A Piece of Me to You
A Piece of Me to You is a tribute to my loving parents; Nhia Her and Maylee Her.
Several weeks from now I will be graduating from University of Minnesota Duluth, closing a very prominent chapter in my life. As the year comes close to an end it’s impossible not to reflect on all the lessons and experiences I’ve learned throughout my time here in Duluth. Being away from home and experiencing the goods and bads of life has opened my eyes to see that to have the opportunities I had, my parents sacrificed a lot of themselves to me. It’s not just the support they have provided me throughout my years here in Duluth, or the freedom of becoming someone I am proud to be, It’s how resilient they have been as individuals.
Both my parents fled from a worn torn country to the United States at a very young age. They had to learn a completely new language and instill themselves into a system that wasn’t built for them. From there on they pushed through the struggles and obstacles life would continue to hurdle at them, bringing me exactly where I am now.
I could never be the artist I am today, as their experiences in life have provided me different perspectives along with confidence in my own voice, and ability to tell stories through a lens. Here is A Piece of Me to You.
My Dad is Hmong and my Mom is half Laotian and half Hmong. They come from a small village called Phukamhoua. The village was shrouded among trees and tall grasses on the hills of the Sekong province in Laos. They didn't have much as most people were poor in Sekong. Their housing was made from the surrounding vegetation, living in bamboo-like houses with straw roofs over their heads, and had ground-dirt flooring where they would eat and sleep.
They would play made up games with other kids in the village or with their siblings. My Dad remembers trapping birds or hunting for insects in the rice field farms where the elders would work. They would also go swim in the nearby river, balancing on logs downstream. For a moment in their early lives they were able to enjoy it as kids should but things changed quickly for them once the Vietnam war ended in 1975.
After the Vietnam war had ended and american troops had already pulled out of Vietnam, The National Liberation Front of Southern Vietnam or commonly known as The Viet Cong began invading villages like the one my parents were living in. They would kill anyone who was affiliated with being a soldier or helping hand to the american troops and burn their villages down. The Viet Cong instilled fear into the Hmong people during this time. As a child my Dad remembers being awoken in the middle of the night to escape into the jungle from the soldiers. They would trek through the thick jungles for so long that my Dad would forget what the sky would look like.
Eventually both my parents were able to get out of Laos and cross into Thailand where they were put into Refugee camps. My parents had no context of the situation they were in other than being told to remember the number they were assigned in case someone from the states was able to sponsor them and their families. At the time my parents knew nothing about America, nor did the elders. All they knew about America was that it was the land of the giants. Their only source of information was from the radio or cassette tapes.
Around the late 70’s both my parents were able to migrate to the United States. Once in the United States they began to learn and adapt to a completely new life. As they grew older, year after year they began to take on the American culture but never forgetting where they came from and what they did to get there.
Both my parents attended Crown College where they met and fell in love. My Mom has now been a kindergarten teacher for the last 25+ years of her life and my father has created three albums which he has performed in front of hundreds. My parents will always be superheroes in my eyes. No matter where I am in life they will always be the reason why I chase my dreams.