Diverse teachers in the education field are those who inspired students of color to chase their educational dreams, specifically in the case of being mentor and inspiring students to write about their own life experience. As Kia recalled from her mentor, Ms. Jackson, who she looked up to and who inspired her to pursue writing story: “In the 10th grade, I had an English teacher, Ms. Jackson, who I looked up to, and she was such a prominent figure in my life. She was a strong independent Black woman who taught AP literature. She was so composed and professional, and looking back at her, she really taught as if she was a university professor. Getting praise and acknowledged by her is really what jump started me to pursue writing.”
Through this special teacher, Kia learned to focus on her writing and decided to pursue postsecondary education after graduating from high school. “Ms. Jackson wrote me an awesome letter of recommendation that helped me attend college, and she made me realize my talents and self-worth. It wasn’t until college that I realized the white Eurocentric pillars of my major, English. Thanks to some educational policy courses, and with my own experience, I learned that I needed to add immigrants and voices of Hmong and BIPOC to mainstream school curriculum because there were none in my life growing up,” vocalized Kia.
The Home We Built on 46th St. is Kia’s first book published by the Hmong Educational Resources Publisher. The inspiration for writing this book actually came from a statement made by one of Kia’s favorite authors, Sandra Cisneros. As Kia described: “In an interview, Sandra once said something similar to, what can a 22-year-old who's sheltered, who has never traveled write about? Well, you write what you know. And for anyone, the most obvious topic you write about, and what you know most about, is yourself. So, I began writing pieces for my book during college, when I realized my life experiences were drastically different from my peers.”
Writing a great book also comes with a great title that represents the experiences of the author. The initial title of the book changed a couple times to reflect the authentic experience of Kia and her experiences with her family, culture, community, and the street where she grew up. As Kia gave voice to her book’s title: “The title was changed a couple times. So, with the help of HER Publisher, we came to the agreement of The Home We Built on 46th St. I thought it was so great because of its symbolism. The title might seem simple and insignificant, but I think it reflects the many immigrant stories that take place in the United States. And this book, this story is just another one of those stories. It makes the book seem relatable as immigrant experiences can happen on any street, on the reader's street.”
In the writing process of The Home We Built on 46th St., Kia has been collecting and recording her writing since she began college in 2015. “It wasn’t until my junior year of college that I knew I wanted to create some sort of anthology of my work. So, it’s been a long time coming. My final semester of university is when I had an English mentor guide me through the editing and publishing process. And within that semester I finished the first manuscript of The Home We Built on 46th St.,” announced Kia. A true authentic life experience, The Home We Built on 46th St. is an atypical narrative of a young Hmong immigrant family. The perspectives of the stories change, and, as the book goes on, the format changes along with deep themes of culture clash, social belonging, and critical immigrant experiences. All of the stories inside this book are what built a young Hmong American woman.
When asked what Kia loves most about the writing process and what she learned from writing The Home We Built on 46th St., Kia shared the following experience: “The writing process is always difficult and stressful when you have deadlines and workshops about your work. You express your deepest thoughts on paper, while others critique it and judge it. But the most enjoyable thing for me, is the excitement of writing itself. There were times where I literally could not stop writing because the ideas and stories in my head needed to be put on paper. Looking deeper at the memories in my childhood and writing it out, getting the work done, and having fully flushed out my head was the best feeling. When you do something, you should enjoy it!”
One of Kia’s favorite parts of the story in The Home We Built on 46th St. is the passage about “Laos 1980.” As remarked from the writing of her story: “When I see old photos like that, of when my family was still in Laos and Thailand, I always get a rush of curiosity. Who is who, when was this, what was happening in this photo? And this passage is literally a stream of consciousness writing style, that puts my thoughts on paper. Aside from having fun writing this, the piece itself is great because it comes with a photo. The book lets the reader imagine the characters and settings, but this is the first real concrete image. And it appears halfway into the book, which really makes you conceptualize that these stories you have been reading are as honest as the resilience seen in this picture.”
When it comes to Kia’s writing, her family is the most supportive system in her life. “I am not confident in my writing. I think I still have a lot to learn, and I still have a long way to go for perfecting the craft. With this in mind, my family has always been supportive in my endeavors. Even if I weren’t writing, they would still be here for me. Writing is just one of my many creative outlets, and I don’t think I have actually shared any of my writing to my family. They just trust me and believe in my success, and that support is really good for me,” observed Kia.
If Kia could share one thing about her writing experience with other students or future writers, she would suggest them to write down their thoughts, ideas, feeling, and whatever comes to mind on paper and then review those drafts again later, adding more details and explanations of arguments or topics. “I write down my thoughts when my brain is too overwhelmed. I write down notes when I meet people. I write down little glimmers of life everyday, and that, I think, has pushed me really far. I’ve done so many types of writing, from scholarly to prose. And I think that is what has made me realize what types of writing I prefer. And aside from that, writing itself is such a useful skill. Being able to thoroughly write out a paper and explain your arguments using jargon and precise diction can be the difference of an A or F on a paper. Always put down your thoughts and ideas on paper and review again and again, slowly the story comes to live with full detail,” declared Kia.
When Kia is not writing, she likes to watch TikToks, binge Netflix series, or work. “I work with City Year Milwaukee, in a ninth grade English class, co-teaching courses, and tutoring students. I really enjoy my work because I once was a fledgling high school student myself, needing some help and opportunities. It’s so rewarding to see young people succeed and give back to the community,” vocalized Kia.
In the future, Kia hopes to become an iconic writer. As Kia shared: “To be the next Stephanie Meyer, or the next Virginia Woolf. I am planning to release some novels across genres, contrasting this book release. And in five years, I would like to have an agent and be a full-time writer. But I would also love to have a role in community affairs as an influential Hmong woman. Working in the entertainment business can last a long time. In five years or so, I hope to have a book series on the New York Times best seller list, and let fate run its course after that.”
Kia would like to thank the Hmong Educational Resources Publisher for publishing her book and for providing a space for Hmong students, teachers, and writers to share their stories. Kia also would like to share with her readers that The Home We Built on 46th St. is only the first chapter of her writing career: “It’s solely an introduction to my talents and interests. And I hope that you, readers, will enjoy the book, and relate to some part of it. I would love for you all to read it and see if I did my job and it reached you. Please look forward to my future projects and thanks again,” voiced Kia.
The Hmong Educational Resources (HER) Publisher believes in the power of education and the impact of stories. HER is an independent publisher of books about Hmong people, culture, and life experiences. To get a copy of Kia’s book or read more about The Home We Built on 46th St., please visit www.herpublisher.com. If you would like to know more about Kia Vang and her work, please feel free to connect her by email at kiahvang@gmail.com or follow Kia on Instagram @vangkiah.
As Syra moved to college and studied Secondary Education Program at the University of South Carolina Upstate, it inspired her to explore other potential educational paths in the education world, to write and publish a book for the Hmong community from unheard narratives. “I started to play with the possibility around my undergraduate studies. Somehow, I was unable to envision a specific career in my teenage years, and that ‘somehow’ is what I’m processing now. There are too many narratives that are not shared or unheard. In addition, there are the counternarratives that are also needed to challenge what we have only been given. All of these different stories and experiences inspire me to permeate the thoughts that stem from what already exists. That is why I decided to write this new book from those unheard narratives,” said Syra.
Her new book, And, Sometimes Growing Feels Like Losing, encompasses three short stories: My Secret War, The Caregiver, and To All the Moms, I’m Sorry, published by the Hmong Educational Resources Publisher. “All three stories, although very different, have a common theme. That theme is the feeling of growing and how in that moment it doesn’t always feel like we get things, that we may even question our own selves and lives, or that we feel we aren’t doing as great. The core of the book encompasses a lot of aspects to intersectionalities such as being a Hmong female or male; either single or married; divorced or widowed; being a Hmong mother within different generations and age ranges; being a young Hmong American son or daughter living in two different worlds; and being a Hmong immigrant parent with no formal education and working at a blue-collar job,” remarked Syra.
Writing this book took Syra several years to complete, especially when those stories are based on realistic experiences from many Hmong individuals who had walked and experienced these kinds of events in their daily lives. As Syra vocalized: “It took me a couple years as each story was written at different times with different time spans. The book based on realistic stories and experiences that are put in different perspectives and writing styles – sharing what many people have experienced, living their individual lives that are impacted by social construction and the cycle of socialization.”
In the journey of writing her book, Syra loved the fact that she was able to act on something that she personally struggled with as well – especially those experiences and stories that were lacking in representation in the mainstream literature and education system. “I personally struggled in learning that there is a lack of representation of Hmong narratives in American literature. That process was hard, as I was taught what I was taught in this mainstream education. My schooling and society taught me that the characters that are worth reading about, or the stories that are worth examining and sharing, are all those that did not look like me and my Hmong community, nor did they feel like my moments and the many of my friends and families,” declared Syra.
Those stories from And, Sometimes Growing Feels Like Losing is something that Syra is still learning to unlearn. As Syra voiced about it, “I’m currently challenging myself to be okay with being vulnerable and contributing to this world in this way. So, all the stories give me feelings, and to be able to share those feelings is great.”
When it comes to Syra’s writing, she feels the most supportive and inspirational of her journey are those individual young scholars and her nephews and nieces. “They are the exact individuals who support me whether they know that or not,” said Syra. Good friends are those who are there for you when things get tough, or no matter what. Syra would like to thank her friend Kirsten Lee for always being there for her: “I’d like to give a shout out to my friend, Kirsten, who has always allowed me to use her place as a get-a-way (such as when we had those negative 20 degrees Celsius winter days a few years ago).”
With all the support from friends and families in her writing journey, Syra feels that writing has helped her to express more through books and journals. Most importantly, writing has helped her to unlearn things that the mainstream educational system had missed, the unheard Hmong narratives, characters, and life experiences. “Being a writer is helping me be able to unlearn what I have been taught, be more mindful, and practice feeling discomfort – especially writing helps me be able to express more,” voiced Syra.
When Syra is not writing, she enjoys different types of food. “I love to eat, and I do it very often and sometimes too much,” said Syra.
Thus, Syra doesn’t have a specific plan for the future, but she hopes to provide more writing to shed greater light on diverse curriculum in the classroom and have more diverse books and stories out there for the community. “I usually do not like to intend things for the future as things are not always a guarantee. However, I’d like to be able to provide more writings that can challenge the yearly curriculum, create more diverse resources, as well as frustrations, and yes!, as well as dig deeper in impacting and influencing students and educators,” announced Syra.
If one thing Syra could give to students and readers out there in the community, she would offer ‘self-love’ because loving yourself is one of the important things to stay well. As Syra stated it, “Love yourself and be well.”
The Hmong Educational Resources (HER) Publisher believes in the power of education and the impact of stories. HER is an independent publisher of books about Hmong people, culture, and life experiences. To get a copy of Syra’s book or read more about And, Sometimes Growing Feels Like Losing, please visit www.herpublisher.com. If you would like to know more about Syra Yang and her work, please feel free to connect her at www.syrayang.com/ or Instagram at SyraYang.
Writing not only happens in the classroom, on your desk, or when you scheduled a specific time to sit and write. Writing and new ideas occurs everywhere you go, even at random places where you expect it the least, like taking a walk at the park, or helping a friend and family doing things around the house. As Xe described her experience of jotting down ideas: “I always carry a notebook with me because ideas come in random places and times. Sometimes I would wake up in the middle of the night and start writing my thoughts down. Other times, the idea comes when I am listening to others. Everyone has something special to share, but often times we’re too busy listening to the loud voices of the world and we miss out on the amazing stories that can change our lives. Having a notebook with you and jotting down your ideas and thoughts at the moment is important, so you could come back to it again. It actually inspires you to do things that you normally haven’t done in the past, or trying new things.”
When it comes to her writing, Xe’s family is the most supportive system in her journey. As Xe announced, “My family is very supportive of my writing. They know that I’m very passionate about sharing my ideas with others, and they are always there for me. Recently, my family wanted to give me a beautiful ring as a gift, but I convinced them to take that money and fund my book project instead. A diamond ring cannot be shared with others, but if I take the money and fund my book printing project, I can hopefully bring a little magic to some young minds out there. It’s quite a simple decision.”
As an educator who cares so much about Hmong literature, Xe feels that Hmong teachers could change the Hmong community and educational environment by sharing materials, ideas, curriculum, stories, or classroom projects with each other. The purpose of education is not to keep the door closed, but to open the door for effective learning and sharing with students and colleagues – to be a dreamer, not a dream stopper. “I learned that we could change the education world by sharing our ideas with colleagues; whether through writing a book or a collaboration project. For me, I know that I can reach children beyond my classroom by writing Hmong literature books. Sometimes we get intimidated when our work is being shared with the public, but we have to remember that fear is a dream stopper. We cannot let fear stop us from reaching our dreams,” vocalized Xe.
Changing the education world by inspiring young learners has always been Xe’s passion. Even though there is so much work to be done, Xe feels that looking after your family and self-care are important for teachers. When Xe is not writing, she likes to create Hmong educational materials to help her youngest son at home. She also enjoys hiking, traveling, cooking, gardening, and making YouTube videos to promote Hmong literacy in the social media and technology world.
Technology has changed today’s education and society so much. As Xe is preparing her future plan in the teaching field, she hopes to transition her teaching to the online platform. “As I’m nearing the end of my teaching career, I need to plan my transition from teaching in the classroom to teaching online. I have dedicated many years of my life to educate children in my community, but it’s time to bring what I have learned over the years to promote Hmong literacy through media so that our children and parents will have access to resources that will inspire them to want to learn their language and culture,” said Xe.
Xe would like to ua tsaug the Hmong Educational Resources Publisher for providing a platform for Hmong students and teachers to envision a future led by Hmong voices in the education world. With the support from the HER Publisher team, she would like to remind other dreamers out there in the community that there are resources available for you. Chase your dream and tell your story through writing and publishing. “I would like to remind them to not be afraid to follow their dreams and never put an expiration date on their dreams. Be authentic and run your own race because you have all that you need to get to the finish line,” voiced Xe.
To read more about Kuv Pog and the work Xe does, readers and fans could purchase this book from HER Publisher at www.herpublisher.com, or follow the author at www.Hmongazbooks.com, or contact author by email at Hmongazbooks@gmail.com
This book is a collaboration between the Hmong for Native Speakers classes at Park Center Senior High and Osseo Senior High, located in the Osseo Area School District. The students’ letters in this book were written to us, their teachers, with the hope that by sharing their feelings on paper, we may benefit from seeing the world through their eyes. These letters are anonymous to ensure they are written authentically and straight from the heart. Some proper nouns were changed to protect the identity of the students.
Osseo Area Schools is in the Northwest suburbs of the Twin Cities serving all or parts of Brooklyn Center, Brooklyn Park, Corcoran, Dayton, Maple Grove, Osseo, Plymouth, and Rogers. It is the fifth largest school district with the second largest Hmong population, second to Saint Paul Public Schools. With over 20,000 students and 80 dialects spoken by students, the diverse background of students enriches experiences in the classroom. We currently offer Spanish and Hmong for Native Speakers classes to our students at both Osseo Senior High and Park Center Senior High. Please visit www.district279.org to find out more about our schools and district.
Osseo Senior High is located at the junction of three major cities coming together, in the northwest corner of the Twin Cities Metro area: Maple Grove, Brooklyn Park and Osseo. Like its physical location, Osseo Senior High (OSH) is home to the Osseo Orioles, a junction point where students, staff and families from diverse backgrounds and walks of life, come together and commit to working collectively toward a common mission that “inspires and prepares all students with the confidence, courage, and competence to achieve their dreams, contribute to community; and engage in a lifetime of learning,” (Osseo Area Schools-District 279).
Furthermore, OSH embodies the vibrant features of its mascot’s namesake, the Oriole. From the leadership of Principal, Michael Lehan, to the exuberant demeanor of the newest staff members, OHS has a deep commitment towards the celebration of its colorful learning community and puts great emphasis on cultural competency in its delivery of academic modalities. Indicative to such commitment is OSH’s successful launch of the Native Hmong class. In its first year, Native Hmong touts an at-capacity enrollment number of 35 students, despite being offered as an elective course in the Word Language Department.
As of today, the OSH Hmong for Native Speakers class mirrors the success of its big sister, the Hmong for Native Speakers classes at Park Center Senior High (PCSH) in Brooklyn Park, and it’s showing early signs of high demands for future expansion in the number of course sections offered to students, for the subsequent years to come.
Park Center Senior High is a first ring suburban high school located northwest of Minneapolis led by Principal Heather Miller-Cink. We’re a diverse group of students and staff, including Hmong, Liberian, Hispanic, Vietnamese, and many more. One goal of our comprehensive high school is to provide a culturally responsive and differentiated curriculum of strong rigor in a caring environment with the expectation that all students will succeed. Park Center Senior High has over 400 Hmong students in attendance, over 20% of the student population.
This is our second year offering the Hmong for Native Speakers courses at Park Center. There are now six full classes offered for students. Next year, students will be able to take Hmong for Native Speakers at level I, II, or III. We have worked hard to create this rigorous course and are very proud of the culturally relevant experiences that it offers.
This special book is made possible by the Education Minnesota Foundation Classroom Grant: The Untold Story. The format of this book is organized into three sections: Self-Discovery, Health, and Family. Although many letters do overlap in themes, we selected one section to put each letter in. We hope you enjoy the letters straight from the minds, hearts, and souls of Hmong high school students. We would like to thank our Instructional Coach, Angie Vivatson, and retired teaching colleague, Katherine Hutchinson, for your countless hours editing this book to make it publishable. Last but not least, Mr. Sing Ly, for your continued support to heal the hearts of students who believe in you.
Cha is the author of the new book, Keeb Kwm Haiv Neeg Hmoob, published by the Hmong Educational Resources Publisher. As a Hmong world language teacher in the early 2000s, Cha learned that there was no credible literature on Hmong history in the Hmong language. As Cha described it, “I read and started writing bits and pieces of Hmong history in Hmong and used it as reading material in my class. My writing accumulated over time, and I turned it into a manuscript for publishing.” What truly inspired Cha to write this new book is to provide the resources and objective literature on Hmong history for the younger learners. “My motivation came from a genuine interest to provide an objective literature on Hmong history for my students to read and learn,” said Cha.
In the journey of becoming a published Hmong author, Cha has published two books about Hmong people, culture, and history. His first book, An Introduction to Hmong Culture, was published in 2010, and finally, after a decade of putting together a history book, Keeb Kwm Haiv Neeg Hmoob just published in the summer of 2020. As Cha stated, “I did some freelance writing in the early 1990s and learned quickly that being a journalist was not easy, but publishing my writing had been rewarding and I knew someday I was going to pursue it further. After teaching high school for many years, I finally had the time and had gathered enough information, so I decided to publish my first book An Introduction to Hmong Culture in 2010 and then Keeb Kwm Haiv Neeg Hmoob in 2020.”
Throughout history, Hmong people had migrated to many regions and countries. Regardless of where the Hmong are in the world these days, Cha said the Hmong will always be called “Hmong” (or Hmoob), and that is why Cha decided to name his new book Keeb Kwm Haiv Neeg Hmoob. “Hmong people are a uniquely distinct group of people, which in the Hmong language we call ib haiv neeg. The real name of our people is Hmong, although we may have been known and called by many names, our real name is Hmoob and this book is about the history of the Hmong,” said Cha.
It was 16 years ago that Cha started writing Keeb Kwm Haiv Neeg Hmoob. In 2004, Cha started the project as an outline of a presentation about the Hmong history, later turning it into a booklet for Hmong students, and now a published historical book. As Cha commented, “Keeb Kwm Haiv Neeg Hmoob has been written incrementally over a long period of time. It all started in 2004 when it was just an outline on a PowerPoint presentation on the chronology of Hmong history. It was followed by articles and short passages written on various historical accounts of past events, war heroes, etc. These pieces of writings were put together into a booklet in 2012 and used as literature in my Hmong language class. Altogether, it took more than 16 years of incremental writing to put into this book.”
Cha stated that it is important to write and keep records of the Hmong history, especially as so many stories have been lost and there is so much more to learn about the Hmong journey. “Painting vivid pictures in words of our past, that one had ever imagine existed just a couple of decades ago is probably the most satisfying part of writing this book. I learned that we are a proud people with a long history, but there is so much more about our past that we don’t know about,’ said Cha.
Keeb Kwm Haiv Neeg Hmoob is about the history of Hmong people going back more than 5,000 years, based on myths and legends before recorded history. It traces the history and migration of our ancestors through time into ancient China where written records were being kept, archeological artifacts substantiate historical accounts, and tales were kept through oral traditions. It continues through the middle ages and into the modern diaspora of the Hmong people. This book details the way life, belief, religion, traditions, cultural practices, war, leadership, adaptations, advancements, and challenges Hmong people have been through the ages. There were triumphant moments in history, as well as tragedies, that illustrate the adversities that Hmong people faced throughout our past and continue to face in the present.
When asked what is Cha’s favorite part of Keeb Kwm Haiv Neeg Hmoob, he indicated “My favorite part is the battle of Huang Piao, or ntsuj rog Hav Faj Plob. It illustrates strong leadership and a united people that enabled our forefathers to accomplish an extraordinary feat, one that we all can learn from,” said Cha.
Writing can be a lonely journey, but every step of the way, Cha’s family and spouse were his main supporters and motivation in the process. “My family has been very supportive of my writing. My wife, Mai Xee Vue, has been understanding as she has allotted me the time, given me the space, and provided the encouragement that I needed to do my writing. My children are my biggest fans and they are my main motivation. Generations of students have given me positive feedback on my writings,” said Cha.
As a Hmong author, Cha strongly encourages Hmong students and individuals to write and tell their stories. Cha believes that writing down your thoughts, feelings, and ideas help better develop your skills in communicating. “Being a writer has helped me become a better communicator, both verbally and in written form. I have broadened my vocabulary and I have been able to express myself more concisely. More importantly, writing challenges me to do better as time goes by,” said Cha.
Besides working full-time as a teacher in Sacramento, Cha enjoys spending quality time together with family, extended families, and giving back to the Hmong community. “I enjoy being with my extended family from tending to my aging parents to taking road trips with my wife and kids. It is not unusual for me to be helping with weddings (ua mej koob), funerals (ua kav xwm, hais txiv xaiv, ua kis), cultural events, community events, etc.,” said Cha.
As Cha continues to give back to the education and Hmong communities, he hopes to publish more Hmong resources written in the native Hmong language. “There are several writing projects that I have been working on, and they are all in Hmong. I am putting together a Hmong language and grammar book. It should be out in 2021. I have also written extensively on topics such as Hmong weddings and funerals that I might publish in the future,” said Cha.
The Hmong Educational Resources (HER) Publisher believes in the power of education and the impact of stories. HER provides services for Hmong students, writers, educators, researchers, and graphic artists. Cha would like to thank HER Publisher for publishing Keeb Kwm Haiv Neeg Hmoob, and for all the readers and supporters for purchasing his books over the years. “I appreciate the support that everybody has given me. Because your feedback has been positive, constructive feedback goes a long way to help me improve and continue to do better. Ua tsaug for all the support over the years,” said Cha. Fans and readers can follow Ya Po Cha in social media, facebook page at www.facebook.com/yapocha.
Like many other Hmong families and parents, Pang Yang’s parents also wanted her to become a medical doctor or a lawyer. As Pang grew older and became a tutor for her own siblings and served as a student aid in English as Second Language class, teaching became a possible career for her future. “Growing up, I have always loved teaching my younger siblings in our basement. It had a chalkboard for us to pretend play. In my junior year of high school, I was a student aid for an ESL teacher, Mr. Brown, and through that experience, I confirmed becoming a teacher. I broke the news to my mom in my senior year that I was not going to be the doctor or lawyer my parents wanted me to be. My reasons were that I was and still am today, scared to death of dealing with blood, and I was not good at making arguments. I remembered my mom’s response was, ‘That is a great choice because it is not physical labor, and it is light and easy.’ She was grateful for my career choice,” said Pang.
As a child growing up, Pang knew that someday she would love to share her stories and experiences to the world through publishing her books – stories about her youth as a Hmong refugee, the struggle that she and her family had gone through in America and the education system. “I’ve always had a story to tell. Stories about my childhood, obstacles in life, race, and so much more,” said Pang.
Two Hmong educators in different paths of life but similar passion in the education world: Pang, a Hmong for Native Speakers teacher at Park Center Senior High, finally met Dr. Brian V. Xiong, President and CEO of the Hmong Educational Resources Publisher in 2017 about the idea of publishing her work and sharing her students’ stories to the world. “When I met Dr. Xiong in the summer of 2017, I realized the time was here and now. When Dr. Xiong had paved the way to publish, why not take the opportunity to grow my voice in ways that I had never been able to,” said Pang.
As a Hmong teacher and educator – Pang loves reading and writing. She wanted her students to take every opportunity in the education world and challenge themselves to become the best version of who they are, especially those silent voices and stories that have been waiting to be told. She saw a vision that her talented Hmong students could become some of the youngest Hmong student authors in the Hmong community. Pang worked hard with her students, to turn their inner voices into books that would become a knowledge and education symbol for future students in her class. “I wanted writing to be a way for students to breathe, share their inner voices that have been silenced over the years, and to accomplish something that only a few Hmong students would have achieved - that is to become published authors in their teenage years. Regardless, my students have to write in my class; so why not mentor and guide these talented students to make their writing and stories purposeful instead of meaningless, and to contribute in creating culturally relevant texts for future students to explore and become curious,” asked Pang.
A dream came true. Pang’s students became some of the youngest Hmong student authors in the Hmong Minnesota community. After days, weeks, and months of working with students on their writing, they finally published three books with the support from the HER Publisher and the Education Minnesota Foundation Classroom Grant: The Untold Story. As Pang described it, “The works of each book took a few days to scaffold and prep students to write. I gave students one to two weeks to write each piece, with exception to the Cultural Dish which took longer because students had to cook their favorite dish. However, each book was written in different trimesters, as I did not want to overwhelm students. After first drafts, if students’ writing were chosen (sometimes by peers, other times by our resident artist, or me), their writing would be edited by either myself or our literacy coach, with exception to the Dear My Teacher book. Once edits are made, we took on several more edits. The process literally took anywhere from three to five months to complete before we are able to submit manuscripts to Dr. Xiong at the Hmong Education Resources Publisher.”
Giving students the opportunity to claim their own authorship of their own chapter and building their leadership with their peers, as well as learning how the publishing process works – Pang provided the students a platform where students would choose their own title for their chapter stories and a final book title for all collected stories. “Each book title got its own name in a different way. For The Cultural Dish, Joseph Xiong, who took Hmong and Computer Art class convinced his classmates that a short title about their experiences of ‘culture’ and ‘dish’ would be a perfect fit for their first book. His peers supported the idea. The second book, From Mountains to 10,000 Lakes, was chosen by students in a survey. And the last book, Dear My Teacher, came about when Dr. Xiong and I brainstormed the title together after students compiled their own story titles together,” said Pang.
These books are unique in their own way in how the students came to unfold their journey of publishing the three titles. As Pang described it, “Each book has a special collaboration with another class and/or a resident artist. The Dear My Teacher is a collection of authentic Hmong high school student writings about what they wanted to share with their teachers, Mr. Mike Vang (a Hmong language teacher at Osseo Senior High) and me - so that we, as their Hmong teachers, could better support them in class to be successful. Students were very honest and open to share about family life, challenges, happiness, mental health, and so much more. The Cultural Dish brings students’ food stories from home and from the community, as well as inspiration from Chef Yia Vang. After several visits inspired students about Chef Vang’s journey and his cooking Kim Chi Fried Rice, our Hmong students dug deep into their Hmong roots to search for that first favorite Hmong dish of theirs. As Chef Vang says, ‘Behind every dish, there is a story to tell.’ The Cultural Dish also contains Spanish for Native Speakers’ food poems to showcase the diverse authentic foods across cultures. The Hmong Youth Poetry Collection is the result of Tou Saiko’s Hip Hop residency with students in exploring one’s identity in how to learn and write poetry of their own. All these books are written in English, Hmong, and one with Spanish to support the diverse ethnic food.”
Helping students to become better writers is one of the most magical things that a teacher could do for students in the education world. The writing process takes time and patience in its own pace; but most importantly, writing provides a space where students can speak their ideas, their thoughts, and their minds and emotions. “What I loved most about the writing process is that it’s magical in so many ways. I can take one idea into a totally different place by the time the process is over. I learned that there’s so much in the minds and hearts of students. Students need a place to speak their minds, so why not write? Writing for some students is so therapeutic and helps them heal their inner souls,” said Pang.
The most beautiful thing in the writing process is for students to own their voices and tell their stories the way they are. “Each story is so unique in itself, with twists that can be unexpected. What I love is that students tell it as it is and do not sugar coat their stories,” said Pang.
When asked who the most supportive persons in the writing activities with her students were, Pang described her amazing editors, mentors, colleagues, and family. “I would not be able to publish the books without my editors, mentors, and the literacy coach who has helped shape the stories and poems into the final product. My family has also been so patient, knowing the amount of time it takes me away from being with them while I’m helping to change a new generation of students. They know how important this journey is for me,” remarked Pang.
Being a Hmong teacher and writer has helped Pang express ideas like never before, especially when it comes to providing a safe space for students to express and explore their unique skill and talent in writing. “It has helped me imagine the unimaginable to become reality. It has helped my students break their silence and have a voice. It has helped their confidence when speaking in public during read aloud,” said Pang.
When Pang is not writing, she loves to give back to the community, volunteer at community and educational events and gatherings, work on grading and lesson planning, or hang out with her children. “Time is short when there is so much that I want to accomplish, so finding that balance is the key,” emphasized Pang.
When asked about her future plans, Pang stated “I plan to release two children’s books to promote more Hmong literacy. I also have grants to publish three more student writing collection books for the 2020-2021 upcoming school year. I’m extremely excited and look forward to this new chapter.”
If Pang could give any advice to young readers, students, and friends – she said, “DREAM BIG.” Everything is possible when you put your heart to it. Whether through class activities or assignments, “write to tell your story. If you don’t, someone will tell your story. And don’t forget to read. Read until you sleep. Reading gives you so much more new perspectives and appreciation for life,” said Pang.
The Hmong Educational Resources (HER) Publisher believes in the power of education and the impact of stories. HER provides services for Hmong students, writers, educators, researchers, and graphic artists. Pang would like to thank the HER Publisher team for publishing these book resources for the community. Pang loves to connect with other Hmong educators, teachers, and mentors/mentees. If anyone would like to connect with Pang, she is on social media (Facebook) at “Pa Yang.”
DEAR MY TACHER:
The birth of the book, DEAR MY TEACHER, was a result of the experiences I had as an introverted Hmong student growing up in an American K-12 education system in Minnesota. I was on a search all my life to find my voice in order to share my life experiences with the people around me. Our Hmong-American students are a reflection of who I was, and to have their stories be told is to open the world of the unknown. This book demonstrates how to open a can of worms, face the fears, and be able to move on with grace and insight.
It took almost half of my life to find who I am, for the experiences I had to endure shaped who I am today as a teacher, a mother, a wife, a daughter, and a Hmong daughter-in-law. I no longer have to be 50% American and 50% Hmong because I have finally learned to balance my life living as a Hmong-American and keep my own identity alive.
During my high school years, my worst fear was to have my teachers judging me because 99% of my teachers didn’t look like me. What would they think of me if I told them about parts of my life that I was ashamed of? How would they react? Would they be able to understand what I was going through because they are not from my ethnic background? Would they tell my story to other students? Could I trust them? I had a million questions and no answers.
As an adult in my early thirties, I reflected upon my experiences in school, especially the silence in my undergraduate program where I was left out of group discussions and at times felt invisible because I was an introvert and didn’t speak up. My college classmates, 98% of whom were White, would sometimes look back and forth at each other and have discussions and not even one would look at me or ask me, “What do you think?” This not only happened once, but countless times. It hurts to reflect on the past and it hurts to not be seen. That is when I realized the power of speaking from within: to ask for understanding, to ask for help, or to ask for anything. The worst thing someone could say is “NO.” I finally found my voice after all these years. I often interject in conversations and ask questions for clarification or curiosity. I don’t want to be that invisible student all over again and miss the opportunity for my voice to be heard.
I have learned to speak my truth, so that I don’t keep my experiences inside of me buried in my baggage. My baggage has been so full of racial encounters, microaggressions in the workplace, and so much more that have been buried for so long, but I didn’t have a single safe place to unpack it until Courageous Conversation trainings by Glen Singleton became a part of my district’s professional development. By participating in the sessions and practicing these skills, I learned to speak my truth. I learned to talk about one of the hardest things in life that we barely talk about: RACE. As a Hmong daughter, my family never had conversations about race. We just didn’t talk about it; many Hmong families still don’t talk about it today. To accept non-closure in the hardest conversations and to feel discomfort was hard, but it was part of the journey to finally heal from the inside and to find liberation.
What you should know is that our Hmong-American students, including those who were born in Thailand or Laos and immigrated to the United States (generation 1.5), as well as students who were born in the U.S. to immigrant and/or refugee parents (generation 2.0) and students whose grandparents came to the U.S. in the 1970s and 80s (generation 3.0), the generation 1.5 students are quite different than students from generation 3.0 in Hmong language proficiency. These differences in generations make our class unique and provides opportunities for everyone to learn from one another.
Students wouldn’t be comfortable sharing personal information (what is under the iceberg), but Mike and I spent many days at the beginning of the school year gaining students’ trust through community building activities, being vulnerable about our own life experiences, leading lessons around race, and being real. We have to be open-minded and listen to what our Hmong-American students have to say because sometimes they just want to be heard. You should also note that some letters are written in Hmong because students have the ability to express their feelings in their native tongue.
I discovered the letter idea in a blog two summers ago. I wrote my own authentic letter to my English high school teacher pretending I was in high school all over again. As I read this letter aloud in my classes, students could hear the changes in my voice. It took power to share this letter. Even though I experienced these events 20 plus years ago, it still feels like yesterday.
Here is my example letter:
June 1, 1994
Dear Teacher,
This has been a bittersweet journey for 12 years in the Saint Paul Public School system. I’m so grateful to share this with you, someone who would listen and wanted to see me for who I really am. This has allowed me to share the private world that I was living in.
I have been that quiet Hmong student in your class with perfect attendance, who was always respectful and did her homework for the last 12 years from first grade until now. I was that introverted kid who never questioned you, but instead, I was burning inside because I was desperate to learn, so that I could have a chance at the American dream. There is so much you don’t know about me that I wish you knew. Since you asked, I hope you will not judge me for what I’m about to share. Not a single teacher has wanted to know more about the girl who was the imperfect A student until now. Three things I wished you knew about me were:
First and foremost, my father just divorced my mother on paper last year so that he could marry another young wife from Laos, two years younger than me. I believe he was one of the very first to commit this action in our community. I was sickened and so devastated; only my friends could heal my soul. I cried endlessly with my mom each night knowing that we may never be together again as one family. Each night I wept in bed knowing that my life was over, and my family was going to be torn apart because of my father’s action. What was wrong with him? I had no answers, and I wished he wasn’t my father. I asked myself why my father would do what he did, for I felt he no longer loved my siblings or me because he didn’t love our mother.
Secondly, I wish you knew that over and over, I had people who didn’t believe in me when I told them I had big dreams. My counselor told me to go to a community college when I told her I was applying to a private university. She said I wasn’t ready for the private school challenges, and that I was better off at a community college. I was upset that she didn’t support me, but didn’t have words to express my frustration to my parents or anyone else. I watched some of teachers favor the ‘A’ students (teacher’s pets), while I struggled with adult responsibilities: working two part-time jobs, being a mother figure to my four younger siblings after school because my mom worked second-shift with two jobs at $4 an hour, cleaning and cooking nightly at home, and helping my father run his own Chinese restaurant by working another 18 hours on weekends. Despite all this, I still earned a place on the “B” honor roll. I probably juggled more tasks than an average teen. While my White peers were playing sports, going to school dances, and watching football games, I was becoming an adult and gaining life-long skills.
Lastly, I wish I had teachers who looked like me, those who knew what it felt like to be hungry when there wasn’t enough food to eat at the end of the month, and how it felt to live in two cultures while trying to meet the high expectations at home and at the same time discovering what it means to be American. I wish I had teachers who knew how hard it was to be a student of color in the educational system, so that they could have showed me the easier road ahead. I hungered for life skills from my teachers, but no one bothered to share any life experiences to make the road ahead of me easier.
By reading this letter, you give me hope. I have hope that you will be the change in my future. I hope that you will listen with an open heart and mind and give me a hug at times when I want to cry in class. Maybe you could just read my daily journal? Every single word of heartache is here, but all that you do is put a check mark and turn the pages.
Sincerely,
The Introvert
MY LOVE, MY LIFE
Park Center Senior High is a first ring suburban high school located northwest of Minneapolis, Minnesota, led by Principal Heather Miller-Cink. With COVID this year, half of our Heritage Hmong Language students have transitioned to our online virtual program, Distance Learning Academy, led by Principal Lisa Hartman. We are a diverse group of students and staff, including Hmong, Liberian, Hispanic, Vietnamese, and many more. One goal of our comprehensive program is to provide a culturally responsive and differentiated curriculum of strong rigor in a caring environment with the expectation all students will succeed.
We first met Xibfwb Yaj Ceeb Vaj online when he offered to teach a Hmong cultural class for the community. Through taking the class, we were amazed at his critical thinking and analysis of the Hmong culture and language. Xibfwb Yaj Ceeb is a child prodigy, he became a shaman at a very young age and was able to quickly pick up the language and culture. Furthermore, Xibfwb Yaj Ceeb’s love and passion for Hmong language and culture has brought him to become a master practitioner in the community. We were so fortunate to have him be a resident artist this year.
This very special book is made possible by an Education Minnesota Foundation classroom grant, The Untold Narrative 2, and Minnesota Legacy Cultural Grant, Finding Our Roots. This is our fourth published student book. See more of our books at the Hmong Educational Resources: www.herpublish.com. Editing credit goes to Ms. Yia Vue for your countless hours making sure our book is polished. Thank you, Nastasha Nina Vang, for allowing us to use her Hmong wedding doodle, and all the parents who took part of Minnesota Zej Zog’s Valentine’s couple paint night, creating a Hmong couple’s portrait with Artist Yer Syhaphom. Last but not least, thank you to all the parents who told their stories as it is for your youth to capture the beauty of your story before it is too late.
The format of the book is organized with a basic Hmong Dawb pre-wedding planning chapter and love stories of the parents of my students. Enjoy reading all these authentic stories.
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Dr. Xiong holds a bachelor’s degree in Justice Administration and Sociology from Southwest Minnesota State University, a master’s degree in Multicultural and Ethnic Studies from Minnesota State University-Mankato, and a doctorate in Counselor Education and Supervision accredited by the Council for Accreditation of Counseling and Related Educational Programs (CACREP) from MSU-Mankato.
Dr. Xiong is a former Page Scholar, Wallin Scholar, Cornwell Scholar, Diversity & Equity Fellow, Chief Diversity Officer & Affirmative Action Director, and an Advisory Chief Diversity Officer for the National Conference on Race and Ethnicity. He is an active Executive Board of numerous community services and nonprofit organizations.
Dr. Xiong is the author of:
* A Clan of Our Own: Coming Out Experiences of Gay Hmong Men,
* A New Journey: Hmong College Student Experiences,
* Puag Thaum Ub: Hmoob Xeem,
* Martha L. Zimmerman Paj Ntaub Collection,
* Sunrise Over Wat Thamkrabok,
* Hmong Teacher Experiences: Voices from the Field.
Like many other Hmong children in a traditional Hmong family, we often were told by our parents and grandparents that the Hmong history is like a broken mirror because it is not exactly known where our ancestors came from, and it is near impossible to go back in time to put all the shattered pieces together to figure out the roots of Hmong ancestry. Stories passed down from generation to generation through word of mouth, that our people had lived in China for thousands of years where the Chinese would call us “Miao,” or classified as “Miao” group, which includes Hmong, Kho Xiong, Hmu, and A Hmao. During those days, Hmong usually lived peacefully and independently in the mountains where families engaged in farming, gathering, and hunting. During this time, the majority of Hmong were animists and believed in shamanism, a belief that all living things have souls and spirits, and all things in this world are interconnected. Therefore, Hmong preferred to avoid war with anyone and worked toward living in peace within their family and village. Given that Hmong were a minority group in China, the Chinese sought to control the Hmong land and wanted the Hmong people to assimilate and live under Chinese rule. However, Hmong people stood their ground and fought against this oppression. Hmong and expanding Chinese were at war with one another for more than 3,000 years until the Chinese defeated the last Hmong uprising in 1870. After losing the war, some of the Hmong then escaped southward to Southeast Asia and joined the earlier settlements in the remote highlands of Vietnam, Laos, and Thailand.
Continuing our traditional way of life as a hunting and farming society, our ancestors in Laos lived in autonomous villages scattered through remote mountains, valleys, and ridges with their clan family (kwv tij), and practiced slash-and-burn agriculture, planting rice, corn, and vegetables, and raising livestock: chickens, pigs, cows, buffalos, horses, goats, and sheep. Except for Pa Chay’s Madman’s War in 1918-1921, Hmong people did not encounter any major war after they escaped from China, until the Vietnam War, known as the “Secret War” to the Hmong, between 1963-1975. In support of non-communists and the Laotian Army’s efforts to keep the country out of the hands of the Pathet Lao, the United States supplied the Royalists with arms and personnel. It was during this time that Hmong were recruited by the Central Intelligence Agency (CIA) to gather information about the North Vietnamese movements in the country. Under the leadership of Hmong officer, Major General Vang Pao, Hmong men, women, and young boys were used in rescuing downed American pilots, cutting off supplies to the communists on the Ho Chi Minh Trail, flying combat missions, and fighting the ground war.
When the United States withdrew from the Vietnam War in May 1975, the communists gained complete control of Laos. It was during this month that Major General Vang Pao was evacuated by air to Thailand while thousands of Hmong were left behind. Hmong people became the target of violent reprisals from the new government. Fearing for their lives and to save their families, tens of thousands of Hmong fled across the Mekong River to seek refuge in Thailand in Ban Vinai and other refugee camps. It was estimated that around 30,000 to 40,000 Hmong died during the Vietnam War. After waiting in Thai refugee camps, the Hmong people received refugee status from the United Nations and were allowed to relocate to other countries, especially the United States, France, Australia, Canada, New Zealand, and West Germany.
I was born in Ban Vinai Refugee Camp in Thailand in 1983. My parents and three older sisters settled in the camp eight years before I was born. Sometime in the early 1980’s, many Hmong families who resettled in the United Stated sent a voice cassette tape to the camp and informed the remaining families about nyav (monsters) in America – that White people were monsters and ate people. These rumors scared many Hmong parents and elders. My father was the oldest son and the caretaker of his siblings after my grandfather passed away in Laos during the war. He and his three younger brothers did not like what they heard from the cassette tapes about nyav and additional information about the disfunction of new Hmong American families and family values in America. The brothers decided that it would be best to escape Ban Vinai Camp to Wat Thamkrabok, a Buddhist temple located in the Phra Phutthabat District of Saraburi Province. The uncles’ families and my father’s family, along with several other Hmong families, were the first group to settle in Wat Thambrabok. When arrived, we lived among numbers of people with drug addiction who were seeking treatment and/or rehab in the Wat.
As a child growing up in Wat Thamkrabok, I remembered running around on the second floor of the white cement building, tsev dawb. I remembered playing cops and robbers with other Hmong kids around my age, and we chased each other up and down the stairs from floor to floor. Sometime my friends and I snuck outside the building and played marble games on the dirt floor at the corner of the tsev dawb. My family shared a small unit with another Hmong family in the building. The rest of the residents shared the same bathroom, only divided by gender for showering. As time passed by, more Hmong families slowly escaped from Ban Vinai and other places into Wat Thamkrabok, raising the population to 30,000. Half of us resettled in the United States between 2004 and 2006, while the rest scattered into the Thai landscape.
As refugee children, those who were old enough to help their parents, would either work at a small vegetable garden close by the tsev dawb with their parents (mostly girls and mothers), or help their parents clean and sweep around the temple. The men usually tried to find work outside of the Wat to bring additional income to help their family. Older boys and young men, if their parents had the money, got to attend Thai schools during the weekday. On the weekend, we were always excited and lined up in the hallway to watch Thai Boran Lakorn dramas in a crowded room where someone had a small television.
These memories from Wat Thamkrabok are a record of trials, experiences, and places that many of our Hmong children, parents, and beloved family members have lived through. Sometimes we would never know the true value of a moment until it becomes a memory of our life. Life brings joy, smiles, tears, and memories; thus, the tears dry and the smiles fade, but the joys of our past memories remain forever in our heart. As you page through this book, I hope these remarkable photos will remind you of the memories we have shared and made along our journey with the people we love, this place we have been, and the joy and tears we have not unforgotten – this was once sunrise over Wat Thamkrabok.
MARTHA L. ZIMMERMAN PAJ NTAUB COLLECTION:
When my mother, Porche Yang, died in 2011, I didn’t get the chance to record her paj ntaub story. I am glad that I got the opportunity to meet with Martha and put together this paj ntaub book from her collection for the Hmong community, and to remember my beloved mother and many amazing Hmong women who sew these pieces for the Hmong people and Hmong history.
I first became aware of Martha and her passionate collection of Hmoob Paj Ntaub tapestries and artifacts in 2016 and cannot begin to express my appreciation and gratefulness for her generosity in donating her entire collection to the Hmong Archives. Without her graciousness, this book would not have been possible. Her donation has enabled us to sustain the work and mission of Hmong Archives to research, collect, preserve, interpret, and disseminate materials in all formats about or by Hmong. All royalties and proceeds of this title will go to the Hmong Archives ensuring that Martha’s donation continues giving back to the Hmong community.
While Martha herself was not born into the Hmong community, she has been embraced by the many Hmong women she’s helped in selling their paj ntaub throughout the Midwest. Her thorough documentation of every artist, year, and type of paj ntaub sold ensured that the Hmong artists who created these beautiful works of art, were correctly attributed and received appropriate financial compensation for the works they sold. As deeply indebted to Martha as this book is, I would be remiss to not mention all of the work and artistry of the women who created these works of art themselves.
These women often received little to no level of formal education and instead supported their families and their dreams through their talent of putting needle to thread. They lived their lives making art and in turn, wove their narrative and the Hmong’s story into the larger fabric of America. Seeing their work was especially personal for me because they could’ve been my aunties, my sisters, or my mother. Like my mother, these women balanced their responsibilities as a mother and homemaker, and despite the demands of caring for a family in a new country, still somehow caught the last rays of sunshine to complete their paj ntaub. I still remember the sight of my own mother sitting on her green, bamboo, woven stool, sitting on the balcony of our two-bedroom apartment and repeating the same motions over and over again. Back then I found it tedious, but after her passing, the image of her sewing paj ntaub remains one of my most vivid memories. I hope that when members of the Hmong community page through the amazing works of art in this book, this familiarity resonates through them as well.
These intimate moments we share with paj ntaub itself remain one of the driving forces in the publication of this title. I wanted to share, honor, and immortalize the many Hmong women whose works appear in this book. Oftentimes, they don’t receive enough credit where credit is due, and we hope this book presents these Hmong artists in a new light.
We are often familiar with seeing paj ntaub created and sold to individuals outside of the Hmong community. With the support of the Minnesota Humanities Center’s Legacy Cultural Heritage and Identity Micro-Grants, the Hmong Archives and HER Publisher hope this book was created to be accessible enough to the Hmong people to bring our art and craft back into the community. Although there is such an abundance of works to be displayed at the Hmong Archives, we believe that the best way to experience these pieces is to see them live in person.
As of September 30, 2020, Hmong Archives had accessioned some 221,000 items by and about Hmong, in 13 categories, from over 1200 donors worldwide. Paj ntaub, or flower cloth, can refer to a female name, a Christian script, a music or fiction title, an event, or a periodical, so it is difficult to determine how many are paj ntaub textiles or contain information about this central element of Hmong culture. A full list of paj ntaub textiles and additional objects among the Hmong Archives’ complete collection can be found at the Hmong Archives website. To find more information on the operating hours of the Hmong Archives and to schedule a meeting, you can visit https://hmongarchives.org/
Ultimately, regardless of the context our readers bring into this book, we are proud that it was created by primarily Hmong hands first and foremost, for a primarily Hmong audience. Paj ntaub can be enjoyed by all, but there is extra cultural significance in seeing something from your history elevated with the care and respect our team committed.
A NEW JOURNEY: HMONG COLLEGE STUDENT EXPERIENCES:
I packed my doctoral textbooks and ran to class right after I visited my father at the hospital. As I got to class and sat down on my chair, I noticed that I was the only minority doctoral student in the classroom and the only Hmong student in my cohort. I remembered seeing more Hmong and diverse students in undergraduate studies, but as you go higher, you see few minority students, and you become one of the few doctoral students of color in graduate programs, or may be the only Hmong student in your program.
To start the class, my professor asked us, a total of seven doctoral students, to go around the room and share a bit about our summer and if there was something fun that we’d done over the break. As my White classmates took turns to tell their stories about their families’ vacations and trips that they took out-of-state and overseas - how I wished my summer break could have been as fun as theirs, if my Hmong family had the money to travel. Others shared stories about buying new houses, new cars, and adopting new pets into their families, and how they baptized their new dogs - how I wished my Hmong parents would have their own home so we could easily do ua neeb and other ritual ceremonies in our own house instead of borrowing extended Xiong family houses for such ceremonies. My parents lived in a small unit apartment in north Minneapolis, and it was hard to ua neeb with the loud noise of the gong and the smoke of the burning spirit money that would trigger the whole unit fire alarm system. When it was my turn to share my summer break story, the only thing I’d done over the summer was traveling back and forth from college and home to the hospital to take care of my dying parents. As a Hmong student and being the oldest son, it was my responsibility to look after my parents in their old age. There is no such thing as a nursing home in my culture.
As I reflected back to my own academic journey, and the many struggles and self-sacrifice that I’d gone through, it wasn’t an easy journey after all, especially being a first-generation Hmong college student in this higher education world. As the first person in my family to attend college, a lot of things were new to me, including financial aid, student loans, college orientation, college major and elected courses, and even the campus food. I came from a refugee and low-income family, and we didn’t get to do many things like many of my American peers did with their families back home, such as eating out at the restaurant. Dining out with my college friends was new to me. I remembered that one time when I ordered food at Perkins Restaurant, and the waitress asked me how I would like my eggs done? I looked at my college friends and didn’t know what to say. They didn’t know that I didn’t know how to order food either, and who knew that there so many ways of cooking eggs: hard scrambled, soft boiled, sunny-side-up, over-easy, over-medium, or over-hard? Back home with my Hmong family, we only have two styles of cooked eggs, either boiled eggs or fried eggs. I was so embarrassed while the waitress was waiting for my response. The next remarkable thing I did to cover this embarrassment moment was telling the waitress, “I want my plate to be exactly likes the picture in the menu.”
The last 17 years of my life in the education world have been non-stop schooling, from bachelor to master and doctor degrees. After both of my parents passed away while I was a full-time graduate student, balancing between two-worlds, school and family – I often asked myself, “Had I done enough for my beloved parents before they left this world?” The regret of chasing my education dream and being away from home, and not knowing whether I’d done enough for my parents, has always haunted me.
These are my college experiences of chasing educational degrees. Thus, earning a college degree can be challenging, but true educators are those who never give up and live a life for themselves for what they believe could be achievable through education. In this collection, I hope that you will enjoy reading these 24 brave Hmong college student writers, for sharing their stories of being Hmong students in higher education, their refreshing mix of voices that reflect the many joys, challenges, struggles and sacrifices in this NEW JOURNEY in the education world.
UA TSAUG KUV NIAM
To my beloved mother, Porche Yang.
You left this world too soon. I miss you so much, and I hope you are looking down on me and my siblings, and from time to time, please advise me in my dreams. And to all the Hmong mothers, for loving, caring and raising us. Ua tsaug niam, uas nej hlub peb.
A CLAN OF OUR OWN: COMING OUT EXPERIENCES OF GAY HMONG MEN
To my gay Hmong brothers and sisters; knowing that this is your once in a lifetime journey, spend it wisely with the people you love and don’t forget to appreciate the things of who you are.
As a Hmong counselor, educator, and researcher, I’ve come to learn that life is to appreciate the moment and decide what we can do with those years that are given to us. Being queer Hmong isn’t a choice, instead a beautiful life journey of several identities within yourself.
Professor Yang is the author of “Sayaboury: Land of a Million Elephants,” “Nuj Yob: The Hmong Jungle Book,” “The Making of Hmong America: Forty Years after the Secret War,” “根连万里情依依” loosely translated as "Root Connection from Ten Thousand Miles,” “The Hmong and Their Odyssey,” and “Laos and Its Expatriates in the United States.”
The thought of writing a book about Sayaboury came to me during my first visit to Sayaboury in July 2002. I realized then that I had been away from Sayaboury for almost three decades and had become a stranger to the town and people of Sayaboury. I found only a few townsfolks who still remembered me and called me by name. A few of my former teachers and classmates still lived in Sayaboury Town, informing me that many of our friends and teachers had passed away. Many, like myself, left Sayaboury Town to either become refugees abroad or start a new life elsewhere. The residents, who are younger than 35, did not know me, and I did not recognize them. It felt like not only did I leave my town, but my town had also left me. Moreover, the language accent from the people in the market places in Sayaboury Town indicated that most of them did not have the traditional Sayaboury accent, which meant that they moved to town from elsewhere after 1975, at the end of the Secret War, when people were able to move in and out. Since 2002, I have made many more visits to Sayaboury and traveled to many districts in the province.
I have learned and observed that the town and province have caught up with many changes. Firstly, the population has doubled since 1975 with the introduction of many foreigners, specifically Chinese, who have come to town and now have their own commercial district. Secondly, there are many new developments including roads, dams and other infrastructure. Thirdly, social and moral values have also changed; the Lao traditional strictness on sexual behavior and moral conduct has been altered by many internal and external influences; it appears that a sexual revolution is currently in process. Lastly, learning and paying attention to the history and folk legends of Sayaboury is no longer a priority.
These impending developments made me realize how important it is to document the memories of Sayaboury and its local folktales, so the locals can cherish and preserve them for the next generation. It is also important to educate tourists and visitors about Sayaboury and its people, so they can enjoy it as I did when I was in my youth. I want to be part of the development of Sayaboury Province, and the only thing that I can do is to write what I know about the land and the people so others can enjoy them and build upon them.
The year 2018 marks my 43 years of living outside of Sayaboury and Laos. Time does contribute to the fading of my memories, so I need to record what I know as soon as I can. I also believe that writing something now is better than having nothing for the next generation. Moreover, I have always wanted to contribute my expertise and skills to the development of Laos, especially Sayaboury, so writing the story of Elephant Mountain along with many other aspects of Sayaboury Province might be the best thing I can do for the people of Laos.
Since 2002, I have compiled what I could recall about Sayaboury, the history, land and its people. Additionally, my many more visits to Sayaboury and continuing research led to the completion of this very simple book, which is based on memories from my youth, my research, and observations. Thus, it is not entirely a scholarly work. I hope it will provide readers a better understanding of the history, the land, and the people of Sayaboury — the Land of a Million Elephants….
As a former Hmong student growing up in a public education system, Dr. Thao felt she was never able to connect to any characters in mainstream children’s books – as there was no Hmong voice in children’s literature. She also did not see herself reflected in her classroom teachers. “As I continue to share my story, I realize that I can empower my students to see themselves in stories and books and be proud of their identity,” said Dr. Thao.
Dr. Thao hopes that her two new books would serve as resources for Hmong students and keep the rich culture, traditions, and history of the Hmong people alive. As she sheds light on her experience as a new Hmong author, she shares: “I hope that my story will pave that path for my students, siblings, nieces and nephews, and future children to know that they, too, have a voice and that one day they will share their stories with the world.”
As a child growing up, there were many amazing goals that Dr. Thao set for herself, but her highest goal was to become a teacher just like her father. “As long as I can remember, I have always wanted to be a teacher just like my dad. As soon as I could start talking and walking, I was playing ‘school’ with my younger siblings and cousins,” said Dr. Thao.
Beside her father being a role-model in teaching, Dr. Thao highly values her teachers and mentors who had shaped her to become an educator, with the hopes that she could do the same for her students and future students. As Dr. Thao described, “My teachers were my heroes and have shaped me into the student, educator, and person that I am today. I hope to do the same for my students. I truly believe that a teacher can shape a child, and that child can shape the world.”
When asked what inspired Dr. Thao to write these bilingual books, she recalled a memory from working with her students who mistook Thao for a ‘Mexican lady’ teacher. “In my early years of teaching, I had, as we teachers call it, a ‘teachable moment.’ I started my career as a first-grade teacher in the Yuba City Unified School District. It was the first week of school, and one of my students was having a conversation with his friend about who their teachers were. When asked, my student responded ‘Miss Thao.’ The other student asked who Miss Thao was. My student said, ‘Oh you know, that Mexican lady!’ I do not think I look very Hispanic nor do I speak much Spanish. In the Yuba City area, we have a big East Indian population and very few Asian staff or diversity in general. Hearing that conversation was a wake-up call for me. I realized that my students had no idea who I am, or where I came from. Not only do my students not know about my ethnicity, but my colleagues also expressed how little they knew about the Hmong and diverse Asian ethnic groups. Clearly, it doesn’t exist in the History Social-Science curriculum nor do I have any literature or time in the classroom to teach them,” said Dr. Thao.
After hearing from her students about the lack of Hmong voices in children’s literature, Dr. Thao decided to focus on writing picture books that would share her Hmong family’s story and refugee experiences. Dr. Thao started her Master’s in Education: Curriculum & Instruction program at California State University, Chico where she knew she wanted to focus on a bilingual book project. “I started researching and realized that there was not a whole lot of resources or literature on the Hmong people, especially at the elementary level for my young learners. I came across My Grandfather’s Journey by Allen Say. This was a story about a boy tracing his Japanese heritage. I automatically connected to the character in the story, not only because he was Asian, but also because I could relate to the concept of immigrating to a new country and struggling with identity. As I reflected on my childhood as a Hmong American, I honestly do not remember being able to relate to any of the characters in mainstream readers or books that I read in the classroom. I can see why my nieces and nephews had a hard time identifying themselves as Hmong. I decided to write my own children’s picture books to share my family’s story and the historical and cultural context of the Hmong for my students and colleagues in the field,” said Dr. Thao.
Writing the bilingual book was a part of her master’s program project that Dr. Thao spent many hours planning, drafting, and designing the story and their plots. She worked tirelessly jotting down notes and sketch drawings from her Ipad and with the support and illustrations from her friend, Anderson, she finally finished her labor of love. As Dr. Thao stated, “Because it was part of my master’s degree, I had a span of four months to draft my story and plan out the illustrations on this bilingual book. I also had to do the Hmong translations. What started as notes on my iPad and became a bilingual children’s picture book.”
Writing and publishing her two books with the Hmong Educational Resources is one of her many goals in giving back to the Hmong community. Dr. Thao believes that dreams do come true, even when you don’t expect them to. “Sometimes the dreams that come true are the ones that we never thought we had. I have never really tried publishing stories until my students inspired me to write and share my own story. What a dream come true to publish with HER Publisher and share these books with students and their families across the U.S.” said Dr. Thao.
When asked how she came up with the title for her bilingual books, Dr. Thao said she wanted something to capture the story and immigration experiences of the Hmong. “I decided to choose a title that would capture our story, our experience of immigrating from one country to another. I decided to title my book ‘The Hmong Journey: Hmoob Txoj Kev Taug’ - the title somehow became very metaphorical of my own life journey. This book has taken me on journeys I have never imagined, from a child born in the refugee camp, to an educator with a doctorate at the University of Hawai‘i at Mānoa, and now a Program Specialist spearheading the Hmong History and Cultural Studies Model Curriculum.”
The first bilingual version of The Hmong Journey was published in 2018, then a complete Hmong version Hmoob Txoj Kev Taug published in the summer 2020. These books are historical, realistic fictional books told from the perspective of a Hmong grandma to her grandchild in the form of a bedtime story about Hmong life and the family’s journey, first from Laos to Thailand, escaping the Secret War and persecution, and finally immigrating to America. As Dr. Thao described, “This story was written to provide a mirror for Hmong students to see themselves in literature, as well as a window for non-Hmong students to learn about the Hmong people and to understand the journey Hmong families took from Laos and Thailand to get to America for the opportunity for a better life and future.”
As a Hmong author, Dr. Thao loves putting oral stories into books, to showcase the past and present as a teacher and moment of reflection for her students. “I love putting the oral stories that I grew up with into print and thinking about my audience. As I drafted these stories, I thought of the message I wanted to pass on to my nieces, nephews, and young learners about the Hmong people. I wrote the stories in words and language that my young learners could understand while taking care not to sugar coat anything. I wanted them to understand that the Hmong history and stories were not rainbows and butterflies. They were capable and deserved to know the ‘real’ Hmong stories. Writing and retelling these stories helped me to relive the journey that my Grandma and parents had lived and shared with us. I’ve loved being able to connect back to my origin and ancestry,” said Dr. Thao.
Writing children’s book is not only telling the story, but also believing in the process. “I have learned that writing is a process - the story won’t be perfect the first time. You just have to keep believing in the process and yourself!” said Dr. Thao.
Writing takes time, and it also involves a dedicated support system. Dr. Thao described that her parents are the most supportive persons in her life when it comes to her writing children’s books. “My parents are my supportive people, Yeng Thao and Wang Xiong. They have been supportive of my education, career, dreams, and adventures that I never thought I had. They inspire the stories that I write – their voices and experiences shine through my story. My story would also not be possible without the support and love of my parents and family” said Dr. Thao.
When asked what is her favorite part of the story that she wrote in the books, Dr. Thao said the Hmong New Year celebration pages were her favorite. “My favorite part is about the Hmong New Year festival - the one celebration that we get to look forward to every year. Girls and boys dressing up in their new Hmong outfits, ball tossing, and sharing talents. It is the one time of the year where Hmong get to celebrate a year’s worth of hard work - rekindle with old friends and meet new friends, as well as leaving behind the old year and welcoming the new,” said Dr. Thao.
When Dr. Thao is not writing, she loves to read or enjoy a good time at the beach, as well as travel to new places and try new things in life. “I love reading a good book while enjoying a nice sunset at the beach. I love to travel to new places, try new dishes, and explore the outdoors, especially hiking. I also enjoy spending quality time with my big family and being an auntie to my nieces and nephews,” said Dr. Thao.
If Dr. Thao could say one thing to young Hmong students and readers in the community, she hopes the young learners don’t forget who they are. “I hope that you never forget who you are and where you and your family came from. I share my story with you so that you can go out into the world and share yours...knowing that you are not alone. If I can do this, I know you can too. I hope to meet you someday and hear your story,” said Dr. Thao.
The Hmong Educational Resources (HER) Publisher believes in the power of education and the impact of stories. HER is an independent publisher of books about Hmong people, culture, and life experiences. To read more about Hmoob Txoj Kev Taug and The Hmong Journey, please visit www.herpublisher.com. The author would love to connect with readers and future authors, if you would like to know more about Dr. Ger Thao and her work, please feel free to email Thao at drgerthao@gmail.com.
I thought it would be a great idea to use oil paint to continue this tradition of telling stories without words. I also wanted to stretch the boundaries of this method of storytelling by adding my own personal commentary. I gravitated towards oil paint because it was more fluid and easier to manipulate than sewing. In my junior year (1993) I experimented and completed three pieces. A year after graduating from college (1996), I decided I wanted to make a series out of this. I went to China and started researching the history of the Hmong people. I completed ten pieces from 1996-1999. It was hard trying to paint and keep a job and pay the mortgage. In 2000, I received the Bush Artist Fellowship. I was able to spend a whole year concentrating on completing the series. I completed most of the series from 2000-2001. To complete the series, I traveled to three countries, read countless books, and talked to a number of people who experienced the war in Laos.
I want the series to educate the younger generation, to give closure to the generation that experienced the war, and hopefully to become a historical document for generations to come.
CY THAO is an artist, political leader, and businessman who made history in 2002 when he was elected to the Minnesota House of Representatives representing district 65A.
He was born on March 2, 1972 in Laos as the third child of Khoua Yang and Nhia Yong Thao. In 1975 when Thao was barely 3 years old, his family and many other Hmong families affected by the Secret War, were forced to flee from Communist Laos and relocate to refugee camps in Thailand. There in Ban Vinai refugee camp, Thao remembers fondly hunting rats for food and exploring the mountain when he sneaked out of the camp.
Finally, in 1980 his family was sponsored and able to immigrate to America. Settling in Minneapolis, Thao joined the Hmong Boy Scout Troop 100 where he eventually attained the rank of Eagle Scout. In America Thao understood the value of education and enrolled at the University of Minnesota Morris where he earned a degree in Political Science and Studio Art in 1995.
Thao was spurred to run for political office in the early 2000s, fighting for representation for minority communities, affordable healthcare, and education. He won his election in 2002. As a Hmong State Representative, he passed legislation to erect a memorial on the State Capital Grounds to honor Hmong Veterans of the “Secret War.” He also worked on legislation to provide healthcare for the poor.
After he left the legislature in 2010, Thao concentrated on building his family business. He currently develops, builds and operates assisted living facilities across the US. In his free time, Thao enjoys fishing and spending time with his wife, Lee Vang, and two daughters, Cyanne and Sienna.
As told by Dr. Yang, who is a Fulbright scholar and author of Sayaboury: Land of A Million Elephants, The Making of Hmong America, and many more: “Nuj Yob is the only survivor of a deadly disease that’s left him without a mother, a father, or a family. Or so he thinks...He is eventually adopted by a kindly farm pig, but knows he will outlive his foster-mother. On her deathbed, Nuj Yob hears rumors that his brave uncle had not died, but in fact, had transformed into a tiger. Armed with this knowledge, Nuj Yob begins an adventure to seek out his ferocious Tiger Uncle and learns the true meaning behind love, family, and how to be a human.”
Illustrated by Yinkong Vue, who is a visual developer and animator and is currently working on colorful illustrations that focus on character and world-building and making 2D animations with dynamic movement. When asked about his experience in illustrating this book, Yinkong described as: “I was very intrigued to read Dr. Kou Yang’s story. I was immediately taken back to my childhood, to the times my siblings and I would gather around my grandma and listen to her tell Hmong folktales. The stories were so diverse, fantastical, and uniquely Hmong!”
Graduated from the Minneapolis College of Art and Design, Yinkong had some similar illustration work before. “Much of my personal work actually deals with Hmong folktales and culture. This project was right up my alley so I knew I had to take it when the Hmong Educational Resources Publisher approached me,” said Yinkong.
HER Publisher is an independent publisher of books about Hmong people, culture, and life experiences. HER provides services for Hmong students, writers, educators, researchers, and graphic artists. Through copy editing, design, and mentorship, HER works with Hmong authors and artists every step of the way, to translate their stories from the visionary to a physical book.
HER wants to make sure Hmong artists have the flexible and freedom to express their own ideas in whichever way the artists wish to take the project. “As I started drafting the project, I was given much freedom with how to visually interpret the story. Beautifully written by Dr. Kou Yang, it was hard to decide which moments to illustrate. I went through many iterations but would eventually settle on what I felt were key moments in the story,” said Yinkong.
When asked what some other fun challenges with illustrating Hmong folktales are, Vue described as finding the right style and tone. “I ran into was finding the right style and tone of illustrations that would bring Dr. Kou Yang’s story to life. It was essential to me that Hmong imagery, colors, and patterns would be incorporated into the world and characters. What initially started as solemn illustrations eventually turned into playful, and expressive illustrations. Many Hmong folktales are told to children, but these tales can be related back to people of all ages; I wanted that balance to be reflected in these illustrations” said Yinkong.
The title of “The Sound of Qeej” was inspired from Lor’s father who used to play the qeej when he was alive. “I loved listening to him play, and I had one day hoped that I would write a story on the sound of it and what it brought to a person’s soul. The title came from my memories of listening to him play,” said Lor.
Lor expressed that it took her around two months to write and polish the book. “It took me two months. Writing it is easy, but the editing part took a while because I love too much about everything, and yet I had to let some things go.”
The themes behind her new book are mainly about memories and memories of the past that were left behind. As Lor stated, “The Sound of Qeej is about memories we leave behind and the past that we try to forget but can’t. When you read the book, those words and chapters will stir among you a longing of a forgotten moment or bring about memories that burned you. It’s about forgiveness and moving on, learning to say goodbye to old recordings and beginning new even though you’re scared.”
Writing this book is about allowing Lor to transport and challenge herself to do more in life. As Lor expressed, “Each chapter was like a new love that revealed why it was meant to be included in the book. Each time I sat down to write, it allowed me to transport myself into a time and place that reminded me why I am challenging myself daily to do more. I learned so much from writing this book. I learned about myself in ways I didn’t expect. I learned to let go of myself.”
The book is 169 pages, covers 23 chapters. Lor said her favorite chapter is the ending, about Finding Peace. “Let me just say that heroes come in disguises and sometimes they appear when you least expect them to.”
In elementary school, Lor would write stories to share with her teachers and peers, and most of her teacher complimented her writing skills. “What really made me realize I could become a writer was when I was eleven-year-old, and I submitted a piece of writing to the local Hmong newspaper in Oshkosh and they printed it. I remember hearing people talk about how it was a good story, and that made me realize I had touched people’s hearts,” said Lor.
Among writing, her passions also include reading, photography, and filmmaking. She is the founder of Houa Production, a film company in Minnesota, targeting modern Hmong films; her first release “Tuag Los Tseg” premiered at Carmike Theater. All these dreams were possible because of her parents’ sacrifice to cross the Mekong River and come to America. “My parents’ sacrifices to America was a big part of the inspiration. They had passed away, and I really hoped that they would get to read my writing and this new book. They gave my siblings and me an opportunity they didn’t have. So, when I wrote this book, I thought of their sacrifice. That is why this book is for them and for the many Hmong parents who have given their children the same dream.”
Beside writing, Lor is also a mother of six children and wife to Ko Vang. When it comes to her writing, her husband is the most supportive person in the writing process. “My husband is my biggest supporter. As a married woman in the Hmong community, I still battle with gender role equality. Yet, I have my right-hand person and that is him. No matter what I do, he is there to cheer me on and make sure I’m never alone when I walk across the finish line of this book.”
If Lor could share one piece of advices about writing Hmong books, she would encourage others to open doors to new friends and accept who they are. As Lor described, “Being a writer has helped me by opening doors to welcome warmth and friends in my life. I meet people who tell me that because of my writing, they changed this about themselves. This makes me cry because I’m never aware of how much I have impacted people, and then I realize that this too has influenced me to become aware of how I think of myself, my children and my spouse. I have learned to become positive and to accept all that I am.”
Beside writing, Lor has many other life interests. “I have many hobbies. I love hiking and nature is a second home to me. I’m a huge fan of photography and films. Reading books is always my best place to be. I love to cook and bake and to stay active, I love dancing.”
As Lor continues her writing, she hopes to someday release a new book about being a Hmong daughter-in-law. “I hope to release a book about the struggles of being a Hmong Nyab in the future, mainly poetry to feed on the hearts of the tears and the pain we each endure as we begin a new chapter called marriage,” said Lor.
If anything she could give to her fans and readers, she offers the following statement: “Never stop writing. A book, a story, anything you want to do always starts out as an idea no one believes in. Put your heart and soul into it. Choose to tell your story even if no one is listening because chances are, you never know who you are already inspiring and chances are, they are a silent watcher.”
The Hmong Educational Resources (HER) Publisher believes in the power of education and the impact of stories. HER is an independent publisher of books about Hmong people, culture, and life experiences. To read more about The Sound of Qeej, please visit www.herpublisher.com. Fans and readers could also follow the author at www.getintohouasmind.blogspot.com