Happy Anniversary, Fulbright Decision!

Exactly a year ago today, I was told that I had 26 hours to decide whether or not I was going to pack up my life to live and work for a year in Vietnam. Twenty six hours and no later.

The moment stood out to me so much because when I received the phone call, I was on the CalTrain to San Francisco, getting ready for my first big performance in front of an audience of over 1,000 people at the San Francisco Castro Theatre. (Shoutout to NAPAWF APAVM womyn!) I also remembered that moment so clearly because that was the moment that my career path had split into two – same goal, but different journeys. One path had already been clear: I was to interview for a small school that was more aligned with my vision of community education, and to continue pushing myself in my personal goals. I had achieved my fastest half-marathon and full-marathon times that school year, developed meaningful relationships with the people around me, and felt I had achieved self-love for the first time in my life.

Now another path appeared: I was to return to my parents’ – my homeland to challenge myself and grow mentally and emotionally; I was given the opportunity improve my skills in teaching English Language Learners, to learn about Vietnamese culture, and to build relationships with the family that I never got to know beyond one-week vacations to Vietnam.

I knew both roads were related to education and would eventually lead me back to the same career goal, but both alluded to different year-long journeys. Thanks to my dad’s cautious upbringing, I had never chosen a risky path growing up. I also always had a supportive community each time I moved someplace new. If I chose Fulbright Vietnam, I would have had to start a new community, despite the fact that my family was going to be somewhere in the country. (I hadn’t known I would be placed in Hue, yet.) If I stuck to the path I had already planned for myself, I would become more deeply rooted in my school district’s community, and further build the personal relationships that fed my soul the love it needed each and every day.

But after talking to my housemate Andre, I knew what I really wanted. But I still had to sleep on it. I performed my heart out that night, the thumping of my chest amplified by the combination of stage-high and the decision looming over the evening. After the adrenaline died out and fatigue crept in, I let my mind rest on the decision, and called the advisor. “Yes, I’d love to take the position.”

After I ended the call, tears welled up in my eyes. I would have to leave everything and everyone who made me who I was for at least 10 months. I took a risk for the better good of my future, hoping that I would come back a more resolved and informed person, as well as more culturally competent with added tools to better communication with families from immigrant backgrounds. I knew the realization of the benefits would soon outweigh the sadness, and that America would see a better me by the end of my term.

Almost 10 months later, I not only achieved that I set out to do, but I achieved more than I could have ever imagined. I’ve fostered learning that had Vietnamese students defy the stereotype that they couldn’t express themselves creatively or critically in English. I’ve learned how to use Vietnamese in the classroom to enhance English language learning. I’ve provided balanced viewpoints about American culture in lectures and have provided opportunities for students to learn by drawing comparisons between what they know of Vietnamese culture and what they learn in class. I’ve engaged students in critical discussions about American government and policy-making while having them role-play the process within the different branches. I’ve learned from first-time-teaching mistakes and adjusted instruction accordingly. I’ve implemented a feedback system that allows me to check in on students’ understanding and investment at the end of each lesson. I have met my professional goals, and I have also established and met new goals I made along the way.

Almost 10 months later, I’ve also established two homes: Vietnam and America. In Vietnam, I’ve made good friends in each region I’ve lived in, especially Hue. I’ve developed meaningful relationships with relatives, friends – Vietnamese and ex-pats alike – and students. I’ve hung out with the same family members who witnessed my parents’ growth and saw myself in their stories. I’ve become part of another family, as I notice when I accidentally call Di Ngoc “mom” and intentionally call Khoai, Su, and No my brother and sisters. I’ve fed my need to run by training and beasting  through a half-marathon in Phu Quoc with friends in the hot hot heat.

As for my connections in America, I’ve strengthened bonds with close friends I saw often at home, as well as reconnected with friends I rarely saw but still held close to my heart. I’ve utilized video chatting way more than I ever would. I’ve grown to understand each of my family members through communicating with them and the people grew up loving them, as well as our context in terms of where we’re rooted and where we resettled.

In one week, my work in Hue will end, and I will be on my way to waving “hen gap lai” to friends and family all along the country. I will have to leave everything and everyone who made me who I am within the past 10 months, but at the very least, I know I will be leaving as a better version of myself, and I owe it all to the people who have supported me throughout my time here, as well as the people who have helped me along the way.