April 30, 2025, marks the 50th anniversary of the end of the Vietnam War or what Vietnamese call “The American War.” I majored in history with a focus on Asian history at UC Irvine. My parents often shared stories of their journey to America, and I always wanted to learn more. Their stories sounded unbelievable most times. How they survived every day in fear for their lives is something that is beyond me. It has been 50 years since my parents experienced what many know as “the Fall of Saigon.” If you’ve been reading my columns, you know my parents came to this country as refugees from the Vietnam War and that I am of Vietnamese, Cambodian, Chinese, and French descent. I spent a lot of my adulthood trying to educate myself on my diverse cultures. I made a goal of at least visiting by age 30 the four countries that make up my genetic DNA. Fortunately, I was able to visit every single one by 26 years of age. I even had the chance to travel to other Asian countries and cities, such as Japan, South Korea, Taiwan, Hong Kong, Thailand, Malaysia, Indonesia, the Philippines, and Singapore. I even had the opportunity to intern for a summer in Singapore at an international law firm. A couple of fun facts about Singapore: English is the main language (it was a British colony), and the country also practices common law, although it’s closer to the United Kingdom in terms of application. None of these experiences make it easier to process April 30, and every time April 30 comes around, I can’t help but think about the Fall of Saigon and what my parents had to endure during that time and even now.
I first learned about the Vietnam War through the perspective of my refugee parents and later studied it academically in college. In college, I learned the perspective of “the other side” through books and my professors, who were removed from the experience. I also heard stories from Vietnamese people in America and Vietnam during this time. Learning about different perspectives on the Vietnam War made me see this war in a different light. It taught me that war is not something I ever want to live through. Both sides suffered in their own way. What did and does the Fall of Saigon mean to Americans? To the Vietnamese? To Vietnamese Americans? To the world? These are difficult questions to answer. What I do know is that the traumatic history of my (Vietnamese) people continues to grow and get more complex.
As I’ve gotten older, I’ve reflected on my life and how I got here. Such reflection often involves pausing to consider past events, emotions, and choices. It allows for deeper self-understanding and growth. I’ve found that reflecting helps me gain perspective, learn from my experiences, and make better, more informed decisions in the future. I’ve leaned into my past and embraced my experiences. I believe by accepting both the positive and negative aspects of your life journey, including your feelings, challenges, and growth, you’ll ultimately be a better person for yourself and your community. I say all of this because there were times during my childhood when I didn’t understand why I would get bullied for how I looked (other kids would often use both hands and put them toward their eyes to cause them to slant and then blurt out things like “ching chong”), the foreign food I would eat, or the different languages I spoke in public. However, I learned early on that I should be proud of my uniqueness because it makes you who you are. Eating foreign food makes me more cultured, and speaking different languages is a true skill. And how I looked growing up—that’s actually something children (or anyone) cannot control. The excuse of “they are just children” does not excuse bad behavior. That child learned the behavior by observing someone else. And that’s how hate, misunderstanding, and even fear spread. While I share my experiences that occurred in my past, the unfortunate truth is that this type of unwelcome and uncalled-for behavior still exists—and not just on the playground.
As an Asian American, I always welcome the month of May, as it is Asian American Pacific Islander (AAPI) Heritage Month. There are many community events hosted by several organizations to spread awareness of Asian cultures. I recently learned that the month of June is widely recognized as Refugee Awareness Month in the United States and is observed globally as World Refugee Day on June 20. While it has not been officially declared so by a single entity, the United Nations has designated June 20 as the official day for international observance. The month serves as a time to raise awareness about the plight of refugees and their contributions to society. Without the Fall of Saigon, my parents would have never met. Without the United States welcoming my parents with open arms, my siblings and I would not be here. America and being American means something to the rest of the world. To my parents back then, it was a chance for a better life. We, as Americans, have the freedom to wake up and not wonder if we are going to eat or die at a moment’s notice. I don’t take my parents’ stories and experiences for granted. The fact that they are still here and are willing to share their experiences is a gift. It’s a reminder to me and others who hear their stories that we are extremely fortunate to live in America and be Americans, even in times of uncertainty.
After many years, I view stories that stem from the Vietnam War as a large collection, and each story has hopes, dreams, tragedy, and pain. History is often preserved from the perspective of those who survived or won. As an Asian American and specifically a Vietnamese American, I am someone with a foot in two worlds. I just want to root for the success and happiness of Vietnamese people everywhere. We are all somehow connected through our DNA, our culture, and events that took place more than 50 years ago. Sharing our stories helps us connect as human beings regardless of age, race, or background.
We live in very trying and challenging times. I was sworn in as president of the Pan Asian Lawyers of San Diego (PALSD) on May 6, 2025. While I didn’t imagine I would begin my PALSD presidency in this political climate, I believe I am well-equipped to handle the challenges that the organization may face. Lawyers are capable of adapting to uncomfortable situations. Our jobs often call for it. I’d be remiss if I didn’t mention that it was a full-circle moment for me. Full-circle moments aren’t necessarily about ending where we started but about returning with new perspective, wisdom, and courage. I am a former PALSD Bar Scholarship recipient and was one of the last mentees of one of the founders of PALSD, Peter Quon Jr., who passed away in 2020. I understand the huge responsibilities and expectations that come with this role. A large part of his legacy is PALSD. For my PALSD presidency to start close to the 50th anniversary of the Fall of Saigon, during AAPI Heritage Month in May, and close to Refugee Awareness Month in June, I can’t help but feel a sense of completeness, a recognition of how my life has come full circle. My own journey has brought me here. Resilience and perseverance are in my blood, and it’s an honor to identify as Vietnamese and Vietnamese American.
