Confessions of a Hmong-Am Woman

To all the Hmong boys who have asked me before: why don’t you date Hmong guys?

Dear KenX,
If ever I believed in txoj hmoo, it would be because of you.
Hlub,
My Bilious Siab

From the time I was old enough to stand atop a chair pushed up against the stove, Hmong folks have looked at me and lamented to my parents, “She’s going to make some other family a great nyab one day.”

I was 4 years old

I have resented this “fate” or “destiny” my whole life even as I dutifully chased after younger siblings at meal times and scoured dirty dishes with my older, best-cousin who was also an eldest child and daughter. These “good Hmong girl responsibilities” stole our time away from being carefree, “impractical” dreamers. It was seemingly selfish to have expectations of our own, especially those carved from the force of who we were beyond our Hmongness. We were at core: Hmong girls. And if we wanted to be “good”, we had to listen well, listen often, and do what we were told.

This was in contrast to our same-age boy-kin (both brothers and cousins) who spent their time digging holes in the yard and sucking on soda cans while playing video games. Good Hmong girls learned to smile…