Finding roots back to Laos: Hmong elders harvest vegetables to feed their community, overcome traumas
APPLETON – The sun was already scorching by 9 a.m., but it didn't deter the three women from harvesting over 300 pounds of yellow squash in under an hour.
Such understated feats happen every time these septuagenarians get their hands dirty in a garden. Covered head to toe, Chee Thao, Ker Vue and Mao Vue crouched along rows of vegetation, loading their arms with yellow squash, zucchini and regional variations like summer ball and patty pan summer squash.
"I grew up gardening, cultivating the land, raising crops all my life," said Mao Vue, her words translated from Hmong by NEW Hmong Professionals Executive Director Long Vue. "Whether in Laos or in this country, I try to do as much as I can, and gardening is my life."
NEW Hmong Professionals, the northeast Wisconsin group dedicated to preserving the culture, history and well-being of Hmong people living in the Fox Valley, created the Hmong Elder Herbal Gardens Initiative in March. They meet twice a week at Riverview Gardens, where they volunteer with its Community Supported Agriculture, or CSA, program.
RELATED: How did Hmong people find their way to Wisconsin? The answer has roots in America's Secret War
Gardening offers safety in the familiar after decades of living with the traumas endured by war, displacement, state-sanctioned torture, isolation and anti-Asian sentiments and hate crimes after emigrating to the U.S.
According to a recent fact sheet from American Psychological Association, suicide is the eighth leading cause of death in Asian Americans, compared with all racial groups combined where suicide is the 11th leading cause of death. Zooming in on women ages 65 and 84 across all racial groups, Asian American women have the highest suicide rate.
Long Vue said many Hmong people, and especially elders, relived the trauma of emigrating to the U.S. — the hatred, bullying and anti-Asian violence — when some U.S. leaders, the former president among them, referred to COVID-19 as the "China virus." This rhetoric escalated bigotry and xenophobia in Asian American and Pacific Islander communities, an escalation that further isolated Hmong elders who often find it difficult to navigate language and cultural barriers, a lack of resources and, at least for these three women, an inability to drive.
"The pandemic hit Hmong elders especially hard because they cannot drive, there's a language barrier, they often live alone," Long Vue said. "This project allows them to do something they love to do, which is garden."
Long Vue said the Hmong elders who volunteer with Riverview Gardens take part not only because farming is "in their blood," but because it's a way for them to give back to society.
The hundreds of pounds of food they seed, cultivate and harvest go to food pantries associated with Feeding America Eastern Wisconsin, which works in partnership with Riverview Gardens.
It's a service that hits close to home for Mao Vue, Thao and Ker Vue. Fleeing their homelands meant languishing in jungles decimated by chemical warfare, fording the aggressive currents of the Mekong River and living in makeshift camps rife with parasites and disease.
"They are lucky to be alive," said Long Vue, who is a nephew to Ker Vue but unrelated to Mao Vue. "They grew up with no food, no education, no culture, no history. Now, to know who we are, we have to backtrack to our roots."
Shared history allows Hmong 'grandmas' to bond
Mao Vue, Thao and Ker Vue share fragments of the same history. Born in the early 1940s in northern Laos, none has a sense of her birthday or age, which is a result of a lack of historical records. Instead, they shrugged and guessed their birth years with a light chuckle.
Generally speaking, many Hmong villagers started agricultural work as children living in the mountains of Laos, but war left them without a homeland. Hmong soldiers who assisted U.S. troops in the Vietnam War were persecuted along with their families by the victors. They had no choice but to flee to refugee camps in Thailand, eventually emigrating to the U.S. and France between the late 1970s and the mid-2000s.
RELATED: Hmong refugees leave Thailand for Wisconsin in 2004
Mao Vue, born around 1943, said when she moved to California in 1989, it was the hardest thing she's ever done. She fled Laos with her husband and four children following U.S. troops withdrawing from the Vietnam War, where they stayed at a refugee camp in Thailand until obtaining U.S. sponsorship.
Before they made their way to California, Mao Vue's husband died, leaving her to herd four young children to a country she didn't know in a language she couldn't grasp. She eventually made her way to Oshkosh.
Her children, adults now, have scattered across North America. Gardening, she said, is a way to be self-sufficient, eat well and access her memories.
"Growing brings back memories from my garden with my parents, my siblings," Mao Vue, translated from Hmong by Long Vue, said. "Even after I got married, I gardened. My husband and I gardened together. It makes me think of those times."
Manimatana Lee, program coordinator for NEW Hmong Professionals, picks up the three "grandmas," as she affectionately calls them, twice a week and brings them to a farming site in Riverview Gardens.
Lee, 23, grew up in Wausau but started gardening alongside the elders in March to access her Hmong roots. She recognizes, too, the importance of farming from a mental health vantage point.
"Farming is a big part of their lives. When they farm, it's very therapeutic for them," Lee said. "It takes their mind off a lot of other stuff. They can just focus on their vegetables growing."
Lee said she sees a clear metaphor to what they do. If the vegetables are growing, it signifies a healthy progression, something akin to happiness.
Still, like the rocky earth beneath their crops, the hardships remain.
During a water break, Ker Vue dabbed away tears beneath a tree. Born around 1940 in Hatkhai, a small rural village in Laos, Ker Vue remembers with a smile the rice growing in green shoots well past her waist.
She fled after the Vietnam War to refugee camps in Thailand, where she waited until 2001 for sponsorship to emigrate to the United States with her family.
"Talking about gardening reminds me of my husband, who passed away," Ker Vue, translated from Hmong by Long Vue, said. "I cannot drive so I never see anyone unless I'm here."
Thao, similarly, said gardening is the only time she gets out of the house. Born around 1944 in Laos, focusing on vegetables comes second nature to Thao. She began growing green vegetables and corn when she was 7.
Before she arrived to the U.S., Thao lived in the Xieng Khouang Province, which has the tragic distinction of being the most intensely bombed place on the planet. Thao said she lived in abject poverty there, making the equivalent of $5 a day.
When she arrived in Menasha in 2004, she was shocked at all the houses. It was a kind of ownership she never experienced, nor could envision having for herself.
It took a long time for Thao to adjust to life in the Fox Valley. Waves of isolation, including the collective pandemic wave, made time move in slow motion. Where she could, she found places to garden, but the Hmong Elder Herbal Gardens Initiative gave her something more than a small plot of land to mind.
"I'm grateful to see everybody here. I get to share the same language. There are fewer barriers with them," Thao, translated from Hmong by Lee, said. "For me, it feels like home."
Natalie Eilbert covers mental health issues for USA TODAY NETWORK-CENTRAL WISCONSIN. She welcomes story tips and feedback. You can reach her at neilbert@gannett.com or view her Twitter profile at @natalie_eilbert. If you or someone you know is dealing with suicidal thoughts, call the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline at 800-273-8255 or text "Hopeline" to the National Crisis Text Line at 741-741.
This article originally appeared on Appleton Post-Crescent: Hmong elders in Wisconsin farm vegetables to cope with trauma
