I am Hmong.  I was born in Laos.  In 1975, I was forced to flee with four brothers and two sisters across the Mekong River to a refugee camp in Thailand.  We were resettled in the United States as refugees in 1990.

I often think about those days now.  I remember Laos and the war.  I cry when I tell my children about what happened to us.  When I was a young girl, communists attacked our village.  I fled with some of my brothers and sisters into the jungle, and never found my mother and father again.  My brothers and sisters and I hid in the jungle for three years, eating nothing but the roots of plants and the small animals we were able to kill.  We finally had to surrender to the communists because we were starving.  We were held in a prison camp for a year before we were released and started looking for the rest of our family. 

My husband, as well as the other men in my family fought in the war against the communists.  The U.S. C.I.A. recruited them to fight in General Vang Pao’s army, and one of my uncles was even trained as a pilot.  My husband was a soldier who lived in the jungle and fought for many years before he fled to Thailand when the U.S. withdrew from Laos.  Many of my relatives were killed in the fighting. 

My siblings and I fled on foot through the jungle, crossing the Mekong River.  We found shelter in a U.N. refugee camp in Thailand—that is where I met my husband!  We got married there in a traditional ceremony.  Our oldest daughter was also born in the camp.  We were all granted refugee status and resettled in the U.S. in 1990.  The rest of my family was sent to France.  Although we have lived in the U.S. for many years, neither my husband nor I know how to read, write or speak English.

Since our arrival in the United States, we have lived in California.  We had five children here in the U.S.  My husband and I have found work in Minnesota and we have just moved here.  My husband works during the day and I work on the overnight shift so that one of us is always home with the children.  We don’t want to send our kids to daycare because it’s not part of our culture.  It is also very expensive.  Our oldest daughter is very responsible and helps to take care of her younger brothers and sisters. 

At times I feel lost here.  Our children speak English very well, but neither my husband nor I speak English.  In fact, we don't know how to read any language.  We rely on our children to help us with translation. 

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