Boot camp, epiphanies, and bun bo hue

Posted on April 27, 2012 by Viola Van

I recently completed the rewarding task of transcribing an interview conducted by the Vietnamese American Heritage Foundation. Much like the Vietnamese American Oral History project here at UCI, the VAHF is dedicated to preserving, understanding, and celebrating Vietnamese Americans’ heritage through oral histories, but is nationwide whereas the VAOHP focuses solely on Vietnamese Americans in Southern California.

From the moment I started watching the video of Tiffany Le’s interview, I was intrigued by her calmness and her anecdotal answers to Roger Le’s questions. Having conducted an interview with my father before, I sort of understood the ropes of an oral history. Yet transcribing this interview was a whole new experience, as instead of physically conducting the interview, I was an outsider, someone looking into Tiffany Le’s open book.

Tiffany served in the United States Marine Corps for 6 years, and in the interview she recounts the life-changing, life-rewarding, and essentially opportunistic experiences of her 3 month recruit boot camp in Parris Island, South Carolina. Although at first she was hesitant to enlist, her past high school delinquency and search for a purpose in life and improvement behooved her to become one of the only female Vietnamese-American marines. Growing up in Riverside, CA, Tiffany vividly remembered how she experienced complete culture shock upon arriving at boot camp, and compares the trek from California to South Carolina as the first time she was really exposed to people from a huge variety of backgrounds.

Narrator, Tiffany Le

As I continued to watch the interview, I honestly felt like I knew Tiffany. Throughout the interview she brought different thoughts and experiences to the table, exposing her life in a detailed nutshell. In fact, the moment that stood out to me the most was when Tiffany describes how she missed her mom’s bun bo hue and home, how she felt regret for joining the marines, and how because of these emotions, she realized she had a deep appreciation for the things she had in life.

During boot camp, Tiffany came to an epiphany…

“So that’s when I realized… that’s when I realized what kind of hell a first generation, Vietnamese American child had put my mother through. That’s when I understood the hardships my mom had, and why it was hard for me to accept my delinquency. But I’m glad I went through boot camp because without it, I don’t think I would be able to appreciate the small things, the freedoms that we have here. I don’t think I could appreciate just how lucky I am to be able to actually have, to be afforded the opportunity of being a Marine, and the doors it has opened for me. I mean, I always tell people I joined it because it was really cool for a Vietnamese girl to join, but I really appreciate the opportunity.”

Overall, Tiffany’s inspirational journey throughout boot camp, her withstanding determination to not give up, and her success today as a Nguoi Viet journalist captures her experiences as a first generation Vietnamese-American. I was shocked when listening to some of her boot camp stories, became emotional when she described her regrets growing up, applauded when she graduated from boot camp with her mother and brother watching, and have been inspired by her motivations to make a turn-around in her life. Her story is just one of the many young Vietnamese-Americans here, and with it brings a great preservation and celebration of Vietnamese American history.

- Stephanie Wong

The Vietnamese American Oral History Project (VAOHP) at UC Irvine is pleased to collaborate with the Vietnamese American Heritage Foundation in the important work of processing the interviews collected in Southern California by this non-profit organization. We share the similar goal of preserving and making widely available the stories of Vietnamese Americans. This blog post shows the fruits of such collaboration and we hope readers will visit our digital repository through UCI Space once the interviews are put up in their entirety.

Understanding our parents’ stories and trauma

Posted on April 22, 2012 by Viola Van

This past February, I didn’t think I would have anyone to interview for the Vietnamese American Oral History Project. I had realized that if I asked my aunt to narrate her life story, I’d spend months past the deadline trying to transcribe the interview because she spoke Vietnamese and I didn’t. But while cleaning out my wallet, I stumbled upon a business card for Bao Nguyen, Vice President of the Garden Grove Unified School District Board of Education, and I realized that he was the same Bao Nguyen that spoke in a 2004 documentary about Little Saigon, Saigon, USA, which I watched in my Vietnamese American Experience class a week earlier. I had met him when he visited the Asian Pacific Student Association (APSA) at UC Irvine during one of our general meetings in January, having been the Advocacy Chair of APSA himself in the early 2000s. I wasn’t sure if he’d have enough time to set aside for an interview, but when I contacted him, he turned out to be very excited to work with me.]

I met him at his home in the early noon on Presidents Day. We sat at his dining room table to conduct the interview, and I noticed that behind him on the wall hung an American flag, next to which stood a shelf lined with books ranging from Toni Morrison novels to readings on religion. We went over some paperwork and then finally started what would turn out to be a two-hour interview.

Narrator, Bao Nguyen

We related on a lot of different topics. As APSA’s Advocacy Intern, I admired the work he did as APSA’s Advocacy Chair when he went to UCI. He drew from his own experiences as a Vietnamese refugee to fuel the passion for his activism. This was apparent, for example, when he organized with other student to attend a rally in Little Saigon for John McCain, who was running for the Republican presidential nomination in the 2000 elections. They sought to protest his unapologetic use of the racial slur “gook” during his campaign and to educate others on why the word was inappropriate. Bao said in his interview,

As Asian Americans and Vietnamese American young people, we understand the trauma very directly because those people that suffered trauma are very much our parents. So, we weren’t there to say, “John McCain…your experiences being tortured are not legitimate.” We weren’t there to say that…In fact, we experienced that very indirectly through our parents…We were there because as Vietnamese Americans and as young people growing up inAmerica, we’ve been attacked with those racial slurs. We’ve been called gooks. We’ve been called chinks and whatnot.

McCain’s Vietnamese supporters, however, did not receive the protest very well. “No, ‘gook’ means communist!” one of them shouted to Bao and his friends, who were subsequently attacked and pushed off onto the street. It was an emotional experience for Bao, especially considering that those who threatened him and his friends had the “faces of our parents and our grandparents.” The Republican Party, with their strong anti-communist rhetoric, had gained the trust of many Vietnamese refugees shortly after they arrived in the States, so not supporting a Republican candidate, I believe, could be equated with supporting communism. Bao told me that one of the most valuable lessons he learned from the experience was that “we really have to be sensitive towards everyone’s experience, especially if it’s a traumatic experience.”

The story of Bao’s protest at the McCain rally resonated with me deeply. The lesson he learned from the protest made me reflect back on my own parents, their trauma being Vietnamese refugees, my insensitivity toward their experiences when I was a teenage high school rebel, and my sensitivity toward them now, which continues to grow today as I further understand my own history and identity and how they can shape the activism work that I do. As the son of refugee parents, I hope to find such an understanding weaved within the stories of the community and the Vietnamese American Oral History Project, and I hope that any future generations can do the same.

- Brian Dinh

UCI student feels an even greater connection to her father after interview process

Posted on April 19, 2012 by Viola Van

Before taking last quarter’s class on Vietnamese American Experience, my understanding of Vietnamese American history was limited to the anecdotes shared by my family, visits to Little Saigon, and history taught in school. By conducting an oral history project on my father and engaging in thoughtful conversations with classmates throughout class, I was able to see a common thread amongst Vietnamese Americans – they never forget their homeland, but have built a life in America.

Narrator, Stephanie Wong's father

The same goes for my father. Although he was the first person that came to mind for my project, he objected at first. He has always been an open book, but I think he just didn’t want to be interviewed. After explaining to him that I wanted to preserve his history and share his story, he agreed. I didn’t really know what to expect from the oral history project, or how the interview was going to play out. If you should listen to the first minutes of the interview audio file, you might be able to tell that I’m hesitant and nervous at points. It gets better after though.

As the interview with my dad continued, I lost track of time. I became engaged in my father’s story; although I had heard bits and pieces before, I never was presented with a formal outline of his life. I was in awe of the struggles he encountered during the Vietnam War, his withstanding strength as he left his homeland, and the fact that he has been able to call America his home today. The interview lasted two hours, and although I bet it could have lasted for hours more, it was about 11:00pm when we ended.

Narrator, Stephanie Wong's father

The transcription process was probably the longest task aside from the interview, but it was my favorite. Playing back my father’s interview gave me an opportunity to really listen to my father’s reminisces. I was really proud of the interview, because I felt that my dad really opened up. I’ve always been close to my dad, but I felt a greater connection to him because I now knew more about his childhood and about his life in great detail. After all the proper documents were finished and edited, I decided to create a short video presentation to share with the class. Although I could have opted out for a less time-consuming presentation such as PowerPoint or a collage, I wanted to create a video because I wanted my peers to see my father’s interview visually. I planned to give my dad the video, but he didn’t want to see it because he said it was embarrassing. He still hasn’t seen it yet, and it’s been more than 4 weeks since I presented the video, but I plan on asking him to watch it soon!

- Stephanie Wong

“Bò Bía” = My Dad, and his Journey to Freedom

Posted on April 17, 2012 by Viola Van

“BUB! Guess what?! You are going to help me get an A in my Vietnamese American Experience class this quarter!” That was exactly what I exclaimed to my dad when he came to pick me up from a long first week of winter quarter. It was only the first meeting of class, but I knew I had found my place. I knew I had found exactly what I had been looking for and what I had been longing. I had found it in Professor Vo Dang’s Soc Sci 178D Vietnamese American Experience class. It was obvious who I wanted my narrator to be for my oral history project – and that was my dad.

Growing up, my dad had always told us never to waste food because he knew exactly what it was like not having anything to eat. He told us to always try our best and to seize every opportunity that came our way. He told us that we could do anything we put our heart and mind to. My siblings and I always heard snippets of his life and what it was like growing up during the Vietnam War. It was not until taking Professor Vo Dang’s class was I able to really sit down with my dad and get the low-down of what happened to him during his escape.

Narrator, Hugo Van

My dad is very much a storyteller and every chance he gets, he will gladly sit down and talk about life, work, anything! However, when it came down to the actual project interview, he seemed a little apprehensive when I prepared the actual voice recorder and all the paperwork. He must have been intimidated by the professionalism of the equipment, along with paperwork I pulled out of my manila folder.

Once I pressed the red button on the recorder, everything started to flow. There were many laughs, many giggles, and also many moments of silence. The topics were heavy and I could tell from my dad’s body language that even though he was excited to really tell me his story, at the same time, it really seemed like he wanted to shield me (and my siblings) from the experiences he had gone through during his journey to freedom. We started of laughing with silly basic questions, and he was sitting up very proudly and speaking right into the voice recorder, but once we started to talk about post April 1975, I noticed that he was slumped in his chair at the dinner table and closing his eyes once in awhile to speak. This was when I had to physically move the voice recorder closer to him because his voice had lowered and quieted down since the hour before when we had started.

When he had felt that he had told me enough, it was perfect timing because our interview was over! I had a sense of proudness come over me because looking right at me was my own dad. He chased his own dream and his own freedom. I feel very proud to be his daughter and knowing that he had gone through so much to escape the perils of his country to provide a better future for his future children, it only motivates me more to work hard to achieve my own dreams. My dad always reminds my siblings and I that “hard work and dedication will get you places – ultimately, these two variables are the keys to success!” I live and breathe by this. The war was only the beginning, the real turmoil and hardship came after the war. However, all the refugees that made it, made it. Each and every one of them will have their own unique story. I am very fortunate enough to have a dad who wants his story to be known through his children and through future generations. Through the VAOHP, I was able to have my dad reveal the nitty gritty and these very experiences are the ones that made my dad who he is today. He is my “bò bía” (in Vietnamese, it essentially means “eggroll” – this is what my siblings and I have called him ever since we can remember), my bub, my dad, and my hero.

Hugo Van (center) with his family

- Viola Van

My Dad: A Story of Strength and Survival

Posted on April 11, 2012 by Thuy Vo Dang

When Professor Vo-Dang announced in class that we were going to do an oral history project, I immediately whispered to a classmate “My Dad”. Having my father as the narrator was an obvious decision. As a child my father would tell me stories of his childhood when I sat in his lap and rested my head on his once plump belly. His detailed account of surviving and eventual escape from Vietnam was perfect for a project like this.

The actual process of conducting the interview was somewhat difficult and a little raw in my opinion. Usually when he regales me about the stories of home it was so effortless and vivid, it was as if these stories happened only a few months ago. But with the recorder between us and a pen and notebook in my lap, my father’s stories became stagnant and one dimensional. I don’t know if he was just nervous to the idea that he was going on the record about his past or that my interviewing skills were less than par, either way the first half hour was forced on his part and awkward on mine.

As in the interview wore on my father became more accustomed to the process and didn’t seem to mind the recorder as much. Unfortunately, I was still stumbling my way through the pre-written questions desperately trying to sound professional. Speaking coherently and concise was not something I could easily do, at least when I’m writing I can have long pauses and re-edit my thoughts. After poking and prodding my father’s memories for a good hour or so, I stopped recording and thanked him for being such and awesome daddy. He then asked me if he could make a final statement, I was pleasantly surprised and more than willing to oblige.

My father’s closing statement was by far the most insightful thing I’ve ever heard him say. To be honest I didn’t think he had it in him. Seeing his hands glide in the air as if illustrating his timeline and his head bobbing with the rhythm and intonations of his voice took me step back and see the person sitting in front of me as more than just my loving father, but a man that endured so much and still has the strength to carry on.

Pham Tri Duc

Sure, the interview brought forth the suffering and tragedies of war, but that wasn’t what I was looking for. Don’t get me wrong I’m not trying to marginalize the Vietnam War, but conducting the interview especially with my father made me understand the aftermath. My father deals with issues of identity, something I never knew until the project. During the in-class presentation of narrators by classmates I realized that the VAOHP sought to peel away the faces of war torn refugees and reveal thriving and enduring individuals.

~Michelle Pham

UCI student reflects on interview with his mother

Posted on April 9, 2012 by Thuy Vo Dang

Narrato, Hue Minh Truong

The Vietnamese American Oral History Project at UC Irvine has had a
tremendous impact on my growth as a scholar and as an individual.
Throughout this project I have learned a lot and have gained a better
perspective on the experiences of many Vietnamese immigrants and refugees.
My experience conducting my interview for the project was also very
insightful and humbling experience. I conducted my interview in my
hometown of San Diego and the narrator was my mother Hue Minh Truong. She
is currently fifty-four years old and is ethnically Chinese (Hakka). She
immigrated out of Vietnam and to the United States in nineteen eighty-five
and was the first person in her family to immigrate over to the United
States. She first came to San Francisco when she arrived in the United
States and had to work relentlessly in multiple jobs in order to provide
for herself and sponsor the rest of her family. She then moved to several
different regions within California and finally settled down in San Diego
after the rest of her family was sponsored over to the United States. She
has eight other siblings including three brothers and five sisters. She is
the second oldest child and she is the oldest daughter. During the
interview process I learned more about her four-day journey across the
Pacific, her stories in the refugee camps of Indonesia and Singapore, and
her assimilation process enduring discrimination and unequal opportunities
as well as her successes in adapting to U.S. culture and attaining
citizenship. My mother was interesting to conduct my Oral History Project
upon because my mother has suffered so much throughout her life. She had
to work hard in order to provide for her family and still does. She also
had to endure the passing of her husband in two thousand and five, and she
had to raise my older brother, my cousin, and myself. I’ve learned a lot
from my mother and from the Vietnamese American Oral History Project. I am
glad to be taking part in the creation and preservation of conscious
history.

Hue Minh Truong and son, Howard Diep

~Howard Diep

Vietnamese American Oral History Project

Stories of Vietnamese Americans in Southern California

Monthly Archives: April 2012