April 30th
Apr. 30th, 2005 12:11 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
greybetaApril 30th marks the end of April showers. On this day in history, George Washington was inaugurated as the first American President. Adolf Hitler committed suicide at the conclusion of the Second World War. North Vietnamese troops captured Independence Palace in Saigon, indicating the fall of South Vietnam. The Communists had unified Vietnam, land of the legendary dragon Lac Hong. Many Vietnamese fled the country in the following years, believing a better future could only be found outside the land of legendary Lac Hong. And thus the Vietnamese Diaspora was born on April 30th, 1975.
I am part the Diaspora as a second generation child living in America, born after the war and therefore emotionally distant from the events of that time. As such, I live at the concurrence of two overlapping but distinct heritages of the war. One heritage can be found on a simple black wall covered with names. Each name represents a life lost in a land far, far away from the American heartland. I can be lost by the fact that 58,000 Americans died in Vietnam; on the other hand, I cannot help but feel shivers down my spine as I walk past named engraved so thoughtfully on death black marble. The names transcend numbers, for each name begs to tell you a story about their family, their childhood, their future. But their story is silenced in stone, their lives cut short much too soon.
The other heritage comes from the hearts and minds of overseas Vietnamese. As the clan of dragon-born children spread themselves across the world, they encountered cultures and customs very different from their own. They suffered hardships and social blunders as they struggled to assimilate themselves into foreign cultures. They took on whatever jobs they could in order to survive. In view of this, they instilled in their children a sense of how fortunate they were to have abundant opportunities, opportunities that would have been denied back home. And though it all, the Vietnamese Diaspora carried their flag, three red stripes on a yellow background.
I am part the Diaspora as a second generation child living in America, born after the war and therefore emotionally distant from the events of that time. As such, I live at the concurrence of two overlapping but distinct heritages of the war. One heritage can be found on a simple black wall covered with names. Each name represents a life lost in a land far, far away from the American heartland. I can be lost by the fact that 58,000 Americans died in Vietnam; on the other hand, I cannot help but feel shivers down my spine as I walk past named engraved so thoughtfully on death black marble. The names transcend numbers, for each name begs to tell you a story about their family, their childhood, their future. But their story is silenced in stone, their lives cut short much too soon.
The other heritage comes from the hearts and minds of overseas Vietnamese. As the clan of dragon-born children spread themselves across the world, they encountered cultures and customs very different from their own. They suffered hardships and social blunders as they struggled to assimilate themselves into foreign cultures. They took on whatever jobs they could in order to survive. In view of this, they instilled in their children a sense of how fortunate they were to have abundant opportunities, opportunities that would have been denied back home. And though it all, the Vietnamese Diaspora carried their flag, three red stripes on a yellow background.
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Date: 2005-04-30 06:30 am (UTC)Two of my uncles served in Vietnam.
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Date: 2005-05-01 12:19 am (UTC)