Introduction: Knowing Who I Am, & Self-Acceptance

Hey PrYSM family! My name is Kevin Lam and I am Laotian and Vietnamese.  I graduated from SUNY New Paltz, NY, majoring in Asian Studies, and minoring in Theatre Arts.  I am excited to come into PrYSM as the new seaQuel Director (Mr. seaQuel).  I am enjoying learning about PrYSM, and getting to know the staff and youth.  In just a few conversations, the staff and youth have really grown on me.  The work PrYSM does is inspiring and humbling, and I am happy to be a part of this family.

In a traditional Asian family, the topic of sex and sexuality is very “taboo.”  My parents came to America as refugees escaping war-torn countries; struggling to make a living in a new country.  Being first generation, I feel pressure from family to live up to expectations.  These pressures were beneficial to me.  It is not that my parents forced me to do certain things, but wanted to push me to do my best, so I do not struggle as they did when they first came to this country.  From my perspective of growing up Southeast Asian, gender is a huge factor in the culture.  Men are not supposed to cry; they are supposed to be strong, not weak.  These are some aspects of how men are supposed to act.  They should not be feminine or express emotion.  Times are changing and because of how community is changing there is more difficulty with relating to the older generation due to age, and culture.  Many years have passed since my parents came to the U.S., and today they are more open-minded, and have slowly adjusted to westernized culture, but still strongly preserving their culture.  Growing up Southeast Asian, family has always been closely tied to my heart.  Family is community, and so when working with the Southeast Asian community I feel a strong bond with the struggle of the Southeast Asian community.  From the stories from my parents and relatives about their struggles after the Fall of Saigon 1975, their refugee experience, and their struggles in creating a new life for them and their families in America, it has shaped who I am today, and connects me more to the community, and culture.

Being one of two Asian families in my neighborhood, my parents and I are subjected to racism.  In schools, I am teased because of my appearance and perceived sexuality.  Growing up in a neighborhood where we are the “newcomers,” people do not value our knowledge or experiences.  Many do not know anything about Southeast Asia, or the struggles they have overcome to get to a point in life.  Being President of Asian Student Association (ASA) at my university, I spread awareness to the community about Southeast Asian culture and history.

“Coming out” to family is difficult, because of the importance family places on marriage, and continuing the family line.  My experiences in LGBTQ spaces are feeling like a minority within a minority, and issues regarding my community are not acknowledged.  By outreaching to GAPIMNY, an LGBTQ Asian organization, I learn from peers about issues facing LGBTQ Asian communities.

Working with PrYSM, I want to share my experiences with LGBTQ and questioning youth, and inspire them to make change in the community.  I want society to be aware of an LGBTQ Southeast Asian community, and our voices need to be heard.  I am coming into PrYSM to bridge the generational gap along with the differing communities so unconditional love is formed.  Being seaQuel Program Director, I look forward to empowering youth and hearing their stories, because each story is unique and contributes to making change.

“To be beautiful means to be yourself. You don’t need to be accepted by others. You need to accept yourself.”

— Thich Nhat Hanh

What’s Your Struggle? Obstacles of a Young Cambodian Man

People live their lives with many obstacles. Each obstacle has influenced a person to be the person that they are today. In society people are faced with two general obstacles – a personal and a financial obstacle. I am no exception to this.

My family comes from a time of genocide, the Cambodian Genocide to be exact.  Ever since the Khmer Rouge took over, no one has ever seen any of my grandparents.  Both my parents grew up in poverty and experienced the genocide at a young age.  My mother’s side of the family was so poor that she had to drop out of school. My father was able to learn about electronics and he would fix radios, toasters, and other little electronics. He saved his money and he was sponsored to go to America by a family friend and he brought along his pregnant wife, and his only son. My parents did not know how to speak English and were brought into a new country in order to escape the poverty- stricken Cambodia. At this time I was born in less than a year after they arrived in America.

As I grew up I found that I lived in an area called the West End, a poverty-stricken area in Providence, Rhode Island that is still considered a horrible place in which to live.  I still remember eating rice with soy sauce for days.  My parents would always fight and bicker because of the money issue to the point that my father left us many times. He would eventually come back but it was always tough to see them fight and him leave. When I was five years old we were able to buy a house, but a man was shot and killed at our door step.  We had to hide away and relocate to hotels on the outskirts of the city until they found the killer.  After a couple of years of trying to get settled in life again we faced another obstacle.   My father had huge debts that he never paid off in order to open his construction company. Soon after, my parents got into fights a lot more and my father left to Cambodia about three years ago and to this day has never returned.  He now has a new wife and she is young (as young as me).  My mom has a new boyfriend, and for the past three years I have moved apartments four times. I have had to get a small paying job to help support the family while I go to school, and now I am trying to find a way to pay for college.

It’s not that I have overcome my obstacles yet – my mother still lives in poverty, my family is not always united, and I have my own issues to deal with.  It’s by acknowledging my obstacles, and understanding that life is a series of obstacles, that these obstacles are just part of life that I am ready to live life.

A Laborer in My Own House

Anonymous

When I was three I cleaned my first toilet.  By seven, I was doing most of the household chores.  I was quickly taught to be a wife.  I was always in the kitchen helping my mother.  My mother is a traditional Laotian woman.  To her I was, in ways, a disappointment.  Growing up she was told that a son is a mother’s worth.  Sons lead the household and will maintain the family name.  A daughter is meant to be trained as a wife so she can be married out for money.  With my mother always hearing this while she was being raised in Laos, it is a no brainer to know that her idea of being female is very sexist.

She sets low sexist expectations for me.  She doesn’t expect much of me educationally.  To her a women is supposed to be dependent on her husband.  Since the husband is to be the provider, the wife must be ready to please him and his family.  My being married out is one of her highest expectations.  If you ask me, it’s one of the lowest of my expectations.

While growing up, my older brothers were always going to their friends’ houses, the mall and the park.  They were allowed to stay out late as well.  I had to wait until I was 14 to go to my friends’ house.  At 15 I was allowed to go to the mall without my parents, but only with my cousins, aunts and uncles.  I was told that it was unheard of to let a young girl go out.  I was told to stay home and do chores.  I wasn’t allowed to disagree or say anything back to my parents, elders, or brothers.  I was expected to listen and just do what I was told.

My life has been like this for so long and I’ve grown tired of being a laborer in my own house who’s meant to please everyone.  I’ve grown tired of being put down because of my gender.  I’m not the only one who goes through this.  Several Southeast Asian (SEA) females experience the same lifestyle.  With my mother and me it’s like a generation gap conflict.  It’s the same issue for the SEA women who have/are still going through this.  In Laos when my mother was growing up this was a part of her culture and it was the same for all her sisters.  I’m growing up in America so my culture is different from hers.  I told her this and she responded by saying, “You’re my daughter.  My blood.  You do what I say you do.  No talk back.”

In the end there is no room for compromise.  It is very common for SEA women to be left with no chance of negotiation.  Since there’s no room for talking many SEA women taken drastic measures.  According to the 2006 Southeast Asian Youth Survey PrYSM gave to young SEAs under the age of 18, out of the 99 people who indicated running away from home, 73% of them were female.  In the SEA community here in America, women suffer more than males.  SEA women have high rates of dropping out of high school, becoming pregnant as teens, being domestically abused and facing poverty.  Many of these high rates are due to the fact that SEA women are not allowed to speak.  They cannot stand up for themselves to their parents.  They are stuck in the ways of their parents’ upbringing, even though they are in America.  SEA women deserve the right to be able to speak up for themselves in their home.  They deserve to be heard.