What Being Vietnamese Means To Me
Written by HaMy Vu
Pictured: My brother giving his respect to our grandparents on their 80th birthday celebration (1998). Yes, that’s me in the red áo dài dress.
Being Vietnamese means always knowing my place in the world and respecting hierarchy. In Vietnamese, there is no simple pronoun “you”. Instead, there are “ông” and “bà”, or grandpa and grandma respectively, not just reserved for your parents’ parents, but anyone who is approximately your grandparents’ age; “bác”, for aunts and uncles who are older than your parents and any adults who are approximately older than your parents; “cô” and “chú” for your actual aunts and uncles who are younger than your parents and also any adults who are approximately younger than your parents; “anh” and “chị” for older brothers and sisters, and also those who around your age, but slightly older than you; “em” for younger brothers and sisters, but also those but slightly younger than you.
And these are just pronouns in the northern dialect that my family and I speak. Needless to say, to be Vietnamese, you develop facility at guessing age and placing yourself in age, power, and hierarchy at a very young age. With these hierarchical pronouns, you’re also conferring respect and you know perfectly well where you fit in, and therefore how you should engage with the other person. I understand and I follow hierarchies, though they may not always be about age, but also knowledge, expertise, authority, or simple respect.
Delicious Vietnamese Food
Pictured: My daughter Tessa’s dry clay representation of traditional Tet (Vietnamese Lunar New year) food for her class project (2021)
Being Vietnamese means I love and get to enjoy delicious food — some most westerners would know about — phở (a soup dish consisting of broth, rice noodles), bún (a dry noodle dish usually served with grilled meat), or nem cuốn (aka spring rolls, traditionally consisting of pork, shrimp, vegetables, rice, and noodle wrapped in damp rice paper). But then there are the lesser known acquired tastes, like the durian fruit, steamed snail, or trứng vịt lộn, (balut, or a fertilized developing egg embryo that was boiled). A traditional Vietnamese dinner is actually quite simple — rice, a shared bowl of vegetable broth, cooked protein like meat or tofu, and steamed or sauteed leafy vegetables. But if you’re like me and you don’t like green garnish vegetables or herbs like cilantro, mint, or scallion, you get lots of side eyes and questioning looks ... from your mother, and all the waitstaff at any given Vietnamese restaurant.
The Power of Community
Finally, being Vietnamese means understanding that I am not just an individual, but that I belong as part of something larger — my immediate family, my very extended family, the work that I do, and the causes I give back to. It’s knowing that the story of me began hundreds and thousands of years before I was born and being inspired by family members who did great things, not just for themselves, but their communities.
Pictured: My parents and their three kids, taken during my graduation weekend from grad school (2009)
Like my paternal grandfather, who was a community organizer who recruited his villagers to be part of Hồ Chí Minh’s Communist party, and was chased and shot at for his political work and beliefs. He would go on to devote much of his time, his resources, and advocacy to get my great great grandfather’s tomb recognized as a national landmark and build a local school in his name. Like my maternal grandmother who was very active in the city and national Communist women associations, served as a hospital director, and raised three children on her own. Like my dad, who translated books from English into Vietnamese to disseminate powerful scientific knowledge and dedicated his time to mentoring emerging scientists and supporting young scholars in his home country while living abroad. The power of community building means that we commit to an inspiring cause together, and we stick together through the tough times, losses, and doubts, but also through the soaring moments of thrilling big wins and break-throughs. The possibilities are endless if we choose to commit, be in service, and excel together to do something good — that’s part of what being Vietnamese means to me.
My dad passed away unexpectedly last week, and in this very difficult time of grief, I’ve felt more connected to what it means to be Vietnamese than ever before. I think I’m still discovering what it means, but I am deeply grateful for the forced process of discovering and, eventually, fully knowing.
HaMy Vu brings close to 20 years of experience as a teacher, data analyst, education research lead, and nonprofit executive leader. She provides leadership, vision, and management of Teaching Lab’s program evaluation, human resources, finance, and operations functions. She holds a B.S. in Policy Analysis and Management from Cornell University and an M.A. in Urban Education Policy from Brown University.
