A Reflection on Being Hmong & Stories of Resilience.
By Jane Lee, Canberra.
On this International Day of the World’s Indigenous People, I find myself reflecting on the remarkable resilience of indigenous cultures around the globe. The theme of resilience resonates deeply with me, shaping my own journey, the experiences of my family, and the rich history of my people—the Hmong. Our story is one of enduring strength.
The Hmong are an indigenous group residing in hill tribes across the mountains of Southern China and Southeast Asia. We have never had the concept of “owning” land or “having” a country, yet we have always held a deep connection for the land we call home. Over time, conflicts and differing perspectives on land ownership from dominant cultures drove us further from our ancestral homes.
My family’s story is one of displacement and adaptation. We are not alone in this story. We became refugees, fleeing war in search of safety in Western countries. I’m 1.5 generation—this means I navigate the complexities of straddling two cultures in unique ways that differs from those of first or second-generation migrants. “I’m a bat.” That’s what an elder in my community once said to me, “You’re neither a bird nor a rat; you are a bat.” A sociologist would simply say, “1.5 generation.”
My mother was pregnant with me when she fled her village. I was born in a refugee camp. I have no birth record. I will never truly know exactly how old I am. I was a baby when we arrived in Australia, making me the first Hmong baby in Canberra and possibly the first Hmong baby in Australia.
In Canberra, we were the only Hmong family for a long time. This was incredibly isolating for my parents, as our culture is collectivistic and thrives on community and complex family structures. It was hard to be alone and to be the outsider.
Dad, Mum, Peter and Jane.
From adversity comes strength, and I have been fortunate to witness resilience in its purest form.
My father arrived in the aftermath of the removal of the White Australia policy—a policy that centred mostly on the prohibition of people of Asian descent. Although he spoke 5 languages, he faced workplace discrimination and prejudice due to his colour and his accent. Yet, he persevered, working tirelessly each day with remarkable dedication. I have frequently thought, how unfair that he wasn’t treated with dignity and respect! But his ability to endure despite it all inspires me and I will be forever grateful to him.
My mother nurtured a garden that flourished with vegetables from vibrant purple corn to huge, plump pumpkins and included the incredibly resilient Hmong cucumber—a cucumber that is incredibly crunchy yet rich in water—which I’ve come to consider a symbol of our heritage and a way to stay connected to our distant mountain home. For her, gardening was not only a link to our agricultural roots but also a form of healing from the traumas of war and poverty. Every day, she tilled her garden, she also healed herself. And while her garden may not change the world, it thriftily ensured her children had fresh food, became source of community connection, where she became known as the friendly woman who provided fresh organic vegetables. My mum has no formal education, but she used the skills she had to build a quiet but meaningful life far from our people. I think that is pretty amazing.
My grandparents’ tale is one of extraordinary courage. My grandfather led over a thousand people to safety through dangerous jungles, escaping war and genocide. My grandmother’s quiet strength anchored our family through unimaginable hardship. Their resilience saved many, yet I often think of those left behind, still facing persecution but persevering. I grapple with guilt, not quite knowing what to do with it, letting it sit and then I reflect. And it drives me to improve and do my best to make a meaningful impact.
Today, the next generations of Hmong people are breaking new ground.
My sister, Michele Lee, has become the first Hmong-Australian playwright, giving voice to our stories on stage. Her journey from poverty and navigating bicultural identity, resisting societal pressure to conform to pursue her passion for art is a powerful testament to resilience.
My cousin, Suni Lee, made history as the first Hmong-American Olympian, winning gold in Tokyo in 2020. Despite facing health challenges, she triumphed with a bronze medal at the 2024 Paris Olympics. These stories of resilience inspire me deeply.
Despite attempts to erase our culture, we endure. We have lost much—our written language has vanished, and our oral language is endangered. Certain unique aspects of our language may be lost to the world soon. But we are here, and we are resilient. Our people say that to be Hmong is to be free—a powerful testament to our enduring spirit.
I think of this often, we are free.
Today, I celebrate not only my people but all indigenous cultures worldwide. I take immense pride in our resilience and find inspiration in the diversity and richness of indigenous heritage globally. Upholding our rights and celebrating our diverse cultures is essential, and it is this resilience that keeps our ancient traditions alive.
I also rejoice in the vibrant cultures that have survived against all odds. Growing up Hmong and witnessing these incredible stories of resilience has taught me that with the right tools, knowledge, and resources, we can uplift and empower even the most vulnerable among us to reach their potential and define a life well-lived for themselves.
I invite you to please take a moment to appreciate the resilience of indigenous peoples, learn from their wisdom, and support their right to preserve their unique ways of life. By doing so, we enrich our shared human experience and contribute to building a more inclusive, diverse world for everyone.
The author of this story, Jane Lee, is Deafness Forum Australia’s National Manager of Health Programs.
To First Nations people: We see you.