Disclaimer

Disclaimer: The views and opinions expressed in the blog posts are those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views or opinions of Hnub Tshiab: Hmong Women Achieving Together.

Monday, June 27, 2011

Wrong for Being Right

Have you ever been in a situation where you were right but you were wrong for being right? 
My husband and I had family over so we took them to a well known Hmong buffet.  The restaurant was scarcely populated which translated to scarce tins of food in the buffet trays.  After our first pass at the buffet I did as any American consumer would at any retail establishment, I approached the hostess and firmly expressed my disappointment at the quality of the food and the empty trays.  I let her know that should there be no new food brought out once our table finished their plates I would be expecting a discount.
The hostess must have relayed my message to management.  The wife of the owner waited for me to get up from the table and approached me as I escorted my children to their second round of food.  She did not apologize but said to me, “Mej txis txog saag les caag…” followed by all the reasons why there was no food.  I explained to her that I did “saag les caag” because I paid $107 for food and there was no food to be had.  Additionally, there didn’t seem to be any effort made to bring out more food.  She pressed her points with me and when I did not agree she became agitated and the conversation took a turn for the worse.  After what seemed like an eternity of banter I ended the conversation the best I could and walked away.    
I did not feel bad about what had happened nor did my husband’s family think I had stepped out of line.  They were actually very amused by the situation and we all had a really good laugh.  That is until the owner tried to make nice and started talking to my husband’s Uncle.  At the BBQ grill I heard them making a Hmong family connection and it turns out that the owner went to school with my father-in-law back in Laos.  I saw the way my husband’s uncle graciously agreed with all the reasons the owner gave him as to why there was no food.   My husband’s uncle did not offer his opinions.  
Even though my husband’s Uncle continued to laugh about the situation and assured me that he agreed with me, I could not help but secretly feel inside that I had done something wrong.  I was confused about what had happened and I thought about it all night. 
In America, if a product or service is not up to par, it is expected that customers provide feedback.  It is customary for retailers to give discounts when a wrong has occurred.  The customer is always right.  So what happened?  What happened was that I was at a Hmong establishment.  It didn’t matter that I was a paying patron.  I was to act as if I was having dinner at a Hmong family’s house and behave as I would as a guest in someone’s home.
I pride myself on my ability to wear different hats.  I know when to be a Hmong woman and when to be an American woman.  In my Hmong world, I do dishes, cook, house guests, serve drinks, eat last, not directly address men, not criticize my husband or talk back to him (at least in front of his family).  In my American world, I lead multi-billion global organizations, I speak up in meetings, take risks, challenge ideas, travel to see clients, meet with CEOs and CFOs, etc…I have been navigating in both cultures my entire life.  I know which hat to wear and when.  Or so I thought.
This experience showed me that the line between being a Hmong woman and an American woman is much blurry than it appears at first glance.   I am struggling with how to be true to myself in all situations and am finding that it seems doing so is becoming more and more difficult.  In this situation I acted accordingly to American values and feel that I did so rightfully.  Why should I hold American merchants to one standard and Hmong merchants to another?  My complaint brought about better service and fresh food.  Objective achieved.
That said I am quite certain that the first time I hear Hmong people whisper negatives things about how I behaved at this restaurant, I will feel ashamed and sad at the dishonor I have brought my husband’s family.  The judgment of my character will surely hurt my feelings.  Why?  Because as a Hmong woman we are expected to be agreeable, accept any injustice and do so with a smile.  If and when you do speak up, you are wrong even when you are right.

Tuesday, June 21, 2011

Together, We Can Achieve More

Why it is that others think it is contradictory to be in a strong marriage with a Hmong man and to be a feminist? Perhaps it is because we are limited in our thinking as a community.

The act of Hmong women across different clans giving each other support and friendship can be seen as threatening by some. I talk regularly to Hmong women are discouraged from joining in the work to improve the lives of Hmong women. I’ve been a part of Hnub Tshiab for 15 years, and ultimately, there is a woman who can’t join us even for a simple event or activity because her husband won’t allow it. Without even knowing about us, there is already prejudice. The sentiment is usually as follows: if it is an organization founded by Hmong women, we must be up to no good. There must be something shady or awful that happens there. I have been told by others that an educated Hmong wife will cheat on her husband or run away, and that a Hmong woman who is not busy and pregnant is not a good woman. It saddens me that these beliefs will still be alive when my daughters grow up, chipping away at their personhood and sense of identity. Let’s look at the reality of the world we live in and truly see and understand that in societies where woman and girls are supported and uplifted, the entire community improves economically and socially.
As a family, we’ve worked hard to eliminate differences in how we treat our children according to gender and in how we treat each other. As partners in life, it can be hard to go against the cultural grain. For example, it is not easy for my husband to support me because of what others see as his lack of “manly behavior” by supporting his feminist wife. He’s been asked how it’s like to be married to me; more in sympathy than in support. Every now and then, a relative will insult me because of my work with Hnub Tshiab’s right there and in front of others. I know that I am not helpless. I have a mouth. I can speak up on my own behalf. However, it still matters culturally that my husband speaks up for me when I’m being put down by his relatives or mine. And to my delight, he does speak up. There’s nothing unmanly about that. And I know that each time he does, he commits an act of social change – going against the grain just a little bit so that I can become more of who I want to be as a human being and less of who others think I should be. My life is improved. I feel powerful. And, I wonder how I can help others get here in their marriages.
I guess, if I really think hard about it, we simply hold different beliefs from those stated above: that educated and successful Hmong women will lift us all up, that they will not run away or cheat on their husbands, and that just because we are working to improve the lives of our Hmong daughters doesn’t mean that we love our Hmong sons any less. It’s simple. See? No contradictions.
MayKao Y. Hang, President/CEO Amherst H. Wilder Foundation

Monday, June 13, 2011

An Epiphany

I joined Hnub Tshiab as a volunteer because I wanted to create a better world for my daughter, Summer and my niece, Lea. When I first heard about Hnub Tshiab’s mission, which is to be to be a catalyst for lasting cultural, institutional and social change to improve the lives of Hmong women, I thought, “How the heck are they going to do that? Good luck!” Nevertheless, I was touched by Sy Vang, a Keynote Speaker who talked about domestic abuse. I could relate to many of the things she talked about, including personal experiences. I had gotten married at the age of 14; I’ve had to pick up my aunt at a shelter and take her back home to an abusive husband; I’ve seen a few uncles take on second wives. Who had decided these things were acceptable? I had been looking for a place to volunteer to give back to the community, so I started volunteering and then became a Board member. In the process of giving my time and energy to this organization I met many strong, intelligent and loving Hmong women. I discovered that these women were fulfilling a need that I had long wanted. They were giving me the support and inspiration I needed to become a stronger person. I had found my sisterhood in these women who shared the same vision as me. I was transforming into the woman I always wanted to be: a proud, strong Hmong American woman.

While I was getting comfortable with my transformation, Hnub Tshiab held its first intergenerational retreat to pilot a program to help strengthen relationships among female clan members and friends. We invited our girlfriends, mothers, daughters, and nieces. I brought my mother, daughter, and sister. On the car ride to the retreat, I told my mother for the first time that I was involved with Hnub Tshiab. Not because I was afraid to before, but because I couldn’t tell her in the Hmong language what it means to “improve the lives of Hmong women”. The idea is a little radical. How do you share a dream that has never been tangible? At the retreat I told my mother, with the help of the other board members about a little project I am working on: trying to raise $50,000 this year and $3 million in the next couple of years to build the Hmong Women’s Center. The Hmong Women’s Center will be a place where we can gather and learn from each other. It will be a safe and fun place we can take our kids and learn how sew pa dau or haib kwg txia and celebrate Hmong women. 

 My mother is a hardworking and loving woman who has raised nine us of children with very little income. Even so, she always had money to buy me the thing I loved most: books. My mother always encouraged us to do well in school so we can get good jobs and not suffer. My mother, who had fed us these wonderful words of support and encouragement, was amazed by the type of work we were doing.  I think it took her the whole weekend to process that this little organization existed and could have such big dreams. I left the retreat satisfied with the time I had spent with my mother and the amazing women and girls I met. On the car ride home, my mother continued to ask me questions about the Hmong Women’s Center. I was surprised because she is usually not so inquisitive. I explained to her at one point we considered having a care taker for the home but that wasn’t going to happen anymore. My mother replied, “That’s fine. We will use the House and we will clean it up after ourselves”. Tears came to my eyes as I realized we had won my mother over. My mother’s use of the word “we” told me that she approved and supported what I was doing with Hnub Tshiab. 

I had an epiphany. The work we are doing isn’t just impacting our daughters and nieces or my peers and me. It is also impacting our mothers and grandmothers. It is giving them hope that their daughters and grand daughters will have better lives; will be respected; will be able to make their own decisions to steer their futures. 

By Mai Vang

Monday, June 6, 2011

Ua Siab Ntev

My name is Linda Vang Kim and I am on the Board for Hnub Tshiab: Hmong Women Achieving Together.  I would like to tell two stories that illustrate why the work of Hnub Tshiab is so important. Both stories involve my mother, someone who is a major influence in my life.

My mother is a strong woman, one who has persistently overcome obstacles in her life. She lost her own mother as a young girl and had to raise her younger siblings. She protested an arranged marriage but in the end obeyed her father because he told her, “You are just a woman, a daughter, and should not speak so openly. I am your father and I know what is best for you.” Despite their mutual dislike for each other, my parents had nine children and stayed married until they came to the United States in the late 1970’s. As the youngest, I was spared from witnessing the violence between my parents.  My older siblings, however, remember shielding my mother from my father’s threats to kill her, often with a kitchen knife in his hand.

My mother eventually decided to get a divorce – something that is discouraged in the Hmong community. Even worse, she filed for a legal divorce and was granted sole custody of the children. As a result, I lived without connections to my father’s clan and spent holidays and celebrations with my mother’s side of the family. During one particular Thanksgiving, my grandfather gave my aunts and uncles an opportunity to speak and give thanks. Each male spoke on behalf of his wife but unlike others, there was no man to speak up for my mother. So instead she gave thanks herself and I was impressed because she was the best speaker that day.

Now, the second story demonstrates how she reinforced culture in a way that tells me we still have a long way to go. You would think after everything she had been through, my mother would be progressive in all matters. But as a Hmong woman, she still operates within certain boundaries.  She must “ua siab ntev” which means to “have patience”.  This phrase irks me because I have heard it used to comfort women whose husbands are neglectful, unfaithful, and abusive. While it is meant to encourage, it actually makes the woman feel hopeless. It means the woman must submit to her husband and wait for him to change. Ua siab ntev does not empower nor does it allow positive change to occur. A wife must ua siab ntev and if she is not patient, she is blamed for the disintegration of the relationship. The husband may be reprimanded but he usually does not suffer any real consequences.

Imagine my disappointment when my mother used these very words to fix a situation between my brother and his wife. He admitted to his infidelity but showed little regret. To my sister in law, my mother said, “ua siab ntev” and insisted that he would change. He never did and was never held accountable so my sister in law filed for a divorce and moved back to be with her family. For several months after she left, my mom would comment that my sister in law had been the one who failed the marriage. She would say this to me any chance she got and to other people when they asked about the divorce. She was blind to his mistakes. I was annoyed that my mother, who did not ua siab ntev herself, prescribed the very thing to my sister in law. I suppose when one is within a culture, it is hard to see it in its entirety. A Hmong woman must endure, and ua siab ntev is often reinforced with great detriment to families.

With Hnub Tshiab, we do not tell women to just “ua siab ntev” or be patient. We equip them with the tools to take action to create positive social and cultural change. The mission of Hnub Tshiab is to be a catalyst for lasting cultural, institutional and social change to improve the lives of Hmong women. Personally, I want to squash the phrase ua siab ntev as a be-all end-all solution to marital and relationship problems. I also want to contribute to a society in which Hmong girls and women can stand up for themselves and others. This is why I support Hnub Tshiab’s work.

Wednesday, June 1, 2011

Small Act of Social Change

Can creating a Hmong women’s clan create social, cultural, and institutional change to support Hmong women leaders whose clans have forgotten them or written them off as not worthy of investment?
I say “forget” because forgetting the women in a clan is more about benign neglect than it is intentional exclusion. In my entire time during my undergraduate and graduate studies as a young woman, I received only one unsolicited gift. Those of you who are Hmong know what I am talking about - that random but thoughtful gift from a family or clan member where they silently shove cash into your hands as you are leaving for school, or a long trip. My one and only thoughtful gift was $20 and was from an aunt of mine who was on welfare. My aunt was orphaned at the age of five and lived her entire childhood with her brother and his wife. At the time, she had three small children – all under the age of six and was a new arrival to America.  She had lived a very hard life, and was so proud of me. She couldn’t have known what she was doing at the time by offering her support. She did not know that I would become the first person of color and woman President of the Amherst H. Wilder Foundation in St. Paul, or that I would  co-found a new movement to improve the lives of Hmong women by starting Hnub Tshiab: Hmong Women Achieving Together. 
Back then, I was just a smart but impoverished twenty-something on full scholarship to Brown University in Providence Rhode, Island. Her thoughtful gift changed my world and my perception of what could be when I graduated to improve the lives of Hmong women and girls. I was already a Women’s Peer Counselor at Brown University, and my life experiences had already taught me that I had to overcome many barriers if I were to succeed. Having finally made it to college, I was still excluded from participating in “enrichment” activities on campus because I had no discretionary money to take advantage of the experiences there. I had to forgo movies, staying on the meal plan (it was still expensive), and flying home for vacations. Anything I did, I had to raise money on my own to do. I worked three part-time jobs at one point so that I could fly back to Minnesota to see my family over the holidays. I had to compete against some of the best minds in America to pursue my dreams for study and scholarship.
Through it all, I had the love of my parents, and this one aunt who thought I was worthy and mailed me a crisp $20 dollar bill to my mailbox at Brown University. I wept when I saw the cash in the envelope. I felt cherished. I felt worthy. I felt loved. For a long time, I just held it in my hands. I could not believe that this woman on welfare had done what no one else in my extended Yang clan had thought of doing for me. She inspired me to hope for a better future – one where young Hmong women could also receive gifts of cash pressed into their hands from other Hmong people who believed in them.
I have talked to people who wonder how it’s possible to be committed to acts of social change when they have so little to offer. There’s a saying in the Hmong language, “Kws me los kom tau ntau”. Literally translated, “work little, but make a lot”.  I think this is about believing that as individuals, we have what it takes to multiply the goodness and wealth of relationships in our lives. Social change is not as difficult as most people think. If my aunt who was on welfare could do it, so could you.
Will you work to press $20 into the hand of deserving Hmong girl or young woman the next time you see them, especially someone who is not in your own clan right now? If you do, think about the fact that you’ve just committed an act of social change. I am sure you will not only get gratitude. You will have created the beginning of Clan for Hnub Tshiab – a new day for Hmong women and girls.
MayKao Y. Hang
President/CEO Amherst H. Wilder Foundation