Represent Represent

Author’s Note: This piece is half of a poem and half of it is a spoken word. It talks about the things I represent and the many identities I have. At this point, I’ve probably performed this piece about six or seven times now throughout my duration in college. I received the idea of creating this piece by seeing Terisa Siagatonu perform her spoken word piece “Raise Up” at the 2018 Asian and Pacific Islanders in the Higher Education Conference in Oakland, California. Her piece resonated so much with me and understanding my identity as an Asian-American and how powerful our voices and stories are to our communities. So, I borrowed some components from her piece and also added some twists of my own to make it personal for me. I hope you enjoy it.

5 Minutes Read

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I’m not here to chastise you for what you did or what you didn’t do. My question to you is. What do you represent? You may be confused by that question. Do you represent yourself? Family? Friends? Ethnicity? Culture? Education? Religion? I’m going to move on to something else but keep thinking about it.

So last Wednesday, I turned 20. I know right, this baby face turning 20?! Crazy. After finishing my job for the day. I went home and ate. While I was eating I was talking to my grandma. Our conversation soon leads to a topic that we’ve discussed before. Well, more like I sat and listened as she lectured. My grandma asked me. “How old are you turning today?” I said “20” And then my grandma follows that up by asking me “When am I going to get married?” “When am I going to have kids.?”

Our conversation soon led to another question that was the most difficult question for me to answer. That was “When am I going to get my bachelor’s degree? Her Hmong voice was powerful and stern and yet her question was one filled with innocence.
I told her “Soon.” Which is a lie. But she understands that the lies I tell are not lies. Because she was the one who taught me that, people keep secrets for a reason. And the truth can be worse than any lie to cover it up.

I represent her hopes and dreams.

The Hmong people were involved in the Secret War in Laos. The war lasted from 1961 – 1975. In those 14 years, 30,000 Hmong soldiers died. Those soldiers always lived with a shroud on them. When they die in a nameless place for the sake of the Secret war, the place of their death becomes their grave and their uniform becomes their shroud. These soldiers’ ranged from 12 – 60 years old. The war may have ended in 1975 but the killing didn’t. That was when the genocide began. Between 1975 – 1985 100,000 Hmong died trying to flee to other countries. Another 50,000 died just from trying to cross the Mekong River to Thailand. Due to our cooperation to fight for the US in Laos. The Vietnamese government ordered all Hmong people to be killed. But you wouldn’t know this. Because it’s not in our K-12 History books. My grandma told me stories of her experience during those hellish years in Laos. One of her friends from her village volunteered to be a nurse in the war when it first began. When my grandma was able to see her friend again years after the war, her friend told my grandma about the things she witnessed. From what my grandma shared with me, I put it into these simple words, “a doctor with a scalpel sees more death than a soldier with a gun.”

I represent the Hmong soldier’s sacrifices.

With that knowledge about how difficult it was for my ancestors to come to the US. I used that as motivation to obtain a quality education. Because I know that this is a privilege! My privilege to be in this country and my privilege to pursue an education. I’m here not trying to disappoint my ancestors and my fellow Hmong brother and sisters. Who may have left those refugee camps. But their souls and spirits are still in the refugee camps in Thailand. In my freshman year in high school. There were 17 Hmong students in my projected graduating class of 2017. Four years later, on graduation night. Only 16 Hmong students graduated. From Chico High. But only 4 of us were committed to a four-year university. Two years later and I met those twelve students who didn’t go to a four-year university again. Six of them, don’t want to pursue education anymore.

I represent the Hmong youths that hasn’t been brought down by a system and society built against us.

When I attended a conference 8 months ago in April for Asian Pacific Americans in Higher Education. Also known as APAHE. In one of the workshops I attended there, the presenters asked us to participate in an activity. We were given a prompt to create lyrics and perform them for the people who were in that workshop session. The prompt was “What do you represent?” So naturally, I volunteered. And I began with…

Represent Represent!

So ask yourself, what do you represent?

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Hello, I would appreciate it if you would give me feedback on what you enjoyed and what you didn’t. If you have any questions, please don’t hesitate to comment or email me too! Thank you.