You were born in Thailand in the Mae La Refugee Camp, the biggest of the refugee camps on the Thailand-Burma border, and it is where you lived for the first 8 years of your life before coming to the States. Can you tell us a little bit about your own family’s journey from Burma to Thailand and ultimately to San Diego, CA?

I am a Karen refugee from Mae La Refugee Camp, Thailand. My mom is from Htee Poe Mu and my dad is from Law Ghna but they both had to flee to Thailand for safety and security. My parents both entered the Mae La Refugee Camp when they were very little, and met there when they were teenagers. It is also where I was born. When you tell a person that you are from a refugee camp, somehow they always feel sorry for you because they expect it to be sad and heartbreaking. But for me, it was not like that at all; I had such wonderful childhood memories from the refugee camp. I enjoyed swimming in the river, climbing on the trees, and doing all sorts of adventurous things with my dad and my sister. My childhood memories from the refugee camp are definitely better than the childhood memories in America. Sometimes I try to think of sad stories about my life in the refugee camp to write about for essays but even though I think and think, nothing sad can come to my mind. I have very loving parents and they always did their best to provide for me and my sister in the camp. My dad went out daily to work and my mom sold food from the front of our house so whenever I was hungry, I would go and sneak food from there. 

But even though everything was great for me, it was tough for my parents. The camp was built like a prison and the Thai soldiers would take advantage of us Karen people because we did not have legal citizenship status. We had to follow every rule of theirs because we were living on their property, but of course as a child, I knew nothing of this. Nothing at all: not knowing that my parents had to go hungry themselves so my sister and I could be full, not knowing that they could hardly sleep at night due to the fear of being kicked out of the camp for no reason. I remember hearing about how when I was four months old, my mom went to visit her family in a village and when she was on her way back, a Thai soldier stopped them and told everyone to get out of the bus. Somehow my mom managed to stay on the bus even though she was in so much fear because a woman next to her kept telling her to stay, and they eventually let her go. The people who did get off the bus were sent to jail or had to pay a fine. My mom said that day was a miracle from god because if the woman was not next to her, she would have gotten off the bus and probably would’ve been sent to jail. 

From what I remember, the school system went from kindergarten all the way up to freshman year of high school. In order to continue your education past freshman year, you had to pay extra, and if you couldn’t afford it, then you would not be able to go to school anymore. If you failed your class, you had to keep repeating the class until you passed, no matter how old you were, unless you had kids or decided to drop out. I remember sitting on the floor for class and that when there were desks, they were very small. Although the school system was very bad in the refugee camp, I did enjoy it more there because everyone was so nice to each other and played together. Everyone was kind and I fit in a lot better there than in America. 

I recall waking up one day and hearing my mom yelling my dad’s name in joy and telling him that America had opened its doors to refugees. Because I was so young, I had no idea where we were going but I was very excited because my parents told me that if we left the camp and went to “this” place, I would have a better education and more opportunity. My parents filled out the applications provided by the International Organization for Immigration (IOM). Of course it was not an easy process, requiring months and months of waiting, many interviews, many classes, and lots of medical check ups. After years of going through the process and nearly being denied due to my dad's lung problem, we finally got the news that our application had passed and that we were approved to come to America. 

The month of August 2008 was a life changing one for me. On August 24th, we left our home in the Mae La Camp for the bus station. When we got there, there were big buses and people giving out shoes and jackets. Two hours later, we got on the bus and left for Mae Sot, where we stayed at a hotel provided by the IOM for one night. It was my first time seeing a bed ever and so of course, I was full of excitement and kept jumping on the bed. My sister and I kept playing because we’d never seen such a beautiful room, and it took us a long time to fall asleep because we were so ready for our new adventure. From the hotel, we had to get on another bus to take us to the Bangkok airport, and from there we boarded 3 more planes before finally getting to our destination: San Diego, California. Our case worker picked us up at the airport. Driving through downtown to our new home, my eyes popped out of my head because the city was so beautiful. I had always imagined that America was full of tall buildings, big houses, and a lot of snow, but when we finally got to our new home, all the city views were gone because we were placed in City Heights, which is considered to be “the ghetto” and full of gangs.

According to a recent report, about 1,500 refugees from Burma live in San Diego. What was it like for you to grow up in San Diego as a Karen youth? 

I arrived in the United States in 2008 when there were not many Karen yet, but around 2010-2011, more Karen started to come to San Diego. Honestly, I don't really have many memories of my childhood growing up in America. 

My parents were busy working and most of the time, it was just me and my sister spending time in our room. They never really let us play outside because City Heights is considered dangerous. I remember always seeing police coming to my apartment to check on people or arresting people for using drugs or for fights and all those kinds of things. They also never really took us out because they don’t speak English and are not familiar with San Diego. I guess my childhood in America was pretty sad -- I didn’t have your stereotypical experiences like birthday parties at Chuck E. Cheese. Now that I drive, I am trying my best to explore San Diego on my own or with my friends because I never really got to explore the city as a child. 

Growing up in City Heights as a Karen, we got bullied a lot — well, at least I did.  I’m not sure why, if it was because I didn’t know how to speak English? School had always been my favorite thing but it was so hard to wake up and get ready for school knowing people would judge you. I was the only Karen in my class and one of two in the whole elementary school. Not knowing how to speak English, I felt like I was always the center of attention. Out the corner of my eyes, I could always feel the glances from the other students. I really wanted to learn but because I felt so left, I started to hate school. My teacher was great and super nice, but of course one teacher can’t keep focus on all thirty students at once. There are just some young people who like to see others down so they can feel good about themselves, and because of my background, I was the target of bullying. However, I was not only bullied by people from other communities, but also by other Asian Americans. I never really understood how or why an Asian person would bully another Asian, but maybe it’s because I didn’t speak English, I wasn’t born in the United States, or I arrived in the U.S. later. It’s usually white people who tell immigrants “go back to your country,” and while City Heights is a very diverse place, in my experience, it was more common for other immigrants to say this to other immigrants. But you can’t really blame them.

Looking back, I remember how when I was in middle school, I was really embarrassed to tell people that I am Karen because no one knew what Karen was. I used to hate being treated differently and when I was 15, I wrote a poem called “Remember Me”:

Remember me
Remember the girl who sits in the corner of the class with her mouth shut because she does not speak English?
Remember the girl who passed by you in the hallway with her head down and never dare to look at you because she is poor? Or the word you would called “broke” because that is what generation now use
Remember me
When I say “ remember me” I don’t mean to remember me but I want you to remember as in who I am, where I came from, my blood, and my people
I want you to remember me because I am Karen
I am nothing special but a normal Karen girl who is from a refugee camp
Remember that I was born on the floor of bamboos with birds singing in the sky and people celebrating on Earth
Remember that swimming in the river was the best thing ever and no ocean will ever replace that
Remember that I never wanted to leave my home but I had no choice because wars are happening
Remember that I come in peace because I just want a place to stay
Remember that I do not want to take over your land 
Remember that I do want to go home
The place where I came from
The place where I was born
Remember me because I am Karen and one day I will go back home
Remember me

Most of the time I would tell people that I am Thai since I am technically from Thailand. But seeing how most Americans treat Karen people who do not know how to speak English made me realize that I was being selfish. I want to help my community and be more involved. I can’t be afraid to tell people who I am just because people don't know. I want to help spread knowledge about Karen so that more people can know about the beauty of Karen culture and history. So today I am very proud to say I am Karen.

I always had a dream to go back and live there one day but as I grew older, I realized that how can a refugee camp be my home? Refugee camps are temporary solutions to permanent trauma. Home is not home when it is not permanent, and when it’s a place you were never supposed to belong. Even the Thai government recognized that the refugees were not citizens even if they were born and raised there their whole lives. Refugees are refugees. We are not meant to be permanently displaced but for there to be a solution. What am I but a refugee without a home. Where is home for me? I was born in Thailand but my only citizenship is the American one. My nationality is American, but from the treatment of others, I am still a stranger in a place I am supposed to call home. I grew up in America and hold citizenship, but why am I asked “What are you?” I simply cannot answer “American” because the follow up is “What are you really?” For many years, the question of home really has always been in my head and has always been a topic I talked about with others and use in my poetry. 

One of your dreams is to become an educator and go to Burma and Thailand to teach refugee youth. Can you talk about the significance of education in your own life and in the Karen community? And why is it important to you to return to the refugee camps and teach there?

“The more that you read, the more things you will know, the more that you learn, the more places you’ll go.” -- Dr. Seuss. I have memorized this phrase since the third grade, the first time I attended an American school. There is a deep meaning for me in this quote which I did not comprehend until I experienced it myself.

Being a foreigner in America is an identity I am constantly reminded of. I was a 9 year old child who had to translate for my parents when going to appointments or picking up prescriptions. I had to help my parents write checks and translate letters for them from the mails we received. I never understood why we had to move to such a complicated place where we did not fit in or belong. I struggled a lot.

It took me a while to realize that my parents came to America not because they wanted to, but to give us an opportunity they never had. Reminiscing about my past and seeing how I have gotten this far inspires me to want to help my friends and family who are not able to fully see the opportunity in front of us. Because we are refugees, most people who come here begin working automatically in factories and thinking there is no chance of better work or education. I want to show them that we are no different from everyone else in the world: we all have a voice which can be heard. 

On December 17th, 2019, I went back to Thailand. It took about 26 hours from Los Angeles to Thailand, and was the longest flight I have ever flown in my life, longer than when I first came to America. From Bangkok to Mae La Refugee Camp, it took me about a week because my uncle made many stops on the way. The day I stepped foot back into Mae La Camp, the first thing that came to my mind was “Oh my goodness, I am homesick for America.” I wanted to get out of there so bad and come back to America. Everything was so small and so crowded. Nothing was the same as I had imagined. The river was full of trash and everything was dirty. I thought to myself maybe this isn’t for me, that maybe I should just teach in America and not back in the camp. But as days went by, I started visiting around the camp. I saw children on the street begging for food yet who didn’t complain even when they didn’t get anything. I realized that I failed to appreciate life in many ways. I am so blessed to be able to have all these opportunities in life compared to all my relatives who are still left in the camp. They have so little yet they are so thankful and so appreciative. Seeing all the old places, the old memories, and all the children there made me realize where I truly belonged. The camp is where I am from, and one day I will go back and be a teacher to help the children there. 

I believe that education is very important. I have always loved school since I was young. I would always play school with my sister and I would be the teacher while she and her friends were the students. We would use sticks as pencils and the dirt ground as paper; it would have been a dream come true for us to just receive one piece of paper and one third of a pencil. But for most of us, without education, we cannot get really far in life. My parents always told me to focus on school and to study hard so I can one day be successful. My career goal is to become a teacher because I want to inspire others. I am a refugee who is now in America so I would like to be able to go back one day and help the refugees in Burma and Thailand. I want to build my own school and teach those who can't afford to pay for school. When I become a teacher, I hope that people will look up to me and that I will inspire them to achieve their dreams. 

The Karen Organization of San Diego (KOSD) was founded in City Heights (San Diego) in 2009 with the mission of providing educational and social support to various ethnic minority groups from Burma. How did you get involved in KOSD and ultimately become its current Culture Program Assistant? 

“Karen Organization of San Diego (KOSD) is committed to the educational and social enhancement of various ethnic minority groups from Burma who reside in San Diego. KOSD programs include, but are not limited to, helping refugees to navigate the welfare, healthcare, education, law enforcement, and public safety systems in the U.S., as well as providing leadership opportunities for youth and adults, connecting refugees from Burma with employment, community empowerment programs, and tutoring and English language training. At the same time, KOSD is a community and cultural space where refugees from Burma can explore their new home together through a strong community support system, while remembering and maintaining their cultural heritage.” — excerpted from the KOSD website

I have been involved with my community since I first arrived in San Diego, and when KOSD was established in 2009, my parents pushed me even harder to to go perform and participate in all the activities. I really enjoy dancing the Karen Don Dance because of the legacy of it. The music is very unique and the dance was created to reunite all the Karen. According to the Karen Organization of Minnesota: 

“The don dance is a series of dances performed by groups of dancers and accompanied by traditional Karen instruments. Don means to be in agreement. The person who leads the dance is called the don koh.  Don dancing originated with the Pwo Karen, who developed it as a way to reinforce community values. However, the don dance has changed in significant ways since then. Under military dictatorship it was used to glorify Burmese socialism and then for the musical expression of the village or regional pride. Now, the don dance is known as a musical expression for national pride—or Karen nationalism. It is performed at many celebrations.”  

I also joined the First Generation program, which is a program for the youth to come and participate in community activities and to build relationships with one another. The group was created to gather refugee youth from Burma. We are giving back to the community in San Diego by doing beach clean-ups, community clean-ups, the San Diego Walk to Fight Suicide, Feeding San Diego. I came from a vulnerable background so giving back to the community is very rewarding. Also, as a first generation youth, we found that preserving our culture and traditions are very important so we formed a culture program at KOSD.

Recently when I started my first year of college, KOSD needed a staff member for Culture Program Assistant. Since I like dancing Karen dances so much, I thought this position would be a good way to pass on our community’s traditions to another generation of youth so they can learn about who they are, and ultimately pass it on to future generations so the tradition can stay alive forever. 

The work you do now with KOSD and the work you want to do as a teacher is rooted so deeply in your love for your community. Who are the people in your life who helped cultivate this passion for advocacy and education?

I want to take this moment to talk about my parents because they are my biggest inspiration. My mom’s parents divorced when she was only 8 years old due to an unhappy arranged marriage, and from there she had to raise her two little siblings all by herself. Most of the time they lived on the street because her mom was an alcoholic and a gambler. Her father got married to a new woman but they lived very far away. My mom then entered the refugee camp to stay with her aunt but she was treated like a slave and did not even get to finish third grade. But she always dreamed of going to school. So when she first arrived in San Diego, she enrolled at the Mid City Camp Adult School, and because of her hard work, she picked up English quickly and even got all the way up to English Level 4. Even though my dad is the one who works outside, I really admire my mom because she is the one who handles everything, including all the bills and all of the housework. 

As for my dad, he came from a good family. He finished 9th grade and taught Karen at the local school in Thailand. He is such an amazing artist: he loves to paint, he loves to write, and he always DIYs stuff. Because of him, I really enjoy writing, mostly poetry. He is also a hard working father. Ever since he came to America, he never once took a vacation. Even when he gets very tired and sick, he does not complain and always goes to work. 

There are obviously many more things I could share, but it would take a whole book for me to write about how much I admire my parents. When I become a teacher, I hope my students will look up to me and be inspired by me, just like how I am so inspired by my parents. 

To share more of what Karen have gone through, I also want to share a little story about my grandmother, who is now in her late 70s. She called the Karen State of Burma her home. She was born and raised there. When we have our family gatherings, she talks of exile. I believe she was in her early to mid-thirties when the civil unrest began, meaning she probably knew what life was like before the exile. My grandmother has experienced it all: the experience of a home where she belongs and is welcome, and the experience of exile, displacement and resettlement. 

Grandma Ni Ta grew up in a small village in Asin, Burma. She lived in the village with her parents and sisters. Her parents worked while she attended school. However, everything that she learned was controlled by the Burmese government and one of the emphases they put on the education the Karen was able to receive was that absolutely no Karen was to be taught the language. Many Karen and other ethnic minorities were not happy with how things were. These leaders petitioned world leaders for permission to arm themselves and counterattack, to be able to defend themselves against the Burmese army. The Karen called this the Ta Ber Ser Ta Du, the English equivalent of the word revolution. Ta made sure that I understood that the Karen would never attack first; they would only fight back if the Burmese provoked them first.  

Grandma Ni Ta was a very involved individual in the Karen Revolution against the Burmese militants. In 1952, at the age of 13, she volunteered to join the Karen army so that she may help in any capacity that she could. When I asked her if she fought, she said she did not because children were not allowed to fight, especially the girls. She actively served in the army for 10 years before quitting to get married at the age of 28. During that time, there were no refugee camps. Most Karen people lived on the Eastern border of Burma. When the Burmese army neared, the women and children were sent to the western border of Thailand for safety and the men stayed to fight in Burma. When the Burmese army left, the women and children returned to Burma. When I asked if the Thai were aware of this flow of refugees, she confirmed that the Thai government knew. In 1984, the Karen received the title of "refugee" following a meeting with the world leaders. Her memories are unclear of when the refugee camps were established in Thailand. From what she does remember, she did not want to depend on the support of the host country and other world organizations any longer and wrote a letter to the US government in 2004. In her letter, she asked for the government to help the refugees and to bring them to the "third world." In the year 2006, the International Organization for Migration (IOM) came to Mae La Refugee Camp and recruited refugees who wanted a new life in a new world, and in 2007, Grandma Ni Ta received her immigration status and successfully made it to her new home in Fort Wayne, Indiana, in 2008.  

To learn more about the critical work that the Karen Organization of San Diego (KOSD) is doing:
Website: http://karensandiego.org/
Facebook: @KarenOrganizationSD
Address: 5354 University Ave, San Diego, California