Hi Everyone,
I had almost forgotten that I was a Vietnamese refugee in 1989. In the process of writing about myself for this blog, my memories flooded back to me vividly, as if it had just happened yesterday. The unforgettable event that shaped and changed my life forever was the night I left my country in 1986. Since my father had worked for the US government before 1975, after the communists took over South Vietnam, he was imprisoned for 10 years in the North, and our property was confiscated. My mother struggled to feed my six brothers and sisters, and on top of that, we were bullied because of my father’s work with the US government. Right after dinner, my mom secretly told me that I needed to escape the country to save our family in the future. I didn’t have much time to understand anything, and I didn’t even know why my mother picked me and not my two older brothers. I guess she probably needed them to stay and take care of her and the rest of the family.
The first escape in 1986 was unsuccessful; I got caught while swimming to the small boat. As a result, I was put in jail for one year. I was 19 years old at that time and just a college student. The experience was traumatic. I still can’t fully comprehend how I survived that year in jail. After I was released, everyone treated me like I was a criminal. I was afraid to go outside and meet people, and I felt isolated and ashamed for no reason. The trauma stayed with me, making it difficult to connect with others. Two years after the first escape, in 1988, I tried to flee the country again. This time, luckily, I made it to the small boat. The following ten days tested my physical and mental resilience. The small boat didn’t carry enough water or food for the long journey, so I was very hungry and thirsty. However, I knew so well by that time that there was no going back. Either I would make it, or die somewhere in the darkness of the Pacific Ocean.
Thank God! We finally arrived at a small island in the Philippines and were transferred to a Vietnamese Refugee Camp shortly after that. Two years in the refugee camp were a turning point in my life. I met so many people—some of them arrived without their children or husbands and wives. Some were young women who had been raped repeatedly by Thai pirates and later committed suicide in the hospital. I could not understand why the world was so cruel to them, and what they had done to deserve that. Feeling helpless, I volunteered to work in the hospital so I could take care of my people. I did everything I could, from changing beds and feeding injured patients to acting as an interpreter. Even though we had never met before, we somehow felt like family. We needed to take care of each other and survive while waiting for our chance to be interviewed and accepted by a third country.
My chance finally came when I was sponsored by an American Catholic Church. I arrived in San Diego in 1991. As soon as I stepped off the airplane, I felt like I had entered heaven. However, I soon realized that a big challenge awaited me. It didn’t take long before I found out that the welfare money I received could only afford me a converted garage studio. The Persian Gulf War made it harder to find a job, even as a gas station attendant. In the meantime, my family was waiting for me to send money back to help them since I had left. Unfortunately, there were no job opportunities for me in San Diego, so I decided to leave for Boston in 1992.
Finding a job in Boston was my first priority. I still remember working two jobs while going to school at night. I got up at 5 a.m. to go to work and attended school at night, not coming back home until 11 p.m. Sometimes, sitting alone on the last subway train at night, I almost gave up on the idea of finishing my schooling and let my life drift. But for some reason, I believed that God put me through this so that I could learn and understand that the price of success is perseverance. Time will pass, and you will see the light at the end of the tunnel. Many nights, exhausted both physically and emotionally, I asked myself, “Is this the American Dream people are talking about?” However, when I thought about my family and what they had been through, I remembered they could go to bed hungry that night, and that made me forget my own exhaustion and the idea of giving up. I needed to work so I could send money back to feed them, which I did. After five years, I became a U.S. citizen in 2001, and I was finally able to bring my mother and younger brother here to reunite with me. I have been much happier since they arrived. Things have only gotten better. I finally finished my bachelor’s degree and found a job in a hospital that I love. Now I truly understand the American Dream.
Writing about myself for this blog has helped me learn more about who I am and reminded me of my strengths and weaknesses, as well as what I value most. I’ve also realized that we are all human. We must face struggles in life. Although each of us has taken a different journey, in the end, we come to know who we truly are and what has shaped our unique characters.
Thank you for reading. Have a great day, and be kind to one another!
Hoang Nguyen
HOANG NGUYEN, BS, CCS, CCS-P, CIRCC, CCVTC
