Kristy & Family
My parents came to the United States from Vietnam in the early 1990s.
Before the Vietnam War, both of my parents did live in poverty. My father was the fourth out of 13 children, and his dad was a rice farmer, so there were a lot of mouths to feed. He said there were times where the youngest kid wasn't even able to eat because it always starts out with their dad, then mom, and then down the line of kids from oldest to youngest to eat. My dad’s favorite memories are probably spending time with his 13 siblings working in the fields.
Education was very important to him. In the lower income families and neighborhoods, if you couldn't afford going to school, you couldn't afford it, and you just wouldn’t know how to read and write, but my dad was very committed. There was a school many miles away and across a river, but he would get to school every day anyway. When it came to that river, he had to take off all his clothes and his backpack. He walked through the river, then had to dry off and put his clothes back on to go to school.
My dad was in the military during the Vietnam War. He was captured as a prisoner of war and put in jail by the communists a few times during the war because he was helping the Americans. The conditions he was put in, he told me, were horrible. They put him in a jail cell that was wet and had cockroaches. He had to eat rice that was 10 days old and had mold in it. He said his favorite memory from his time as a prisoner of war was hunting for better food with the friends he made there. He said even though it was a dark time, a very negative time in his life, he still sees it as a good memory because then he met new people. He became friends with many, many, many other prisoners. There were some American prisoners, too. My dad felt bad because a lot of young American men were being sent over blindly, not knowing the geography, not knowing what they're doing. He tried to show them the ways of Vietnam, how to hunt, what they would eat.
Following the war, the Americans were recruiting individuals to come to the United States who had helped them during the war. He left because the Southern Vietnamese Army had seen that he was helping the Americans. He knew what was going on in Vietnam and that there was a better life in America. He even left his children behind. His children were already grown and they wanted to stay with their mother in Vietnam. My dad came to the US out of necessity. It was hard for him to leave Vietnam because he was in the military and his love for his country was large. It was hard for him to leave, but he just knew, because the war was lost, that there was nothing left for him to stay for.
My father was recruited to go to America, but he decided to hop on a boat that he made himself because wanted a faster process to get to the US. My dad, his sister, and his nephew got on the boat. He told me they floated for days before hitting Malaysia. US soldiers recognized them as Vietnamese immigrants and put them in a refugee camp. Over a year later, they flew him to California. They had to prove that they were worthy of going to America because Americans didn’t want to help communists, so there was kind of a screening process. Because my dad had a military background, he worked security in the camp, standing around and helping citizens not pass curfew at 10pm. My dad was in Malaysia at that refugee camp for Vietnamese citizens for about a year before he got transferred to California.
My parents are both refugees, and they all had to go through a tough process to get here. They had to leave everything behind: their house, their property, their money, everything. For my mom, though, it was definitely more voluntary. She knew there would be better opportunities if her and her kids went. She was actually married at that time and had to get a divorce because you had to be single to come. Her two youngest brothers were also single, and they came, too. My two grandparents from my mom's side got to come with.
For my mom, having in mind the goal for a better life for her family in America, it was easier for her to leave everything. Here, there are better chances to grow, better chances to make money and send it back to Vietnam. They just kept in mind the goal of the American dream. The opportunities that are presented here are a lot greater.
My grandpa on my mom’s side was a businessman in Vietnam. They had a house that wasn’t super big, but it fit him, my grandma, and six children. My mom had that privilege of being higher class than my dad did, but still, everybody in the family was hustling to make money. No matter how old you were, what you earned would go toward supporting your family. During the war, they just did whatever they could to make money.
My mom had a brother who was half-American, so when they came back to collect all the American and half-American children from the war, the US gave each family five members who you could choose to come with. She was flown to the Philippines, but the process was a little bit interesting. Everyone was given a number and told to wait in housing - just cots in a huge building you were sharing with other people. She had two young children (my two brothers) with her, and they were told that that was the route to go to America.
They had to find jobs in the Philippines while they were waiting. My mom didn't know the language, and not a lot of people knew it, but the refugee camp offered translators. She sold fruit, cooked, did pedicures and massages, and other very random jobs. In the refugee camp, they lived in a huge, unsanitary building. If you were lucky, your family would get their own room, but if not, everyone would sleep on cots in the big open spaces. It was rough, and money was hard to come by. On top of that, you’re in a whole new country. You didn't get to bring many of your belongings because they were told to pack lightly. My mom only had a backpack, and it was full of my brother’s clothes. After two years, their number was called, and someone told her, “It's your turn to go to America." My mom was transferred to Fargo because they were trying to diversify the city. At least 30 families were placed here in Fargo in the early 90s. Those families became pretty tight knit, and now it has grown a lot. Now we probably have over 200 families living in the area.
My parents didn't know a lick of English when they moved here, and they had no money. I can't imagine how scary it would be because when they placed my mom here in Fargo, North Dakota, it was in the dead middle of winter. She did not know what winter was. My mom and her family were in shock. Nonprofits around Fargo-Moorhead really helped them adjust the area which I'm so grateful for. My parents speak some English now - they could probably understand you. My mom knows how to speak it a lot more than my dad. They picked up a lot of English from the different jobs they worked. It's actually very common for a lot of families to come over here to get jobs that Americans see as low-paying, low-priority here, but that are attractive to immigrants because they don’t require much English, and they make money to send back to their families.
My parents were both shocked by nonprofits. In Vietnam, there's nothing like them - if you're in poverty, you're in poverty. There's no one to help you get out of it. They were shocked with how much help there was here and how many people reached out with open hands. My parents did face some racism in the beginning because the Vietnam War hadn’t ended too long before and there was still a lot of stigma surrounding it. There are still moments when they experience prejudice, but for the most part, people were very, very nice and very open.
My parents are both very close to their families who live in Vietnam. I've met all of them. I'm pretty immersed into the culture, and in 2019 I went back to Vietnam, so I got to relive some memories. Growing up, I had gone to Vietnam probably a handful of times, so I've been blessed that way. To keep the culture alive, my parents never spoke English to me, so Vietnamese was a very prominent language to me while I was growing up. I remember the first day of school when I was speaking Vietnamese to people. I didn’t understand why people didn’t understand me. Through school, I learned English really well.
My dad misses Vietnam, and when he is there, he wants to stay. He has a lot of family there, still, who live in the countryside, so he really enjoys visiting. When my mom travels to Vietnam, she gets homesick because her sons and grandchildren are here in the US. She misses spending time with her sisters in Vietnam, but for the most part she doesn’t miss it too much. My mom considers the US to be home, but my dad will always, always, always consider Vietnam home. Communication to family back home is hard, but it keeps getting easier with apps like Facetime and Whatsapp. It was very hard when they first came here and lost contact with their family probably for a couple years.
I really want to go back to Vietnam next year. I want to go back as much as possible because now the country has turned into something so beautiful. A lot of people still hold the misconception of it being such a war torn country, but the landscape, the vibe, and the people there are just so beautiful. The country has definitely changed. In the south, it has become more westernized. If you ever want to travel to Vietnam, starting out in the South is the better bet. Either way, Americans are loved there. People there have the American Dream in mind and think anyone from America is the best. America is put on the pedestal. There's a level of prestige you hold when they find out that you're American or you're visiting from America.
My parents have sponsored a lot of Vietnamese families to come to the US. They'd live together for a few months until they got situated and then they’d find a house or an apartment and jobs. That’s how I met a couple of my best friends now - they were placed with my family, and we just clicked. My parents felt strongly about keeping the culture within the family, so we learned how to eat, cook, and speak Vietnamese, and we wear traditional clothing on New Years.
My mom really enjoyed the food of Vietnam. She's a huge foodie. She's the only one in the family who can really cook. My grandparents never cooked, either, so I asked, "Mom, where did you learn it all?" She told me she would sneak into cooking classes or watch people on the street because street food is so popular in Vietnam. My mom home-cooked every single meal while having a job. I didn't even get to eat fast food until I was in high school. I had heard of McDonald’s but didn't even really know what it was. Thinking back, I'm very grateful that my mom actually put in the time to make these traditional meals and celebrate Lunar New Year. A lot of traditions happen around food, and that's the only time out of the whole entire year that we eat those traditional foods. We used to celebrate a lot more traditional Vietnamese holidays, but our main thing is the Lunar New Year, and that celebration goes for at least three days straight. We have a tradition of “lucky money,” where you hand out little red envelopes full of money to wish your elders (grandma, grandpa, mom, dad) healthy wishes. The Vietnamese community in Fargo-Moorhead is very tight knit, so I know everybody and they know everybody, too. It's a pretty tight-knit community.
I learned to cook from my mom. She was one of the main inspirations for opening my catering business. I didn't realize until college or maybe even after that culture is just so important to me. Growing up, I hated my culture. I asked myself, "Why can't I just be blond with blue eyes and eat normal stuff?" I was made fun of for the foods my parents would pack for me in my lunch, like fried rice and steak or rice and steak. Now I sit back and I feel so bad because I was so angry at my parents. I just wanted to fit in.
Another reason I started my business is to cook authentic Vietnamese food. A lot of Vietnamese restaurants have dumbed down their recipes to cater to white Americans who can't handle the spices or flavor. My business model is authentic Vietnamese food - I cook for you just like I do for my family. I will never serve something that isn't actually what it's supposed to taste like. Outside of my family’s cooking, Fargo-Moorhead also offers Vietnamese restaurants like Pho D'licious and Le’s Banh Mi.
Once I got to college, I was actually the president of the Vietnamese Student Association for a few years and tried to bring the culture back because I felt that with my generation, it was getting lost. Not a lot of people wanted to speak Vietnamese. Not a lot of people wanted to eat the food. Now it is different - people want to eat the food and experience it. I tried to bring that forward and teach the younger Vietnamese American students to really embrace their culture and to speak the language.
I would say that it is hard to keep my identity as a Vietnamese person in the United States, 100%. I grew up in a predominantly white Caucasian town, and I am grateful that they never really treated me too differently. I was privileged in that area. Now that I look back at it, though, I wonder why my friends never asked me more questions about my culture and showed that interest. Ultimately, the last year of college, and then after graduating, I made the decision to be like, "Why am I so ashamed? It's a beautiful culture." I need to bring it forward, move it forward. Now I'm more forward with it, and present it more as, “Hi, I'm Kristy. I'm Vietnamese American. I'm Asian American, and I'm very proud of it.”
There's so much diversity here in America, and there's so many different types of people. You can't really define who is “American” by the way a person looks. You can’t make assumptions because all of a sudden you might find out that someone was born in a different country.
I wish native-born Americans wanted to educate themselves and learn why other people do things the way they do. I wish they had more patience and put themselves in the immigrant's shoes. My parents struggled a lot with fitting in. The perspective people hold of thinking immigrants are lower-life than people who are already in America is very harmful. I just hope and wish to see people who cross paths with immigrants be more open minded and give them more grace.
I want everybody and anybody to learn and grow.
Before the Vietnam War, both of my parents did live in poverty. My father was the fourth out of 13 children, and his dad was a rice farmer, so there were a lot of mouths to feed. He said there were times where the youngest kid wasn't even able to eat because it always starts out with their dad, then mom, and then down the line of kids from oldest to youngest to eat. My dad’s favorite memories are probably spending time with his 13 siblings working in the fields.
Education was very important to him. In the lower income families and neighborhoods, if you couldn't afford going to school, you couldn't afford it, and you just wouldn’t know how to read and write, but my dad was very committed. There was a school many miles away and across a river, but he would get to school every day anyway. When it came to that river, he had to take off all his clothes and his backpack. He walked through the river, then had to dry off and put his clothes back on to go to school.
My dad was in the military during the Vietnam War. He was captured as a prisoner of war and put in jail by the communists a few times during the war because he was helping the Americans. The conditions he was put in, he told me, were horrible. They put him in a jail cell that was wet and had cockroaches. He had to eat rice that was 10 days old and had mold in it. He said his favorite memory from his time as a prisoner of war was hunting for better food with the friends he made there. He said even though it was a dark time, a very negative time in his life, he still sees it as a good memory because then he met new people. He became friends with many, many, many other prisoners. There were some American prisoners, too. My dad felt bad because a lot of young American men were being sent over blindly, not knowing the geography, not knowing what they're doing. He tried to show them the ways of Vietnam, how to hunt, what they would eat.
Following the war, the Americans were recruiting individuals to come to the United States who had helped them during the war. He left because the Southern Vietnamese Army had seen that he was helping the Americans. He knew what was going on in Vietnam and that there was a better life in America. He even left his children behind. His children were already grown and they wanted to stay with their mother in Vietnam. My dad came to the US out of necessity. It was hard for him to leave Vietnam because he was in the military and his love for his country was large. It was hard for him to leave, but he just knew, because the war was lost, that there was nothing left for him to stay for.
My father was recruited to go to America, but he decided to hop on a boat that he made himself because wanted a faster process to get to the US. My dad, his sister, and his nephew got on the boat. He told me they floated for days before hitting Malaysia. US soldiers recognized them as Vietnamese immigrants and put them in a refugee camp. Over a year later, they flew him to California. They had to prove that they were worthy of going to America because Americans didn’t want to help communists, so there was kind of a screening process. Because my dad had a military background, he worked security in the camp, standing around and helping citizens not pass curfew at 10pm. My dad was in Malaysia at that refugee camp for Vietnamese citizens for about a year before he got transferred to California.
My parents are both refugees, and they all had to go through a tough process to get here. They had to leave everything behind: their house, their property, their money, everything. For my mom, though, it was definitely more voluntary. She knew there would be better opportunities if her and her kids went. She was actually married at that time and had to get a divorce because you had to be single to come. Her two youngest brothers were also single, and they came, too. My two grandparents from my mom's side got to come with.
For my mom, having in mind the goal for a better life for her family in America, it was easier for her to leave everything. Here, there are better chances to grow, better chances to make money and send it back to Vietnam. They just kept in mind the goal of the American dream. The opportunities that are presented here are a lot greater.
My grandpa on my mom’s side was a businessman in Vietnam. They had a house that wasn’t super big, but it fit him, my grandma, and six children. My mom had that privilege of being higher class than my dad did, but still, everybody in the family was hustling to make money. No matter how old you were, what you earned would go toward supporting your family. During the war, they just did whatever they could to make money.
My mom had a brother who was half-American, so when they came back to collect all the American and half-American children from the war, the US gave each family five members who you could choose to come with. She was flown to the Philippines, but the process was a little bit interesting. Everyone was given a number and told to wait in housing - just cots in a huge building you were sharing with other people. She had two young children (my two brothers) with her, and they were told that that was the route to go to America.
They had to find jobs in the Philippines while they were waiting. My mom didn't know the language, and not a lot of people knew it, but the refugee camp offered translators. She sold fruit, cooked, did pedicures and massages, and other very random jobs. In the refugee camp, they lived in a huge, unsanitary building. If you were lucky, your family would get their own room, but if not, everyone would sleep on cots in the big open spaces. It was rough, and money was hard to come by. On top of that, you’re in a whole new country. You didn't get to bring many of your belongings because they were told to pack lightly. My mom only had a backpack, and it was full of my brother’s clothes. After two years, their number was called, and someone told her, “It's your turn to go to America." My mom was transferred to Fargo because they were trying to diversify the city. At least 30 families were placed here in Fargo in the early 90s. Those families became pretty tight knit, and now it has grown a lot. Now we probably have over 200 families living in the area.
My parents didn't know a lick of English when they moved here, and they had no money. I can't imagine how scary it would be because when they placed my mom here in Fargo, North Dakota, it was in the dead middle of winter. She did not know what winter was. My mom and her family were in shock. Nonprofits around Fargo-Moorhead really helped them adjust the area which I'm so grateful for. My parents speak some English now - they could probably understand you. My mom knows how to speak it a lot more than my dad. They picked up a lot of English from the different jobs they worked. It's actually very common for a lot of families to come over here to get jobs that Americans see as low-paying, low-priority here, but that are attractive to immigrants because they don’t require much English, and they make money to send back to their families.
My parents were both shocked by nonprofits. In Vietnam, there's nothing like them - if you're in poverty, you're in poverty. There's no one to help you get out of it. They were shocked with how much help there was here and how many people reached out with open hands. My parents did face some racism in the beginning because the Vietnam War hadn’t ended too long before and there was still a lot of stigma surrounding it. There are still moments when they experience prejudice, but for the most part, people were very, very nice and very open.
My parents are both very close to their families who live in Vietnam. I've met all of them. I'm pretty immersed into the culture, and in 2019 I went back to Vietnam, so I got to relive some memories. Growing up, I had gone to Vietnam probably a handful of times, so I've been blessed that way. To keep the culture alive, my parents never spoke English to me, so Vietnamese was a very prominent language to me while I was growing up. I remember the first day of school when I was speaking Vietnamese to people. I didn’t understand why people didn’t understand me. Through school, I learned English really well.
My dad misses Vietnam, and when he is there, he wants to stay. He has a lot of family there, still, who live in the countryside, so he really enjoys visiting. When my mom travels to Vietnam, she gets homesick because her sons and grandchildren are here in the US. She misses spending time with her sisters in Vietnam, but for the most part she doesn’t miss it too much. My mom considers the US to be home, but my dad will always, always, always consider Vietnam home. Communication to family back home is hard, but it keeps getting easier with apps like Facetime and Whatsapp. It was very hard when they first came here and lost contact with their family probably for a couple years.
I really want to go back to Vietnam next year. I want to go back as much as possible because now the country has turned into something so beautiful. A lot of people still hold the misconception of it being such a war torn country, but the landscape, the vibe, and the people there are just so beautiful. The country has definitely changed. In the south, it has become more westernized. If you ever want to travel to Vietnam, starting out in the South is the better bet. Either way, Americans are loved there. People there have the American Dream in mind and think anyone from America is the best. America is put on the pedestal. There's a level of prestige you hold when they find out that you're American or you're visiting from America.
My parents have sponsored a lot of Vietnamese families to come to the US. They'd live together for a few months until they got situated and then they’d find a house or an apartment and jobs. That’s how I met a couple of my best friends now - they were placed with my family, and we just clicked. My parents felt strongly about keeping the culture within the family, so we learned how to eat, cook, and speak Vietnamese, and we wear traditional clothing on New Years.
My mom really enjoyed the food of Vietnam. She's a huge foodie. She's the only one in the family who can really cook. My grandparents never cooked, either, so I asked, "Mom, where did you learn it all?" She told me she would sneak into cooking classes or watch people on the street because street food is so popular in Vietnam. My mom home-cooked every single meal while having a job. I didn't even get to eat fast food until I was in high school. I had heard of McDonald’s but didn't even really know what it was. Thinking back, I'm very grateful that my mom actually put in the time to make these traditional meals and celebrate Lunar New Year. A lot of traditions happen around food, and that's the only time out of the whole entire year that we eat those traditional foods. We used to celebrate a lot more traditional Vietnamese holidays, but our main thing is the Lunar New Year, and that celebration goes for at least three days straight. We have a tradition of “lucky money,” where you hand out little red envelopes full of money to wish your elders (grandma, grandpa, mom, dad) healthy wishes. The Vietnamese community in Fargo-Moorhead is very tight knit, so I know everybody and they know everybody, too. It's a pretty tight-knit community.
I learned to cook from my mom. She was one of the main inspirations for opening my catering business. I didn't realize until college or maybe even after that culture is just so important to me. Growing up, I hated my culture. I asked myself, "Why can't I just be blond with blue eyes and eat normal stuff?" I was made fun of for the foods my parents would pack for me in my lunch, like fried rice and steak or rice and steak. Now I sit back and I feel so bad because I was so angry at my parents. I just wanted to fit in.
Another reason I started my business is to cook authentic Vietnamese food. A lot of Vietnamese restaurants have dumbed down their recipes to cater to white Americans who can't handle the spices or flavor. My business model is authentic Vietnamese food - I cook for you just like I do for my family. I will never serve something that isn't actually what it's supposed to taste like. Outside of my family’s cooking, Fargo-Moorhead also offers Vietnamese restaurants like Pho D'licious and Le’s Banh Mi.
Once I got to college, I was actually the president of the Vietnamese Student Association for a few years and tried to bring the culture back because I felt that with my generation, it was getting lost. Not a lot of people wanted to speak Vietnamese. Not a lot of people wanted to eat the food. Now it is different - people want to eat the food and experience it. I tried to bring that forward and teach the younger Vietnamese American students to really embrace their culture and to speak the language.
I would say that it is hard to keep my identity as a Vietnamese person in the United States, 100%. I grew up in a predominantly white Caucasian town, and I am grateful that they never really treated me too differently. I was privileged in that area. Now that I look back at it, though, I wonder why my friends never asked me more questions about my culture and showed that interest. Ultimately, the last year of college, and then after graduating, I made the decision to be like, "Why am I so ashamed? It's a beautiful culture." I need to bring it forward, move it forward. Now I'm more forward with it, and present it more as, “Hi, I'm Kristy. I'm Vietnamese American. I'm Asian American, and I'm very proud of it.”
There's so much diversity here in America, and there's so many different types of people. You can't really define who is “American” by the way a person looks. You can’t make assumptions because all of a sudden you might find out that someone was born in a different country.
I wish native-born Americans wanted to educate themselves and learn why other people do things the way they do. I wish they had more patience and put themselves in the immigrant's shoes. My parents struggled a lot with fitting in. The perspective people hold of thinking immigrants are lower-life than people who are already in America is very harmful. I just hope and wish to see people who cross paths with immigrants be more open minded and give them more grace.
I want everybody and anybody to learn and grow.