … my grandparents, my uncles, aunts and other relatives. What the photos did not depict was their plan to escape from Vietnam. One week into their marriage, they fled the country or according to my father, “đi vượt biên”. They traveled by boat to escape their native country becoming one of millions of Vietnamese boat people. Their goal was to make it to the United States and start new lives. From Vietnam they first arrived on a refugee island, Pulau Bidong, and stayed for nearly six months before continuing on to the Philippines and ultimately arriving to the U.S. in Texas. A few months later in 1982, I was born and thus became part of the first generation of my family to be Vietnamese Americans.
I have been to Vietnam only one time when I was a teenager and had the chance to finally meet all my grandparents and extended family.
As I grew older, I became very much interested in my Vietnamese heritage. I learned how to speak fluent Vietnamese by taking private tutoring lessons and to this day will occasionally read the news in Vietnamese to keep up with the language and current events in Vietnam. I’ve also experimented with cooking complex Vietnamese soups and dishes—especially the ones that you don’t typically see in Vietnamese restaurants in the States. I feel like doing these things will help me when I return to Vietnam to acclimate and blend in just like I had to do as a child in the States and acclimate to a ‘normal’ American upbringing.”
Name: Q. Boudwin
Pronouns: He/Him
Age: 30
Profession/Occupation: Filmmaker
Location: Los Angele, CA
“Being half Vietnamese, half African American, and growing up in a very assimilated American household, I didn’t actually learn much about my mom’s story until my teenage/college years. It wasn’t until I started asking tough questions did I begin to hear the stories, and it wasn’t until I started learning more about the war itself did I understand the context for these stories.
My family lived in Saigon, where my mom and her seven siblings were born and raised. My grandfather worked with the U.S., and in April 1975, as the city was being captured by the PVAN and Viet Cong, the entire family fled the city. From a dinghy boat, they watched their world go up in flames. The first stop was in Guam, then they landed in the states. They eventually ended up in the refugee camp in Fort Chaffee, Arkansas where they found a sponsor family and started a new life in Lynchburg, Virginia. A teenager at the time, my mom ran from home, leaving her family and the trauma of the refugee experience behind. As a filmmaker, it’s my goal to one day make something about her life and my family—including the fact that my paternal grandfather served in the Vietnam War and was stationed about 300 miles from my mom and her family in 1967. I’ve traveled to Vietnam before, and even visited the family’s former home. It is no longer a strange, dangerous, foreign place, but a place I loved being in and plan on returning to. Hopefully, this time with my mom.”
Name: A. Nguyen
Pronouns: he/him/they/them
Age: 31
Profession/Occupation: Freelancer
Location: Boston, MA/ Hue, Vietnam
“I was born in Tay Ninh and spent a small part of my childhood in Saigon. Around 4 years old, I was sponsored by my refugee grandparents to immigrate to Boston where my family eventually resettled and currently calls home. Vietnamese was my first language and I actually grew up speaking Vietnamese with my family and other children at school. Being an immigrant and learning English were formative experiences for me that shaped my understanding of Americanness. My identity as a Vietnamese-American immigrant has had a complex history. I have gone from hating the parts that made me Vietnamese, to renouncing my Americanness and Asianness, to overcompensating for the parts of me that felt incomplete and rejected, and ultimately to accepting that there is no singular Vietnamese experience.
I returned to Vietnam in 2013 for the first time since 1998. America had become my home and Vietnam was an old folktale I was trying to unearth. My dad’s side of the family is actually still in Tay Ninh and I was able to visit them on my first trip back. I do not keep close contact with them but it brought me closure to have met them and see my likeness on their faces and mannerisms. It was a reminder that I did have roots, and they extended beyond the Vietnam-American war and my family’s early immigrant days. I started Vănguard in 2014 as a way to connect with the queer community in Vietnam. Since then, the project has really taken off and we have built an international community of queer and trans Vietnamese artists. As a VietnameseAmerican, my interest lies in leveraging my transnationalism, queerness, and otherness to build a more inclusive and fluid future.”
Name: A. Chau (周門龍)
Pronouns: he/him
Age: 36
Profession/Occupation: Curator, Artist
Location: Norwalk, CT
“It’s taken me decades to learn the story of how my father travelled from Vietnam to the United States, though I always knew there was a boat involved. As the stories have come out, little snippets at a time, I’ve been able to piece together the journey of being a 1970’s Boat Person that fled the country because of Chinese persecution. With eight uncles and two aunts, my sister and I were the only ones who had a White mother and consequently did not learn Vietnamese or Cantonese like the rest of the family. Another difference was my hair - brown with copper red highlights - a color that every woman I met would tell me that I won the genetic lottery, yet my family would comment as ‘too White looking.’ Despite not knowing the full story, not changing my precarious hair color, or lacking mastery of any language; I still visit my family often, laugh, eat graciously, and bitch about rising grocery bills.”
Name: T. Bui
Pronouns: She/Her/Hers
Age: 48
Profession/Occupation: Banker
Location: New York, NY
“My family and I made our escape from North Vietnam when I was 5 by boat, sailing along the China coast until we were brought in by the Hong Kong coast guards. After about a year locked in a refugee camp, we landed in Salinas, Kansas. Sponsored by the Presbyterian Church, my family was taught English and tried hard to acclimate to the new way of life. Mom and Dad did not think we would survive well on either the farmer or the preacher lifestyle, and packed up for Boston to pursue better professional opportunities. Half of their dream died when my brother, Johnny, was diagnosed with severe autism. Both of my parents abruptly severed ties to any and all religion, ancestral ties and to Vietnam. They have never been back in their 42 years. I have visited Vietnam extensively twice in my thirties but I feel very little connection to the country, history, and culturekept alive by my parents and will most probably end with them.”
Name: N. Nguyen
Pronouns: He/him/his
Age: 39
Occupation/profession: Scientist at Regeneron Pharmaceuticals, Inc.
Location: Ossining, NY
“My family immigrated to the US in October of 1993 when I was 8 years old. We were sponsored by my paternal grandfather, who I never knew until we arrived in Houston, TX. We lived with my dad’s eldest sister for the first few months before moving out into an apartment called Thai Xuan Village, which, to my surprise, is still in existence. In Vietnam, my mom was a seamstress and my dad was a professional soccer player – neither of whom completed their high school education following the Communist Party takeover at the end of the Vietnam War; thus, my parents became blue-collar workers upon moving to the US – my mom became a manicurist and my dad worked for a small shop that machined parts for oil drilling companies.
The most vivid recollection I have of my family throughout much of my childhood are of my parents working really hard to build a brighter future for all of us. The hard work afforded my parents the means to purchase their first home within three years of moving to the US. At the same time, my parents’ dedication to their respective jobs meant that I was often neglected and had to learn to be independent at a very young age, which manifested into me not having a particularly strong relationship with my family or my Vietnamese heritage. Growing up, I went to schools that consisted of mostly Caucasians and I was often embarrassed of the most tangible cultural aspects of what it meant to be Vietnamese – the food (which is often pungent and smelly) and the language (which is phonetically unpleasant and complex). It was not until I entered graduate school that I began to embrace my identity as a Vietnamese American – aspiring to be more than stereotypes that have been attributed to our community. While I have never visited Vietnam since my family immigrated to the US and have little to no connection to Vietnam, I am slowly discovering, embracing, and feeling proud of my Vietnamese heritage.”
Name: N. Q. A. Hồ
Pronouns: she/hers
Age: 31
Occupation/Profession: educator, writer-artist & designer
current residence: Austin, TX
“I was born in Saigon and moved to Houston when I was 5 years old. I had a younger sister named Nini who was diagnosed with Neuroblastoma cancer, a condition that affected the developing nervous systems of children. Our family planned to temporarily move to the States – in Houston where we had family – for her medical treatment. Despite quality care at Texas Children’s Hospital, she didn’t make it. My parents decided to stay in the U.S. which was influenced by the fact that I had begun attending elementary school.
My relationship with Vietnam, the culture, and language has always been prevalent growing up in Houston – from family gatherings, going to Buddhist temple for Vietnamese classes, and growing up in Bellaire. During my childhood, my culture was more of a backdrop than any type identifying force in my life.
It wasn’t until I moved to Austin in 2012 – and have been living here since – that my connection to my roots and ancestry has resurfaced as a core facet of my identity, strength, and gifts in this lifetime. After my most recent trip in 2024, I am now working on my first solo exhibition called home waters: Nước Việt Nam directly translates to ‘water Vietnam.’ In the Vietnamese language, a country is represented by its waters, not its land. What a profound way to think about a place and its people - deep, ever moving, ever changing, and life giving.
I moved from Vietnam when I was 5 years old - over 25 years ago. In reflecting on my connection to my homeland not as one to land (solid and fixed) but to water (fluid and dynamic), I realize that my spirit is never truly separate from this sense of home. I believe that water connects all, and everything eventually returns to water. On this journey of reconnecting with my origins, I am remembering that I am a descendant of an enduring people – artists and artisans, poets and storytellers, mystics and magic makers, and stewards of the earth. I am remembering that I come from a place that is as abundant and diverse as it is breathtaking. And in this remembrance of my roots, I am coming home to myself.
This photography and poetry exhibition centers on my poem by the same name: home waters is home fluid or fixed? of substance or immaterial? my country is not of land but of water and so she flows to give me life, to wash my wounds, to renew my soul. and to water I return.”
Name: J. Ngo
Pronouns: She/Her
Age: 34
Profession: Designer, Artist
Location: Los Angeles, CA
“As I’m asking my mother to recount her experiences in Vietnam leading up to the war and their escape, I ask her questions in Vietnamese as she responds to me in unbroken English. It’s a testament to the effort my parents made to build a life in the US after the war.
In the 80s, my mom, her parents, and seven siblings fled Nha Trang. During their escape, the family was separated. My mom and some of her sisters were able to find temporary safety at a refugee camp in the Philippines. From there, they were sponsored to Dallas, and then reunited with the rest of her family when they were sponsored to arrive in the San Francisco Bay Area. As the eldest of his family, my dad and his brother escaped Saigon in search of refuge for their family. They were captured and imprisoned 28 times before being rescued by an American ship. During his imprisonment, his parents and seven other siblings were rescued by an Australian ship, eventually settling in Melbourne. My parents met in San Jose, California, where they quickly married and had me and my brother. My mom recounts their story with sadness, disdain, and a little bit of triumph. As often as we’ve been to Vietnam, my mom is very critical of the country and holds a lot of resentment. In her eyes, the country she once called home no longer exists. And yet, in my upbringing, she rigorously instilled a lot of our culture, tradition, and values – maybe in preservation of what she lost.
In leaving her country so early in life, I have seen how my mom struggled with losing her sense of identity and community. It’s shown up in how I was raised and her expectations of who she wanted me to become. Even so, because of the life they’ve left behind and had to rebuild, I have the foundations of my Vietnamese heritage and more – the opportunity to find my own identity and community as Viet Kieu and Vietnamese American.”
Name: T. H. Nguyễn
Pronouns: He/Him
Age: 83
Profession:
Location: Houston, TX
Profession/Occupation: Retired (Former alteration shop owner)
“My name is Nguyễn Hiến Triết, but I changed my name to Alpha Newgene. My family was not rich; we made just enough to afford food. At thirteen, I attended school for the first time but I could not make it to university later on because we were poor. I volunteered in the army and attended a Vietnamese military academy in Dalat, where people were trained to become high ranking officers, and graduated in 1965. I later volunteered into the airborne division in the Army of the Republic of Vietnam and was wounded in the war twice. One month before Saigon fell, I was captured in the battlefield and became a prisoner of the war. Because of that, I was moved to the U.S. with my wife and 4 children; we arrived in Houston, Texas in the afternoon of July 4th, 1991.
A new life began, and as ‘Alpha’ came from the Greek letter symbolizing the beginning, and ‘Newgene’ came from Nguyen, I wanted my name to represent good morals, honesty, a passion for learning that never ends, and being a good citizen of God now and forever. I always dream of my country Vietnam, but I know I’m on the way out of this world. I will work hard in my Father’s land, because I am proud of my life in this world— I have been an honest, patriotic citizen of goodwill in this world, the land of the brave and free.”
Name: V. Ma
Pronouns: He/Him
Age: 37
Profession/Occupation: Ecologist
Location: Baldwin, MI
“I was born as a first generation Asian- American. My parents immigrated here from Vietnam in the 70’s. Since then I’ve visited Vietnam twice with my parents. It was a unique experience visiting “The Motherland”. Seeing where my parents grew up and meeting their friends was and watching them reconnect was both a sad and happy experience. I noticed my Vietnamese was improving while we were there, and my younger sister was teaching me numbers in vietnamese. I enjoyed immersing myself with the culture; riding on the back of mopeds, drinking drinks from street vendors in plastic bags, and visiting local temples, eateries, and shops. Since visiting in 2006 I haven’t been back but my parents have on several occasions almost annually. Since my grandma passed in 2020 I’ve been wanting to connect more with my heritage. I’ve been dedicating time to learn Vietnamese and trying to keep a connection to my roots in a very white suburb of MI. It isn’t always easy and sometimes I do feel disconnected from the world I grew up in. But then I’ll run into a Vietnamese person at the grocery store or at the tailors and it’s refreshing. I’ve also made it a point to keep in contact with my parents and Asian friends.”
Name: T. Chau
Pronouns: She/Her
Age: 32
Profession/Occupation: Inventory Planner
Location: Austin, TX
“I am a first-generation Vietnamese-American, both of my parents were from Vietnam. I don’t have much of a relationship with my father’s family, so my experience comes from my maternal side. My mom’s family was very poor when they lived in Vietnam; she used to tell stories about walking to fetch water under the moonlight, catching snakes for dinner, and banging on pans to ward off pests from the rice fields.
My mom’s father (my grandpa) planned an escape from Vietnam over many years with my mom when she was a child. She had to leave her grandma who raised her without having a proper goodbye. On their journey, they faced intense turmoil at sea, with strong storms causing seasickness and an overcrowded boat to almost tip over many times. After several days, a British aircraft spotted them and sent a cargo ship to save them, where my family was assigned a nurse who asked where they wanted to land - England, America, or Canada. My family chose to put their roots in Canada, where they currently reside. My parents are no longer with us, but I feel a strong tie to Vietnam and the sacrifices that were made for my freedom.
I finally got to travel to Vietnam this October with my extended family, where we visited the city my parents were raised in called Sóc Trăng. I was introduced to many family members that I didn’t know before, and we were welcomed with open arms, having home cooked Vietnamese food everywhere we went. Everyone I met said I reminded them of my mom, and I felt that same warmth from them that she always carried. So I felt a beautiful connection to them, despite not being able to understand nor speak Vietnamese. I felt very at home in Vietnam, where I was able to lean into my culture and learn more about where I come from. I am so proud to know that’s where my roots lie.”
Name: V. Atienza “Ms. Cashmere”
Pronouns: she/her
Age: 31
Profession/Occupation: Artist, Museum Security, Love Researcher
Location: Austin, TX
“I am a first-generation Vietnamese-American, both of my parents were from Vietnam. I don’t have much of a relationship with my father’s family, so my experience comes from my maternal side. My mom’s family was very poor when they lived in Vietnam; she used to tell stories about walking to fetch water under the moonlight, catching snakes for dinner, and banging on pans to ward off pests from the rice fields.
My mom’s father (my grandpa) planned an escape from Vietnam over many years with my mom when she was a child. She had to leave her grandma who raised her without having a proper goodbye. On their journey, they faced intense turmoil at sea, with strong storms causing seasickness and an overcrowded boat to almost tip over many times. After several days, a British aircraft spotted them and sent a cargo ship to save them, where my family was assigned a nurse who asked where they wanted to land - England, America, or Canada. My family chose to put their roots in Canada, where they currently reside.
My parents are no longer with us, but I feel a strong tie to Vietnam and the sacrifices that were made for my freedom.
I finally got to travel to Vietnam this October with my extended family, where we visited the town my parents were raised in called Sóc Trăng. I was introduced to many family members that I didn’t know before, and we were welcomed with open arms, having home cooked Vietnamese food everywhere we went. Everyone I met said I reminded them of my mom, and I felt that same warmth from them that she always carried. So I felt a beautiful connection to them, despite not being able to understand nor speak Vietnamese. I felt very at home in Vietnam, where I was able to lean into my culture and learn more about where I come from. I am so proud to know that’s where my roots lie.”
Name: S. Williams
Pronouns: She/They
Age: 24
Profession/Occupation: Graduate Student
Location: Richmond, VA
My family (mainly, my mother, uncle, and I) are what some would call Con Mỹ Lai. ‘War babies’ is often used as well and despite their usually derogatory notions, we’ve never let these terms solely define us. My Bà ngoại met my Grandfather in 1967 and they had two children—my mother Chau and my uncle Bao. They left in 1983 due to the start of a program reuniting Vietnamese children of American military personnel. Settling in Mclean, then to Herndon, and now spread throughout Northern Virginia, I’ve always had a strong connection to our culture and traditions. Sometimes people are shocked to hear Black folks speaking Vietnamese. Being Black/ Afro-Vietnamese (I rarely use the word “and”) is an interesting space. Our lives are entwined within the American imperialist project, yet, just like the term Con Mỹ Lai, we continue to live and thrive despite this definition. “
Name: A. T. Ngo
Pronouns: She/Her
Age: 27
Profession/Occupation: Aerospace tooling engineer
Location: Detroit, MI
“My father arrived in the United States like many Vietnamese refugees between 1975 and 1980s, by boat. He eventually, with the help of his siblings, moved the rest of the family to Louisiana, then Texas, where most of us grew up. Eventually, we were raised by my mom for the remainder of our lives. Growing up, we didn’t have much money to visit Vietnam, but we maintained a balance of both cultures at home. My mom would speak to us in Vietnamese, and we would respond in English. She would make us dress in traditional Ao dài for Tết, we would slump our shoulders and force a smile for pictures, only secretly cheering up when getting in line from oldest to youngest, for our annual red envelope. And begrudgingly, we would go to Sunday school and mass, every weekend. I didn’t see the importance of all the things she would have us take part in until I got older and understood that all the traditions and lessons were pieces from her Vietnam that she wanted us to experience too.”
Name: P. Pham Hughes
Pronouns: she/they
Age: 56
Profession/Occupation: social sculptor
Location: Washington, DC.
“I grew up in a Black and White city in the American South. The only other Asian family in our community was Korean. I never learned how to be Vietnamese. Everything I learned about being American came from television, books, and school. I grew up in the 70s and 80s when the American War in Vietnam was still something to feel ashamed of. Every movie in that era depicted Vietnamese people as either ruthless killers, helpless victims in need of American salvation, or ‘exotic’ objectified women. I learned to be small and quiet as I melted into the great melting pot of America. It wasn’t too difficult to assimilate because I couldn’t speak Vietnamese and I didn’t look like a ‘real’ Vietnamese person due to my father’s European DNA. ‘Real’ Vietnamese people never thought of me as Vietnamese anyway. I eventually learned that I could be both Vietnamese and American, and I could also be a writer, a reader, a cat lover, a surfer, an art collector, a traveler, a BBQ enthusiast, and on and on. I contain multitudes, and that’s what makes me a great American.”
Name: T. Nguyen
Pronouns: She/Her
Age: 30
Profession/Occupation:IT System Admin
Location: Orlando, FL
“My dad immigrated from Vietnam with his two sisters and nephew to the United States. In the neighborhood where they lived, everyone knew who they were and where you worked, which was a doubleedged sword. The neighborhood spies reported to the Vietnamese government who worked for the United States and named my aunt. My aunt had no choice but to flee for her life. My aunt, who had a good working relationship with a colonel, told her to have a go bag ready because he knew the US were going to pull out soon and told her to get ready to leave. He had a spot on the plane for her and her family which ended up being my dad, nephew and his other sister. They were going after Vietnamese people that were working for the United States and imprisoning them for being a traitor. It was life or death, they had to do everything possible to get on the plane, luckily, they made it on the plane. Assimilating and wanting to fit in was a struggle for my dad, on top of that being a teenager. I also felt that same feeling when I started school for the first time, not knowing English or even other races as I grew up around my aunts, uncles and cousins. It was a challenge as there were no Asians in my class, the only races were African American or White. I did not feel I could relate to them as they did not look like me. There weren’t many Vietnamese or let alone other Asians in Dayton, OH where I grew up. Vietnam to me is the motherland where my parents came from. I have been to Vietnam twice, both times to visit family. It showed me how they lived in Vietnam and versus how I live in the United States, how we value things differently, but we still have the same mindset of always being with family. Even though I have not been back recently, I know the door is open to me to connect more with my roots.”
Name: T. Quach
Pronouns: She/They
Age: 28
Profession/Occupation: Social Media Manager
Location: Chicago, IL
“Last year was the first time I returned to Vietnam after 20 years. My bà nội who raised me passed away and I took the first flight back. We buried her on the 49th anniversary of the war ending.
As sad as I was, I felt so much peace for her. She didn’t have to tell me what she went through because I saw it through the way she moved in life. I used to be annoyed when she made me eat more than I could until I remembered when she was 9 her mother died from the famine. Or when she cried when I found her favorite Cải lương tape on YouTube because they threw out her vinyl during the war.
Just because the war ended, doesn’t mean there’s no long-term impact. My best friend Kali told me with much generational trauma, there’s generational strength. I hope I never lose that strength.”
Name: C. Q. Nguyễn
Pronouns: She/Her
Age 39
Profession/Occupation: Designer
Location: Austin, TX
“In Vietnam, my Ba Ngoai was a savvy businesswoman and my Ong Ngoai was an educator who provided a privileged life for their 14 children. When the war began, my family lost almost everything. Grandma went to jail for several months for trying to help her children escape and Grandpa died in prison. 9 of them managed to survive refugee camp and make it to the US in the 80s; and Ba Ngoai and my two aunts later joined us in the early 90s. My one and only visit to VN was 30 years ago this summer--so I am fairly disconnected. As for my family, they’ve now spent more of their lives in the US than Viet Nam--perhaps this is why there are less stories to share. Now that I have children of my own, I struggle to integrate Vietnamese culture into their daily lives. Despite what VN went through and the hardships my family experienced, Viet Nam to me is that of my grandparents: intellectual, beautiful, and full of opportunities.”
Pronouns: She/Her
Age: 49
Profession/Occupation: Physician, visual artist, public speaker
Location: Austin, TX
“I always say I was conceived in Vietnam and born in the U.S. My parents left in the middle of the night during the fall of Saigon in April 1975 as one of the boat people. They were fortunate enough to be picked up by the U.S. Navy and sent to a refugee camp in central PA. It took almost 20 years later for me to finally return to Vietnam and although everyone knew just by looking at me, I was American, I felt an instant knowing and comfort being back in my homeland.
Since that visit, I have longed to return but haven’t been able to due to the demands of being a doctor and mom. However, I’ve been trying to connect with my cultural identity and to heal intergenerational trauma through my work as an artist and talking to AAPI communities and college students about mental health, the importance of sharing our stories as children of immigrants, and celebrating our unique perspectives through the arts. I’m happy to say I am planning to take my children back to Vietnam next year, exactly 50 years after my parents left.”
G. S. Pham
Pronouns: They/Them
Age: 34
Profession/Occupation: Board-Certified Psychiatrist
Location: Austin, TX
“My mother was 10 and my father was 11 when they immigrated to the U.S., shortly before the war. They were each the eldest child in their family and a lot of responsibility and pressure fell upon them, naturally. My mother wanted to become a physician but ended up getting a BA in accounting to support her family after her father was diagnosed with lung cancer (he passed away when I was 2). My father attended Baylor College of Medicine for medical school on an Air Force scholarship and burned out during residency, only completing his first year. I was born in Jacksonville, Arkansas when my father was stationed there. I have never visited Vietnam, though my father wishes to (my mother states she is okay never going back). I would like to visit once I have a bit more stability in my life, though I have a lot of chips on my shoulder to overcome. My parents didn’t teach me Vietnamese when I was growing up, so I don’t speak the language. I also fear that my physique will incur ridicule from the locals, as I have a larger frame than most native Vietnamese. I think that it is important to visit, and hopefully I’ll be in an ideal state of mind to make the journey when I do!”
Name: M.L.V. Sweezie
Pronouns: They/Them
Age: 24
Profession/Occupation: Artist
Location: Kalamazoo, MI
“I am a biracial, second generation Vietnamese-American through my maternal family. My family is originally from Hanoi, but moved to Saigon during the first French war. My grandfather served in both wars fighting alongside the French and Americans until the Fall of Saigon. My maternal family fled the country in 1975 and settled in Kalamazoo, Michigan where most of them would live out the rest of their lives. My parents traveled back to Hanoi with my siblings and I after I was born, there we lived for about five years while my parents conducted Christian missionary work. I was fortunate to have a childhood growing up in Vietnam however many of my memories have faded from me. I recently returned to Vietnam to conduct a personal research trip studying Vietnamese ceramics in the village of Bát Tràng for six months. Lastly, I want to state that my perception of Vietnam is different from that of my parents and grandparents. I feel as though my older generations have abandoned support for a postwar Vietnam – longing for a traditional motherland that perhaps never existed. As well, my parents’ Christian and US-aligned beliefs of Vietnam greatly differ from my own. Growing up I had to discern between American narratives, my family’s beliefs, and my own personal perception of Vietnam. This discernment and negotiation of narratives is something I still frequently visit in my own personal art practice.”
Name: A.L. Kearney
Pronouns: She/her
Age: 27
Profession/Occupation: Policy Analyst
Location: Austin, TX
“My mom is Vietnamese, born in Da Nang and came to the US as a refugee with the Cam Ranh City Christian Orphanage when she was 8. Following the fall of Saigon, they were some of the last children out of the country and eventually landed in Texas thanks to the sponsorship of the Buckner Children’s Home in Dallas. The Cam Ranh orphans have stayed in touch and maintained a community that holds reunions, rallies around each other in times of need, and supports philanthropic work to sustain orphanages in Vietnam. My mom married an American, my father who is white, but our home was a blended multi-generational and multi-cultural one where Vietnamese culture and traditions were preserved and promoted by my tiny-but-mighty Ngoai, and integrated with American traditions and culture from my father’s influence. The blending of these cultures and values has influenced me all my life, eventually leading me to pursue a career in politics as a way to give back and play a small role in helping realize the promise of this country for us and for refugees around the world. By working towards an America as free and equal and beautiful as my Mom and her orphanage family believed it would be when they arrived on these shores and began their American dream almost 50 years ago.”
Name: T.D. Nguyen
Pronouns: She/Her/They/Them
Age: 48
Profession/Occupation: Writer
Location: Austin, TX/New Orleans, LA
“I was a child boat person refugee (toddler at the time) who escaped Vietnam in the late 1970s with my parents, some of their students and a maternal uncle. We somehow survived the perilous journey at sea where literally hundreds of thousands of those like us died, taking theirs and their family’s stories with them. I was almost kidnapped by Thai pirates. My mother’s begging worked to get me back. After making it to land and surviving in remote jungles, we made it to a refugee camp and stayed at a few of them. My parents and I are alive today because of the kind help of Indonesian strangers and the international humanitarian group Doctors Without Borders. Besides being born in Vietnam, I have never been back. I speak, read and write the Vietnamese language due to it being used growing up in our household. Like you, Vietnam is foreign to me even though my parents retained the culture at home.”
Name: T. A. Nguyễn
Pronouns: she/her/hers
Age: 45
Profession/Occupation: Educator, Poet, Painter
Location: Gaithersburg, MD
“My family migrated from Saigon to Florida by way of New Orleans, and settled where they could grow the same produce that they did in Vietnam. I grew up in the Chinese buffets and sushi bars that my family owned, on the beaches of Sanibel, and surrounded by bitter melon, sugar cane, and mangos in our yards. The first time I returned to Vietnam was in my 20s, and I visited my brother who was studying there. We met some of our maternal relatives for the first time. The second time I returned was in 2024, and I met my husband’s family in Hanoi. I also took my children to Vietnam for the first time, and they fell in love with the beaches of Ha Long Bay, and the nightlife and street food of Hanoi. I’m so grateful that being self-employed allows me to choose jobs where I get to work with the local Vietnamese community in the DC/MD/VA area; it’s so affirming when I work with Viet artists, and I hope to raise my children surrounded by inspiring Vietnamese people.”
Name: J. Do
Pronouns: she/her
Age: 26
Profession/Occupation: Graphics Coordinator
Location: Austin, TX
“Both of my parents emigrated to the one and only Lone Star state during the fall of Saigon. Both of my parents grew up in Đà Nẵng. Hilariously, my parents have known each other since childhood due to the fact that my mischievous Ma threw a rock at my Ba’s DIY kite. Like other victims of the Vietnam War, my parents successfully survived a harrowing journey across the sea on a small boat with other fellow refugees. I have only visited the motherland once when I was 3 years old; I can recall running up and down the stairs of my bà ngoại’s house (I thought having stairs was bad and bougie), my cousin keeping me afloat at the beach, motorcycle rides, and yelling ‘con chó’ whenever I saw any puppers (my current Viet literacy is still of a 3 year old, but Preply is coming in clutch). I feel in between in terms of my identity. I grew up being told that I am conservative (such as being afraid of MSG) on my Asian side, but liberal on my American side. And since I am a first-generation kiddo, I feel degrees of separation from my Viet side as I am not fluent in the language and am Texas born/raised. Despite this, I am proud to be Vietnamese American as I am grateful to experience the duality of being a part of these communities.”
Name: S. L.
Pronouns: they/them/theirs
Age: 25
Profession/Occupation: Ceramic Artist
Location: Fayetteville, AR
“My maternal family left Vietnam in 1975 at the end of the war and arrived in the US later that spring. Many extended family members still live in Vietnam and several closer family members have returned to visit; however, I have never been. Vietnam, as I understand it, exists in my familial memory as a place of simultaneous peace and displacement, safety and danger - a site of heritage that my family is proud to claim while existing as a marker of identity invoked against them in their life in the United States. Though my mixed-race, queer, trans identities are at odds with the values and beliefs held by my family, I endeavor to know and honor that I am connected to the place they (and I, through them) come from. One day I hope to go to Vietnam, but for now, I hold facets of the place through a commitment to learning my family’s history, food, and cultural practices.”
Name: L. Bui, PhD
Pronouns: she/her
Age: 36
Occupation/profession: Academic, Activist, Artist, Athlete, Climate Change and Disaster Resilience Manager in Philanthropy
Location: Costa Mesa, CA
“My parents are refugees of the Vietnam War. My dad was a boat person and lived in a refugee camp in the Philippines and another one in Thailand before moving to the U.S. He and my mom met in the States and started our family in southern California. My mom is one of ten children, and on her side alone, I have 13 cousins. They both run their own tax business in Little Saigon, Orange County, CA. My brother and I have visited Vietnam a handful of times to meet relatives and see the places where our parents grew up in Saigon and Long Xuyên. Navigating my Vietnamese American identity has been a core part of my adult life -- there has been an ebb and flow of moving toward it, moving away from it, and moving toward it again to find the edges of what is Vietnamese in me, what is American in me, and what is something else uniquely me entirely. I long for ways to collectively make meaning out of being part of the diaspora experience, especially around the question: at what point are you a descendant carrying on a legacy and at what point do you become an ancestor who is creating one?”
Name: T. N. Mai
Pronouns: They/He
Age: 35
Profession/Occupation: Artist, Art Organizer, Activist
Location: Worcester, MA/ Hue, Vietnam
“Raised by a single mother who embodies the qualities of both a fighter and a healer, I carry with me the indomitable spirit of resilience and compassion. My earliest memory is tinged with the bittersweet realization that life’s moments, once passed, can never be revisited. The memory of riding on the back of my father’s bike to the park was a journey marked by my tears. As our memories evolve, so too does our understanding of the world around us. In hindsight, I carry the weight of regret, knowing that it was the last opportunity to share a moment with my father.
My artistic exploration is a journey into the depths of human connection, seeking to unravel the enigmatic expressions, actions, and emotions that bind us. I acknowledge that we are often connected through the intricate web of misunderstandings, and I do not rush to correct these misconceptions. Instead, I yearn for the slow, transformative power of time to bring about change. In my photography, I capture desires, sometimes leaving questions unspoken in the ephemeral moment. My mission is to approach my subjects with an intimacy that transcends the superficial, for I believe that genuine connection lies within those vulnerable instances.
My dedication to the LGBTQ community in Vietnam has been a cornerstone of my youth. I co-founded Vanguard, a zine that amplifies the voices of contemporary LGBTQ artists and writers. This project was acknowledged by the Library of Congress in 2019, cementing its significance in preserving our narratives. I have had the privilege of sharing my insights and experiences at the U.S. Embassy, MIT, Northeastern University, Dia Project and various spaces in Vietnam and U.S.
My pursuit towards artistic expression has led me to co-founded Cháo Chaosdowntown, the first multidisciplinary art hostel in Vietnam. Much like my photography, the exhibitions are grounded in the idea of forging friendships, offering a diverse discourse, and empowering emerging Vietnamese artists to explore these unconventional methods of trial and errors. In 2024, I founded an Art Residency Program called AirHue, located in the ancient capital of Vietnam. The space encapsulates national and international artists to explore, experiment and train new crafts through various forms, from traditional techniques such as lacquer, Pháp Lam to electronic soundscapes. AirHue aims to be a platform for incubation and research as much as a work-based residency. As I grapple with the lingering questions surrounding that fateful day on the back of my father’s bike and the very nature of misunderstanding, I invite you to join me on a journey into the essence of communication. Through my art, I seek to challenge perceptions, evoke emotions, and foster a deeper connection between us all. In the midst of uncertainty, I find solace in the belief that understanding, like art, is a process that unfolds over time.”
Name: C. Nguyen
Pronoun: she/her
Age: 54
Profession/Occupation: Consultant, Community Engagement
Location: New Orleans, LA
“I came to America in 1975 at the age of 5 years old with my family. I haven’t been home since I left. I have a family now. I still value and practice many of our cultures and traditions. I will always love and remember Vietnam but America is home for us. I can’t imagine life with my husband, 6 children, 2 granddaughters and 2 sons-in-law. I feel that I am connected to Vietnam because of the rich Vietnamese community where I live where we celebrate many of our traditions.”
Name: B. T. Harris
Pronouns: He/Him
Age: 29
Profession/Occupation: Artist, Art Professional
Location: Brooklyn, NY
“My family called Quang Thuan, a village tucked into the rolling hills North of Da Nang, their home. In 1975, the Viet Cong descended from the north, and they had no choice but to flee. They traded gold and treasured heirlooms for a place on a fishing boat bound for Vung Tau, the closest beach to Ho Chi Minh, where they had heard navy ships would pick up evacuees heading to the United States. After a week at sea, they were taken to an army camp in Guam, where they spent a few weeks before being flown to Fort Indiantown Gap in Pennsylvania. Afterwards, they were placed with a sponsor family in Schenectady, New York, where they lived until 1978. Seeking to be closer to relatives, my family moved to Houston, Texas, and would later settle in Humble, carving out a new home amidst the remnants of war and the quiet hope of beginning again. For myself, I long for a place that I will never truly know and exist in a space that was never meant for me.”
Name: T. Trần
Pronoun: she/her/hers
Age: 32
Profession/Occupation: Actress
Location: Los Angeles, CA
“My parents came to the U.S. at different times during the Vietnam War, my mother with her family and my father with his crew mates. But both were very similar stories in which they were fleeing on boats and eventually picked up by a ship that brought them to America where they met for the first time years later. My parents have been back to Việt Nam many times since, and I’ve only gone once in 2019. As I recalled the story of my visit and how it felt to be immersed in my culture, someone asked me, ‘Is it your culture though?’ Sure, I was born in the States and grew up here with my parents becoming more americanized, but I still grew up studying việt ngữ, playing bầu cua during Tết, and sang Vầng Trăng Khóc during karaoke with all my family. As foreign as Việt Nam was to me, it still felt comforting because it made me feel connected to my parents and the traditions they’ve brought from their motherland. So yes, it is still my culture and my people because to me, I am always Vietnamese first.”
Name: G. Nguyễn
Pronouns: He/Him
Age: 25
Profession/Occupation: Motion Graphics Designer
Location: Brooklyn, NY
“It’s tough to ask my family things because somehow, it always feels like the gaps in their stories are left open for me to fill. I don’t know much about their story, other than the perilous journey that my mom and her 2 younger brothers had to make after Saigon fell. Her vague story pieces barely fit together, like the refugee camp, or getting their ID photos taken in Thailand, or how it felt to be a teenager starting all over again in America. I wish I knew more, and I’ll probably spend my entire life trying to complete her puzzle. But in the spring of 2023, we finally visited HCM and I realized something during our time together. That gap I was trying to fill for my mother was actually back here, back at home. For the first time in my life, I felt like my mother was whole.”
Name: T. Ngo
Pronouns: She/Her
Profession/Occupation: Product Marketer
Location: Houston, TX
“My family immigrated to Houston, Texas when I was five years old. We didn’t have any other extended family members, and I remember it feeling a bit lonely as an only child. I have a young nephew and niece now who I see weekly, and it’s amazing watching them grow up as Viet-American children. We share an experience unlike what our parents had to endure, and I’m grateful I have the opportunity to be an aunt and guide them.
I’ve only been back to Vietnam twice, once in middle school and again in college. It’s always an interesting experience as everyone welcomes me with loud voices and good food. Sometimes, it’s overwhelming, but at my core, I appreciate how they’ll always have a space for me, a stranger who grew up an ocean over.
Growing up as a minority in the US, I sometimes cling to the memory of me in the bustling streets of Vietnam, full of people with black hair and teardrop-shaped eyes. It feels like a warm embrace in those memories, filled with people who look like me.”
Name: J. Ly
Pronouns: He/Him
Age: 35
Profession/Occupation: LMS admin at University of North Texas
Location: Bedford, TX
“My parents immigrated to the states at different times, met in Texas in the mid 80s, and had my brother and me in the late 80’s, early 90’s. We grew up celebrating Viet holidays and eating Viet food. I brought Viet food to school for lunch and left feeling ashamed for bringing ‘stinky’ food. It took living my life as a proud queer, trans adult to unlearn that shame and replace it with pride. These days there is nothing but pride when I think about the balance of flavors, textures, and fresh ingredients that is Viet food.”
Name: C. H. Nguyen
Pronouns: she/her
Age: 32
Profession/Occupation: Executive Assistant to the Environment Department at Boston City Hall, Drag Performer
Location: Boston, MA
“My dad fought in the Vietnam war alongside with the southern Vietnamese soldier, after we lost the war he was put into a reeducation camp. After serving for 7-8 years there was a program “Operation HO” refers to the ‘Humanitarian Operation’ program, which allowed former Vietnamese political prisoners from reeducation camps to immigrate to the United States after the Vietnam War. My family were given the options between either Boston or California and my dad chose Boston due to the education here.
Growing up both queer and Asian wasn’t easy. I was the youngest and the only one to be born in the US. My family comes from the war torn country of Vietnam, my brother who was Mormon converted me into the church and my other brother used to beat me up for my femininity. I also recently legally changed my name from Hung to Candace.
I also recently legally changed my name from Hung to Candace. An Hung was the district that my grandparents grew up in. Candace came from Can-Dance and has been my stage name which slowly adapted to the name I use socially. But I kept Hung as my middle name, having transitioned a little later in life, there were experiences and lessons pre-candace that I wanted to remember and didn’t want to let go of.
There also weren’t a lot of positive words in Vietnamese that described anyone who was queer. Oftentimes there is this unsaid debt that we owe to our families that brought us over to the US for a better life. I recently learned that the word for Trans in Vietnamese was Nguoi Chuyen Gioi which could be a loose interpretation of a person crossing worlds and that aligns with how I feel. It makes me connect with my family having to ‘cross borders’ to achieve whatever it is that they were looking for, a better life, happiness, a new start and for me ‘crossing worlds’ - transitioning was my better life, happiness and new beginnings.”
Name: H. Dina
Pronouns: She/her
Age: 50
Occupation/profession: Founder and Strategy Partner of HD Strategies LLC, a boutique strategy and investor relations consulting firm
Location: Los Angeles, CA
“I was born in Vietnam, grew up in New Caledonia, and then, immigrated to Los Angeles, California in my teens. New Caledonia is a French territory and island located in the South Pacific, just south of Vanuatu and east of Australia. There are about 2,300 Vietnamese French living in New Caledonia, including my family. I have extended family spread across Western Europe, New Caledonia and the US. My mother and her siblings each left Vietnam under different circumstances that are still not fully understood by me, partly because they only tell their stories in bits and pieces during family gatherings. I visited Vietnam on my own in my 20’s and felt like a tourist in my native land. I’m connected to Vietnam through my family’s memories and through food, and I feel a strong kinship with other Vietnamese who immigrated to Europe or the United States after the fall of Saigon.
I ponder the question of what it means to be Vietnamese in America, in France, or in any other country where immigrants like me make our lives now. My mother sometimes called me ‘Viet toi’ (fake Vietnamese) when I did something that reflected too much western cultural influence, and just the other day, my teenage daughter asked me to cut a jackfruit because, even though it was my first time dissecting one, she thought I was ‘more Vietnamese’ than her and could probably handle it better. Whether we feel like we are not Vietnamese enough or too Vietnamese is not the question we should be asking. Rather, how does our individual journey change us and shape us into who we are, and how do we better tell our diverse stories and experiences to define our own identity as a group? Projects like yours push us to do this better together, and as individuals.”
Name: Y. D. Madden
Pronouns: She/her
Age: 50
Occupation/profession: English Professor
Location: Des Moines, IA
“My middle name is my Vietnamese mother’s maiden name. My mother’s Vietnamese name was Lé Thi Bach Yen, which my aunt told me translates to white bird. My mother was Vietnamese, but she was raised in Phnom Penh, Cambodia by my Vietnamese grandpa, Lé Dinh Dieh, who was a doctor, and my Vietnamese/Chinese grandmother, Kim Leng.
My mother left Phnom Penh in 1961 to study in Europe and met my father, an American studying abroad, in Madrid, Spain. She moved to the United States in 1965. Her family, most of whom remained in Cambodia, fled the Khmer Rouge in 1974-1975 by escaping to Vietnam and eventually relocating to Paris and California.
As the child of an American father and a Vietnamese mother, I was raised in a primarily white suburb outside of Chicago in the 1980s and 90s, so my primary experiences in relationship to Vietnam were through my mother’s cooking, her stories, and visiting my Vietnamese relatives in California and Paris. I have been lucky to visit both Vietnam and Cambodia and hope to visit again soon.”
Pronouns: He/him/his/any
Age: 32
Profession/Occupation: Licensed Psychotherapist, mental health
Location: Los Angeles, CA
“My parents are Vietnamese boat people refugees. My mother’s family, Chinese-Vietnamese (Người Hoa - Teochew), escaped the Southern tip in the late 70s, rescued by Operation Seasweep and finding refuge in a Singaporean camp before reaching Carmel-bythe-Sea. My father’s family fled to Malaysia, eventually picked up by a Japanese ship bound for Osaka. He spent a year there before finding sponsorship near Houston.
My own relationship with Vietnam has been a lotus blooming through mud. Our first date in the summer of 2001? A Monsoon. Food poisoning, fever-induced delirium, and the stark wealth disparity between my cousins and me, the poverty in my mother’;s countryside home (Miền Tây). My Vietnam was far from the popular image Western tourists boast today. It was ultimately the sameage children selling lottery vé số, eating our leftovers, that held up a mirror to a parallel life I vehemently rejected. I buried those feelings, drowning them in the muddy waters from the flash flood that we endured through in the countryside that summer.
Adolescence was spent chasing a borrowed identity – white images of America first (Abercrombie, Hollister, Disney Channel) followed by ‘cooler’ East-Asian cultural elements such as the first two Korean Hallyu waves, Chinese wuxia films, Japanese gaming (Gameboy, Playstation, Nintendo) and anime. Anything but my own roots. Eventually, it was the arts/humanities in college, Buddhism, Taoism, and therapy that brought me back, a slow reintegration of those muddy waters. This blossomed into a dedicated mental health and wellness therapy practice, where I hold space for identity, loneliness, and alienation, especially for Asian Americans, and most tenderly, for Southeast Asians and Vietnamese Americans. To this end, I feel much like the lotus which blooms and bears fruit at the same time; only by pouring back into my community, do I feel parts of myself becoming more whole. My 2025 return to Vietnam was healing, integrative. Now, I envision a future with a part-time residency there, more frequent trips, building a bridge between East and West, cultivating that liminal space that can feel so empty as an AsianAmerican.”
Name: J. V. Luu
Pronouns: He/Him
Profession/Occupation: Designer, Professor
Location: Austin, TX
“My parents and older brother arrived in America as refugees sometime between 1979 and 1981, after passing through refugee camps throughout Southeast Asia. The exact details are fuzzy to me because no one in my family likes talking about fleeing their homeland. They were accompanied by my dad’s parents, his three sisters, a brother-in-law and a nephew, and arrived through San Francisco, eventually settling in Houston, Texas. My parents were not wealthy or traditionally educated, and they worked various (and probably typical) immigrant jobs: janitor, line cook, sweatshop. Eventually, they purchased a small business (a liquor store), which they operated for more than 30 years.
Vietnam is a place that has only existed in my imagination until recently, a dream state kept alive by the values, traditions and spoken language of my family. When I visited Saigon as an adult in my 30s, without my family, I felt like I was coming home, but to a place I had never been before. I cried. I’m crying. I will cry.”
Name: A. H. Vo
Pronouns: He/Him/His
Age: 21
Occupation/profession: Student at University of Houston, studying Digital Media/Technology Leadership and Innovation Management
Location: Houston, TX
“Growing up, my family was constantly burdened by debt, with my father serving as our sole source of income. We were perpetually on the move, unable to afford stable housing and often settling in makeshift dwellings near swamps and rough terrain. Following the advice of my grandparents, who had immigrated after the war, we sought a fresh start abroad to escape our financial struggles. Since leaving Vietnam, I’ve never returned. Furthermore, my relatives in Vietnam are on my father’s side but because he had left our family, I battle with reasons why I should visit. Despite the physical distance and mental remembrance, I still long for the landscapes and sense of community that defined my upbringing in Vietnam, a place I still hold dear in my heart. Though I’ve become disconnected from Vietnam over time, it remains an intrinsic part of my identity and the foundation upon which I’ve built my life. My dream is to one day revisit Vietnam, bringing support and resources to the marginalized communities that once shaped my own experiences.”
Name: N. Kates
Pronouns: She/her
Age: 55 years old
Profession/Occupation: Kates-Ferri Projects art gallery founder
Location: New York, NY
“My father was an American soldier that served in both the Korean and Vietnam war. It was born in Vietnam where my father, Clarence, met my mother, Mai. I was the second of their kids born in VungTau, Vietnam during the war. When Vietnam fell to communism, we had to leave the country and moved to America where my father served in the Army until retirement.
Growing up an army brat in military bases I never saw others that looked like me and was often mistaken for ethnicities other than Asian. It wasn’t until I went to Vietnam for the first time in my 30’s I saw myself in other faces and felt this is where I came from.
I continue to explore my Vietnamese roots and am currently planning a second trip to Vietnam in 2025 where I will be meeting my mother’s side of our family tree for the first time.”