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I Am Hmong Scholarship Winning Essay
By Melissa Yang, Vista Murrieta High School, Murrieta, California

How do you define Hmong and what does it mean to be Hmong?    Time wears down what it once was.  All that can be seen are the collapsed pillars, smashed megalithic lintels bridging posts, and scattered fragments of a majestic past.  The great European Stonehenge is a mysterious sight to behold.  What is it, those big, weather worn, rocks sitting on the hilltop?  Archaeologists have argued its origin from an ancient village to a gigantic calendar, but its history remains largely unknown.  It cannot be defined.  But the Hmong people can be defined in one word: Stonehenge.  In today’s modern American society, the Hmong people remain as solid as those giant stones despite how time has worn them down.  Families that may have collapsed in the Vietnam War, still strive firmly to leave their mark for the next generation in America.  The lintel bridging the traditional language to the second generation Hmong Americans may be smashed by the American melting pot, but the contour remains.  And scattered they be, in Wisconsin to Minnesota, Georgia to Texas, and Oregon to California; the Hmong continue to display a rich cultural past.  I define Hmong as an ancient sacred ruin and what it means to be Hmong is to be the gatekeeper: we must protect our heritage; guard our values; and pass on our knowledge to the next generation.
 
How has your family background and being Hmong affect the way you see the world?    As a second generation Hmong-American I have no inkling of the hardships my grandparents went through.  The run down duplex in San Diego; the stench of chicken coops and crowing roosters in the backyard; and the over-crowded Hmong-American Thanksgivings and Christmases in the kitchen are all what I know of my grandparents’ lives.  I do not know of the terrors they went through first-hand, however their perseverance, bravery and values are intrinsically ingrained within me.  And although my grandparents could not afford to pay for presents at birthdays, donations for school fundraisers, and ice cream from the grocery store; they always managed to keep our bellies full and our thirsts quenched.  Going to and finishing college is important to me in that I don't take for granted the sacrifices my grandparents made coming to the United States.  My Hmong heritage has always been a significant factor in my attitude and outlook on life.  When school gets too hard and the will to get up in the morning leaves me, I think of my father: five years old, taking a military helicopter back home, after school let out for the summer in Laos; and I am thankful.  When my friend gets a hundred dollars for her birthday from her grandparents, and I get five dollars from mine, I think of 1975: my grandparents putting the family on a boat over the Mekong River, while in fear of gun fire; and I am thankful.  When I am resentful of the cruel dictatorship and per curiam decisions of my parents’ household, I think of Laos: the secret genocide of Hmong people, and the impoverished conditions in which they live in; and I am thankful.  And because of this, I see the world as a gift of opportunities.