Education is a Privilege
Mui
Vuong
Educational Opportunity Program Counselor
“Ho.c Va^~n,”—“education” is a privilege. Even in America, where education is an integral part of the culture, being educated makes you privileged. In third world countries like Vietnam where few educational institutions exist, people cannot even get an education unless they are already privileged. There, only the children of parents who hold important official positions can attend college, and many natives are fighting for equal access.
The courage and determination it took for them to leave their native country for a place unknown to them with the hope that they and their children could live a better life inspires me.
I was nine years old when my family and I left Vietnam for the United States. We were refugees in a small boat headed for a land we’d heard about but never seen. After six days at sea, we were rescued by the U.S. Navy. My family was sponsored by two American families from Utah. I was placed in the third grade in a school where my siblings and I were the only minority students. We spoke limited English. Despite this language barrier, however, I graduated from middle school as the valedictorian. Being recognized in this way made me realize I truly enjoy learning.
As the oldest child in my family, I was the one to pave the way. It was expected. I became multilingual, speaking Chinese, Vietnamese and English. Because my parents spoke so little English, I had to translate for them. One of the funniest experiences happened when I accompanied my dad to the doctor. I was in the seventh grade. My dad and I sat in the doctor’s office and as the doctor spoke, I translated. Examining my dad, the doctor asked, “How is your dad’s stool?” I must have had the most puzzling expression on my face because I was looking at the chair my dad was sitting on thinking it looked fine but wondering why the doctor would ask about his stool. Clearly, the doctor realized I didn’t know the meaning of the medical term “stool.” So he turned to me and said, “How is his shit?” I knew what that word meant!
Throughout high school, I was an eager student. But I was very lucky to have incredible teachers. I graduated seventh in my high school class. Even so, I had difficulty filling out the applications for admission and scholarships. My Math teacher helped me and so did my AP Chemistry teacher. She was a new teacher and very caring. Every day, she brought scholarship applications to class and helped us apply.
People from my culture and background knew very little about the social sciences, but I discovered a deep passion for psychology. I think, because of my experience as a refugee, I wanted to understand why people behave the way they do. I received a full scholarship from the Psychology Department at the University of Utah and graduated after four years. During that time, I accepted a part-time job as a math tutor working with the Upward Bound Program. Until then, I hadn’t met students who were like me, students whose backgrounds were similar to my own. I was excited by meeting them and realizing I could help, and they were thrilled to work with me. So my start in working with low-income and first-generation college students was accidental. The experience spurred me on to pursue a Master’s degree in Educational Psychology and eventually to enroll in the joint doctorate program with University of California, Davis and California State University, Fresno.
Although my family is proud of my academic achievement, I do not have support from them. The courage and determination it took for them to leave their native country for a place unknown to them with the hope that they and their children could live a better life inspires me. They never questioned whether I should go to college. That was a MUST. But my parents are still very traditional. They believe a woman’s main role and responsibilities should be her family. It’s very important to them that I have a family of my own. I’m not married yet, so in their view I haven’t achieved the most critical thing in life. My career and academic achievement are perceived as secondary.
In 1998, I had an opportunity to visit Vietnam for the first time since my family and I left twenty years ago. There were many social and economic changes, but one critical factor, the reason we escaped, remains the same: the lack of educational support and opportunities. Even today, there are only a few educational institutions and only the most socially privileged can attend. Youth from poor family backgrounds or whose parents have limited political affiliations have no educational opportunity. Consequently, hundreds of children beg in the street for food, money and whatever they can get to make ends meet. Often, these children stand outside restaurants and wait. As soon as the patrons finish their meal and stand up to leave, the kids rush to the table and eat whatever is left. This disturbing sight brought back sad memories. At the same time it reinforces and strengthens my conviction to pursue higher education and help others along the way.
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