2025 Wrap Up: 50th Joint Commemoration, Connected Histories & Solidarity

What I remember most about those first 50th Advisory Council meetings is our shared excitement and purpose we felt. From the very beginning, we all believed deeply in the vision of creating a joint commemoration to honor and celebrate the contributions of our communities coming together.

Each of us had been impacted by the Southeast Asian conflict in our own way, and there was a sense of responsibility, gratitude, and pride in being able to tell these stories together. It truly felt like an honor to collaborate on something so meaningful and historically important.

Working “jointly” and focusing on the five named communities as one collective story meant honoring the truth of our shared history. Instead of separating our experiences, it allowed us to recognize how deeply interconnected our journeys have been—through conflict, loss, resilience, rebuilding, and contribution.

For me, it was powerful to stand together as Southeast Asian communities, not as isolated groups but as a unified voice. It reflected the reality that our histories overlap, our struggles mirror one another, and our successes are strengthened when we lift each other up.

Working jointly also meant healing together. It created space for solidarity, understanding, and respect among our communities. And it demonstrated to the broader public that our story is not just about individual groups, but about a collective strength that has shaped who we are today and who we continue to become.

Going into this experience, my personal connection to the Southeast Asian conflicts is the Cambodian genocide which was rooted in the aftermath of the Vietnam War; it has always been deeply tied to my family’s story and the trauma my community carries. I grew up hearing fragments of what my family endured: the deaths and losses of loved ones, how they survived, and the sacrifices that brought us to the United States. Those stories shaped my identity and my understanding of why preserving our history matters so much.

But during the planning of these joint events, my perspective expanded in new and meaningful ways. I saw more clearly how connected our histories truly are, encompassing the experiences of Cambodians, Hmong, Lao, and Vietnamese. Listening to others share their stories made me realize that while the details differ, the pain, the courage, and the resilience are shared across all our communities.

This experience strengthened my sense of solidarity. It reminded me that our healing is interwoven, and that telling these stories together not only honors the past but also builds understanding, unity, and hope for future generations.
For the community I represent, the most important part of our storytelling during this commemoration was giving voice to a history that is often overlooked, misunderstood, or forgotten. For Cambodian Americans, the trauma of the genocide and the journey of survival that followed have shaped every generation—but many of our stories were never fully told, even within our own families.

This commemoration created a space where our experiences were finally acknowledged alongside the Hmong, Lao, and Vietnamese narratives—showing that our struggles, resilience, and contributions are part of a larger shared history. Being able to tell our story in our own words, with dignity and honesty, helped honor our elders, educate younger generations, and strengthen cultural pride.

Most importantly, it reminded our community that our history matters. Our survival matters. And our voices deserve to be heard—not just for remembrance, but for healing, unity, and the hope we pass forward to the next generation.
Something I really took away from working with the other communities during the MHC Advisory Council meetings and subcommittee work was how deeply our stories mirror each other. I’ve always known that the Cambodian, Hmong, Lao, and Vietnamese communities shared similar histories, but hearing people speak about their families, their losses, their escapes, and their survival made those connections feel even more real.

I learned how each community carries its pain differently, yet with the same strength and dignity. Listening to their stories made me feel less alone in mine. There were moments when someone from another community shared an experience, and I found myself thinking, “We lived through that too.” That sense of connection was powerful.

I also learned how much love people have for their culture. Whether it was through language, traditions, or memories of home, everyone was fighting to keep something alive. It reminded me of my own family, my parents, and the pieces of Cambodia they tried so hard to hold onto.

What touched me most was realizing that even though we come from different backgrounds, we’re all trying to honor our past and protect it for the next generation. Working together taught me that our healing is shared and that when we tell our stories side by side, we become stronger, seen, and understood in ways we never could alone.

For me, understanding one’s history is essential in shaping who we (Minnesotans) are, how we see the world, and how we pass our values and identity on to the next generation. When we don’t know our history, especially as children of refugees and survivors, we lose pieces of ourselves. I’ve felt that in my own life, and it’s why this work matters so much to me.

Amplifying the stories of marginalized groups is equally important because so many of our communities were silenced, ignored, or misunderstood for decades. Our histories were often told about us, not by us. When we share our stories in our own voices, we reclaim our narratives, honor our parents and elders, and create space for truth, healing, and pride.

Promoting a more accurate and inclusive historical narrative isn’t just about correcting the past; it’s about building a better future. When people understand the real histories of Cambodians, Hmong, Lao, Vietnamese, and other marginalized communities, it creates empathy, connection, and recognition. It helps others see our humanity, our struggles, and our contributions.

This work is powerful because it ensures that our stories are no longer hidden in silence but carried forward with dignity. It allows future generations to know where they come from, to feel proud of their roots, and to understand that their history is a vital part of the broader American story.