By Van Anh Tran
The first time Van Anh’s mother held her, 1991.
My mother wanted more. In the spring of 1975, she had a loving husband and three children. But, they were living in a war-torn country, a shattered existence, with an uncertain future.
My mother wanted more. She decided she would get out, but had no idea how she would do it. Her husband had heard the stories of the “boat people.” He knew the risk and did not want to flee to a foreign land with no guarantee of survival. He wanted to survive… even if it meant to stay in a battle-scarred country with unclear prospects.
My mother wanted more. She wanted to really live and thrive. So, she planned – for a brighter future – without her husband’s knowledge. She was careful when inquiring about life outside of Vietnam. She had secret meetings with neighbors: cautious exchanges in the marketplace and clandestine conversations in the kitchen while their husbands were in the living room. My mother was sure that someone she knew must have escaped the country after the war. So, she asked everyone if they knew anyone on the outside.
Five years after the end of the war, her husband and children had slowly adjusted. On the surface, my mother, too, had accepted the situation. But, she was merely existing. And she hated it! She could no longer bear to sleep in the same bed as her husband, yet there was no place else to sleep.
My mother’s incessant questioning eventually reaped the phone number of a childhood friend who had made it to the United States. After spending several years in a re-education camp, this man managed to escape and was starting a new life in America. The mere thought of the word – America – sent shivers down my mother’s spine. She was determined to get there: America, the land of freedom.
Her palms were sweaty as she revealed herself and heard a gasp on the other end of the phone. “How are you doing?” he had asked. “Save me,” she whispered. “I need to…my children need to… get out of here. Save me. I know you can. Sponsor me. Sponsor us.”
My mother soon brought her three children to America. Not long after, she and the man who sponsored them to the States conceived a child. And, I was born.
My mother wanted more. She did not come to America to have a family. She came to America to thrive and have a better life. She did not feel that she could do so with more chains to hold her down. So, it was my father who raised me.
Until recently, I had purposely not wanted to know my mother’s story. I felt she didn’t care about me or anyone else as much as she cared about herself. As I reflect more about her life and her motivations, however, I realize that I had rashly dismissed her. She had simply wanted more after all. She was not afraid to want more. I too can be strong, independent, and not afraid of wanting more.
About the Author: Van Anh Tran is a History Teacher at Summit Public Schools: Rainier. Van Anh graduated from Stanford University with a BA in History and an MA in Education. She is originally from Garden Grove, CA and now lives in San Jose, CA. Van Anh was involved with the Asian American and the activist communities at Stanford and plans to incorporate the lessons that she has learned into a career in education and policy. After working with inspiring community organizations in CA, Van Anh hopes to encourage her students to become involved in their communities and to take action!
