Hi everyone,
For many years, I almost forgot that I came to the United States as a Vietnamese refugee in 1989. While writing about myself for this website, those memories suddenly came back vividly, as if they had happened only yesterday.
The event that changed my life forever was the night I left my country in 1986. Before 1975, my father had worked for the U.S. government. After the communists took over South Vietnam, he was imprisoned in the North for ten years, and our family property was confiscated. My mother struggled to raise and feed six children. On top of that, we were often bullied because of my father’s connection to the U.S. government.
One evening after dinner, my mother quietly told me that I had to escape the country so that one day I could help our family. I did not have time to fully understand what was happening, and I did not even know why she chose me instead of my two older brothers. I believe she needed them to stay behind to take care of her and the rest of the family.
My first escape attempt in 1986 failed. I was caught while swimming toward the small boat and was imprisoned for one year. At that time, I was only nineteen years old and a college student. The experience was traumatic. Even today, I still do not fully understand how I survived that year in jail. After I was released, people treated me like a criminal. I was afraid to go outside and meet others, and I felt isolated and ashamed for no reason. The trauma stayed with me and made it difficult for me to connect with people.
Two years later, in 1988, I tried to escape again. This time, I made it onto the small boat. The next ten days tested both my physical and mental strength. The boat carried very little water and food, and the journey was long. I was extremely hungry and thirsty. But by that point, I knew there was no turning back. Either I would survive the journey, or I would die somewhere in the darkness of the ocean.
By God’s grace, we finally reached a small island in the Philippines and were later transferred to a Vietnamese refugee camp. I spent two years there, and that time became a turning point in my life.
In the refugee camp, I met many people who had suffered unimaginable hardship. Some had arrived without their husbands, wives, or children. Some young women had been attacked by Thai pirates during their journey and later took their own lives in the hospital. I struggled to understand why the world could be so cruel.
Feeling helpless, I decided to volunteer in the hospital. I helped in any way I could, from changing beds and feeding injured patients to serving as an interpreter. Even though many of us had never met before, we felt like family. We depended on one another while waiting for the opportunity to be interviewed and accepted by another country.
My opportunity finally came when an American Catholic church sponsored me. I arrived in San Diego in 1991. When I stepped off the airplane, I felt as if I had entered heaven. But I quickly realized that a new set of challenges was waiting for me.
The welfare assistance I received could only afford a small converted garage to live in. At that time, the Persian Gulf War made it difficult to find work, even as a gas station attendant. Meanwhile, my family back home depended on me to send money to help them survive.
Since I could not find stable work in San Diego, I decided to move to Boston in 1992.
Finding a job in Boston became my first priority. I worked two jobs while attending school at night. I woke up at five in the morning to go to work and often did not return home until eleven at night after classes.
Many nights I sat alone on the last subway train, exhausted and questioning whether I could finish my education. Sometimes I almost gave up and allowed life to drift wherever it would take me. But deep inside, I believed that God had placed me on this path for a reason. I came to understand that perseverance is the true price of success. Time passes, and eventually you begin to see light at the end of the tunnel.
During those difficult years, I often asked myself whether this was really the American Dream people talked about. But whenever I thought about my family and the hardships they were facing back home, I found the strength to keep going. I continued working so that I could send money to help feed them.
Years later, I became a United States citizen. Eventually, I was able to bring my mother and younger brother to reunite with me. That moment brought great happiness to my life. Since then, things have continued to improve. I completed my bachelor’s degree and found a career in hospital medical coding that I truly enjoy.
Now, when I look back, I finally understand what the American Dream means.
Writing this story has reminded me of who I am, where I came from, and the values that continue to guide my life. We all face struggles, and each person’s journey is different. But through those experiences, we discover our strength and the character that defines us.
Thank you for reading.
Have a wonderful day, and please be kind to one another.
Hoang Nguyen
BS, CCS, CCS P, CIRCC, CCVTC
