Oct. 7, 2006
 
COMMENTARY: My Hmong People; Thanks for Telling Their Story
 
By Mee Moua
Special to Huntington News Network
 
Being born and raised in America, I have never stepped foot onto the soil that my parents were born in. I am lucky to be in America and to have my own two children, aged 3 and 6 years, live here where there is food, clean air, clean water and clothing on their backs.
 
My father, Cha Pao Moua (1941 - 2001), born in Laos, fought in the Vietnam War with the CIA at age 14 and was promised asylum here in the States after the war was over had come to the United States in hopes of giving his children a better life than he had when he was in Laos.
 
Even after all these years living in America my dad would have nightmares about the war. He would tell us stories about how the Hmong people were being murdered, raped and tortured. In his spare time, he would draw maps of Laos and mark areas where Communists were and where he had been. I even helped him draw and label the map as he did not know very much English. He would write down memories he had of mass murders, how they hid in the jungle to avoid being seen, witnessing my mom's brothers head being blown off and not being able to carry the body back because that would just delay their trip and how they just left my uncles body in the jungle without a proper burial.
 
I believe – I know – that my father was a strong person to endure so much at a young age. Personally for me, I would not. My father spoke of his stories until he passed away in 2001. During his short life here, he tried to get the Americans to acknowledge us Hmong people as the Hmong's who helped the Americans fight in the Vietnam War and not just immigrants who came here to feed off of welfare and public assistance.
 
We earned our right to be here, and yet many other Hmongs are still in Laos and Thailand running for their lives to this day hiding from the Communists and trying their best to survive and save their families.
 
I am 26 years old, born just one year after my parents arrived in America and it has been 27 years and this bull crap is still going on disgusts me. We have the power to help anyone and everyone but yet my relatives, my Hmong people are still in a country where they fear for their lives 24 hours a day, 7 days a week.
 
For the first time in my life my children and I finally met my uncle, my mother’s oldest brother, a few months ago. The meeting was painful but everyone was so glad to have met him. The only one who remembered my uncle was my mother and my oldest brother (who is in the late 30's early 40's). My uncle spoke of my dad: however my uncle’s trip was 5 years too late. He did not get the chance to see my father one last time; the only thing he saw was my father’s grave stone.
 
My uncle also spoke of my brothers when they were little, too young to remember him. We were full of tears when he told us stories and it is sad to see that my uncle has to go back to a country where it is not safe. But at least I was able to meet one of my uncles. My grandmother (my mom’s mom) is too old to visit and I don’t have the resources to visit her. My mom has gone a few times there and has said that my grandmother is really old and weak. She cannot walk anymore, she needs assistance. I have never even heard my grandmother’s voice, not once. I have only seen pictures.
 
Before my dad passed, I had wanted for my dad to be acknowledged of his duty in the Vietnam War by the Americans, by the President, by the Governor but with little resources I failed. When he passed away, we had a traditional Hmong ceremony and I was disappointed that even though he did have a flag on his casket, and had several gunmen come to his funeral for the burial, that I did not see anyone significant there to acknowledge what my father did for the country.
 
At least someone is out there letting the real world know that we, Hmong people, are just not here for public assistance but that we did help fight the Vietnam War and many of my people died in the process and that as of right now, my Hmong people in their country are crying for the Americans to help them. If that day comes that they do acknowledge the Hmong people for helping the Americans fight the Vietnam War, I know that my father would be proud.
 
Editor’s Note: This commentary was prompted by the continuing series of stories HNN has published on the Hmong crisis in Southeast Asia.