Saint Paul, Minnesota | Karen | She/Her/Hers

I called my 13-year-old daughter and told her that we were going to California for our first family vacation. I told her, “Maggie, we’re going on a trip.”

“Where?”

“To San Diego, California!”

She was ecstatic because it was her first time going on a vacation out of the state, and stepping foot on an airplane. I told my other two children when they came home from school and they were equally as excited. I have never experienced this before; traveling with my kids.

It’s stressful being a single mother. I worked extremely hard over the last decade; from arriving to a new country as a refugee to gaining the courage to leave a domestically abusive relationship, and continuing my education in a graduate program at the University of Minnesota. I can now finally support my kids on my own. We can think about things like family vacations.

When we began packing, we didn’t know where to start. We didn’t know what to pack since California weather is so different from Minnesota. It was winter here but very warm there. We joked and said we’d just go buy new clothes when we arrived there. So we went on Google and YouTube to search for answers.

After waiting in line for a long time, we finally got on the airplane, but my son got very dizzy and nauseous. After the plane took off, he calmed down and became more excited. I think he realized that this vacation was a reality.

When we arrived in San Diego, we had a family member welcome us. She took us to visit many different places, such as the beach, sea lions, and historical landmarks. We spent five days sightseeing and enjoying the warm weather. The most memorable moment was when we arrived at the beach. We brought snacks and a mat, but forgot our swimsuits. Google and YouTube didn’t help, after all. My children were too excited so they didn’t care about what we were wearing, they just ran into the waves. I joined them. It was a very happy moment for us.

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Saint Paul, Minnesota | Filipina | She/Her/Hers

I am now retired. I originally came from the Philippines.

There were always meetings at our house, and reporters would interview my husband about what’s going on in the Philippines. So, when President Ferdinand Marcos was toppled, it was no longer politically viable for my husband to be in the Philippines.

We already had three kids then – 2, 6 and an 8-year-old. They were all old enough to understand what was going on.

We finally decided to put the house on the market. One day, I was packing and putting post-its on the furniture to indicate who it was to be given to. My husband and our baby were off shopping for food. As I was sorting out clothes, I heard the boys outside of our hallway bantering.

“You do it!”
“No, you do it!”
”You say it!”
“No, you!”
“You’re mommy’s favorite!”
“No, you are older.”
So I asked, “What’s going on boys?”

My 6-year-old blurted, “WE DON’T WANT TO COME WITH YOU TO THE PHILIPPINES!”

I said, “Yes, of course you are. You’re minors.”

The older one said, “We don’t want to come mommy, it’s not our country, it’s yours.”

I just slumped into the bed and started crying. Then, they were crying. I was crying because I was really looking forward to going home. I had been gone a long time already – almost ten years. I had not seen my parents. I said, “OK, let’s have a family meeting when daddy comes home.”

Daddy came home and asked, “Who died?”

“Nobody died, but our kids don’t want to come with us,” I said.

He responded, “Of course they are coming, they are minors.”

We always said we’d respect our children’s opinion; now they were giving it and we weren’t listening. At the family meeting my husband said, “You’ll love it there!”

We tried to convince them, but they were terrified with what they saw on television.

So we canceled our reservations. One of the politicians from the Philippines came to visit. She said, “For the sake of your kids, stay here.”

I was convinced it was the right thing to do, but I was torn between the future of my kids and my parents. My husband said, “Our parents are our past.Our children are our future. Who do you want to work for?” That’s when I realized that our children are the future and we decided to stay and make a life here.

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Duluth, Minnesota | Chinese | He/Him/His

He traveled 1,500 miles to the middle of America and ended up staying for life because justice called.

Dan Lew really had no clear aspirations about pursuing a law degree except it was something important to do after graduating from Queens College in New York City, and he believed in serving others for the greater good. He arrived in Minnesota in 1992 and adjusted pretty well to Midwestern life. He worked hard at school while working part time in catering, clerked for Minnesota’s first Asian judge Tony Leung, then graduated from Hamline Law school in 1995.

Little did he know, life would steer him to the Scandinavian realm of Northeast Minnesota and into public defense. Acquainting himself to the tight knit, majority White, community was challenging, but thanks to his New York attitude and hard work ethic, he easily won people over.

After ten years of working as a staff attorney then eight years as the managing attorney, Dan was appointed as Chief Public Defender. He oversaw legal services for indigent people for the entire northeast corner of Minnesota in 2014. Dan was the first Asian lawyer appointed to such a position in the state’s history, and is now part of a small cohort who holds the same position throughout the nation. It’s an incredible milestone for a kid from Astoria who earned C-average grades in high school.

In the shadows of the landmark case of Gideon vs Wainwright, Dan and his colleagues serve over 9,500 clients each year, as they traverse to six courthouses and advocate with tenacity and spirit; despite losses and the system’s bias. Gideon’s promise pushes him to do this work every day, but in reality it takes compassion, perseverance, and it’s about seeking the well-being of our fellow neighbors. Even the most honest and kind people sometimes find themselves in unfortunate circumstances with the law. Well, thank goodness for Gideon; and thank goodness for public defenders like Dan who uphold justice and equity.

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Oakdale, Minnesota | Hmong | She/Her/Hers

In elementary school, I recalled my class lining up and walking to the computer lab. My friends and I opened up Microsoft Word, giggling as we practiced typing different words. As I typed in “Hmong” a red squiggle lined the word; a word I knew so well. It labeled “Hmong” as a spelling error—non-existent. Maybe in St. Paul, I saw yellow faces like mine, but we must have been insignificant since Microsoft Word labeled my people as an error.

Fifth-grade. White faces everywhere—except for one Black—another Asian. I looked down. I was scared that the unfamiliar faces heard my heart thumping. Relax—No Hmong faces in sight. Relax—how will I talk to all these White kids? My English is no good. I’m not going to make any friends. What a great start to my first day of fifth grade at this new school—White faces. I wore my synthetic tongue, but I couldn’t use it. It hasn’t sunk in. You’ll have to get used to this eventually, Cydi. Switching from St. Paul Public Schools, where I saw a comfortable amount of Hmong faces, to a school where I was one of the only Hmong face, showed me that maybe there was something off. Hmong people barely existed in this school. At the end of fifth-grade, I walked away making only two friends who were White – yet, I never understood how to fit in with them.

For my seventh-grade country project, I wanted to present to the whole class about where I came from. My grandma always talked about the homeland. She sung her yearning in tunes, awaiting for our return to the mountains of Laos. My mom and dad reassured me that Laos was our homeland. Laos. Laos. Laos. That is where we were from. I researched on my school computer. My feet jittered. I desired to learn more about my homeland. Where do yellow people like me come from? When I typed in “Hmong flag” the Laos flag popped up. It read “Laotian flag.” I scrunch my eyebrows and felt a drop in my chest. Where was the Hmong flag?—oh darn—non-existent—again. Google search. Laos. Google informed me about Laotian population, Laotian dishes, and Laotian culture. But, where was the information about the Hmong population, Hmong dishes, Hmong culture? I thought our homeland was Laos?
Growing up in Mt. Airy public housing off of 35E, right behind Regions Hospital, I remember when the swing area behind my cousin’s house flooded with water to our ankles. My cousins and I played what we called ‘The Secret War.’

“Run! Run the soldiers are coming! Cross the Mekong!” My cousin Iab yelled.

My brother Randy held his imaginary gun and chased after us. My cousins, Siab, Iab, Mai K, and I ran frantically across the sandbox as muddy water splashed onto our clothing. I grew up with this narrative, but unsure of how that fit with me as a Hmong in America. I heard vaguely about crossing the Mekong River, Thailand refugee camps, the honorable General Vang Pao, and our homeland: Laos. But overall, Hmong history was nowhere in sight—only in the sight of our elders and our parents who spoke so little about it.

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Ramsey, Minnesota | Hmong/Mixed Race | He/Him/His

My name is Brian Berg, I am fourteen years old. I’m Hmong and Caucasian. One of my talents is b-cubing, which is the process of solving a rubix cube really fast. My fastest time is 5.4 seconds. At the age of four, I loved solving puzzles. At five, I was solving two to three hundred puzzles in 10 to 15 minutes. The challenge of solving things at a fast pace is very rewarding to me.

While visiting family in Las Vegas, a cousin of mine had an array of rubix cubes. He was able to solve it in one minute. At that time, I was only able to solve one side. So, when I got home, I started practicing. Then I started getting faster and faster. I watched YouTube and memorized different algorithms.

I went to a competition in the summer of 2016 and I loved it. After that, photographers, newspapers, and even Kare11 News ran stories about me. The exposure challenged me to do better. I think the mind is capable of doing much more, and I like to challenge myself to do better. This is probably why I have multiple talents. My other talents are saturating arithmetic, computer coding, wrestling, soccer, and more.

The happiest moment of my life was when my two sisters, Xaybriana and Maybella, were born. For five years I was the only child. My mom was pregnant with my sister Xaybree, and when she born still on Christmas, it was a sad time. It’s made me appreciate my two sisters that I have now.

I was beyond excited to become a big brother. I got to teach them how to walk and talk. But now, I sometimes regret teaching them how to talk; they just talk non-stop now. My best friends are my two sisters, because they make me very happy and teach me many life lessons like patience, how to work in a team, and how to share.

I like being half Hmong and half Caucasian. Last year I wrote a documentary for national history day for my class about the Secret War in Laos. I was able to interview some leaders in the Hmong community. One who is well-known is Dr. Yang Dao. I learned about how much he risked and helped our Hmong community. It was very humbling. I believe that as a younger generation we need to be more educated about our own history to fully appreciate how we got here.

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Apple Valley, Minnesota | Taiwanese | He/Him/His

My name is Al and I am a first generation Taiwanese American from the Pacific Northwest. Moving to Minnesota has meant many things to my family; as an Asian-White couple and mixed-race family. It has meant choosing big change. We moved from a moderate climate to a frigid climate, an inner city-urban setting to a suburban-agricultural setting, and from having a community to having to find a new community. Our new community is more homogenous than before. I have never felt more foreign to my surroundings than I do now.

That being said, Minnesota has surprised me. I have found inspiration from like-minded folks,both Asian-American and others,working to ensure the voice of immigrants and minorities is heard in our community. These include religious leaders, legislators, community activists, and other passionate people. Being in a mixed-race couple, we have found footing; allowing us to bridge, listen, and talk to two communities and cultures.

Among deaf ears and empty words, I have found encouragement in listening ears and substantial words. For as many as there are resisting to change the majority narrative, I have found inspiration from those who are willing to take a hard look at themselves, work towards changing their communities, and their interpersonal relationships to reflect a better narrative: one that better speaks for all Americans and not just the few.

For sure, there were a lot of snow when we moved here, but I also unexpectedly found inspiring people from all backgrounds. And that – is my Minnesota Asian Story. Thank you, Minnesota!

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