Trump Rally Attendees Desecrated the South Vietnamese Flag, a Symbol of Identity for My Community
Like many people around the country, I was shocked at the violence and disrespect that Trump supporters showed when they stormed the Capitol in D.C. Then I quickly noticed the South Vietnamese flag waving in the crowd — and my body tightened up.
As a first-generation Vietnamese American in the U.S., I am incredibly embarrassed at the number of Vietnamese Americans showing up at rallies in support of Trump. Let alone showing up, but also carrying prominently the flag of South Vietnam. To understand the offense, you must know a little about how serious flags are in the Vietnamese American community.
“That’s Not Our Flag”
The first time I saw any flag of Vietnam was in elementary school. I remember asking my mom about the red flag with a yellow star and she briskly said, “That’s not our flag.” I didn’t understand it, but it resonated with me as an immigrant in the U.S. — not feeling connected to here nor there. It had been the northern Vietnam flag.
The first time I saw the South Vietnamese flag was in college at a friend’s home. I remember sitting on her family’s couch watching television, and above her TV was a small yellow flag sticking out of a vase. I asked her what it was and she was a tad surprised that I didn’t know. She said pointedly, “It’s the flag of Vietnam.” I showed her the “official” flag of Vietnam and she replied in earnest that she had never seen the flag before.
I remember many times during college driving down Ben Franklin Parkway in Philly looking to see if there was a flag of Vietnam. There isn’t. For years, the Vietnamese American community has advocated for the South Vietnam flag to be put up, and the City of Philadelphia’s position is that it can’t recognize it as the official flag. One of the consequences of losing a war.
When I was 20 years-old, I went to Vietnam for the first time since emigrating at the age of 6. In anticipation of the trip, I recall nights dreaming about how the Vietnamese people would welcome me back into their arms. That didn’t happen. Instead, most people commented on my weird accent and I was surprised at how much I stood out.
But when I left Vietnam, I felt more connected to the Vietnamese people than I ever had, those in the U.S. and abroad. I felt an immense sense of pride to be Vietnamese. I’m an Asian American who never shied away from being Asian American. In the 6th grade, I rapped, “I’m Vietnamese, ya’ll just wanna-be’s.” I understood from a young age how people in the U.S. unfairly viewed me, and in turn I took on the belief that I wouldn’t be ashamed of where I came from. In Vietnam, I traveled throughout the North and the South. I got to see the places where my grandmother grew up and where my great-grandfather was laid to rest. I saw young people my own age and I saw another universe that I could have existed in.
A Vietnamese American Flag
When I came back to the U.S., I bought a moped, for no other reason than because people in Vietnam rode mopeds. I also brought back a Vietnam soccer jersey, a red jersey with a single yellow star in the front. I wore it all the time. Until my uncle saw me. I remember the anger on his face. He demanded that I take it off right away. My mom asked me to hand it over and I’m pretty sure my uncle burned it. Whereas the country of Vietnam was growing and moving past the Vietnam War, I came to understand that Vietnamese Americans live in a time warp, forever stuck in the time in which they emigrated — 1975, 1986, 1992, 1996, the waves of resettlement of Southeast Asians. And still, I understood the seriousness of it. This is why carrying the yellow flag and making sure it doesn’t get replaced is very much a part of the Vietnamese American identity, separate from Vietnamese people in Vietnam.
The yellow flag with the three stripes is the Vietnamese American flag. Every city I’ve lived in — Boston, Atlanta, Chicago, Philadelphia — and every city I’ve visited — Falls Church, Westminster, and Houston—seeing the yellow flag with the three stripes has been a guiding star in strange, new places. For me, it’s a symbol of safety and home. It’s where I know I can find a good bowl of hủ tiếu, where I can buy my favorite childhood snacks, and get some sữa đậu nành (soy milk but better than what you’re used to). Most importantly, where I know I can find community. Seeing the flag from afar constantly served to remind me of my family and of the importance of quyền (personal rights).
Will this flag survive another generation?
Seeing the yellow flag waving high next to Confederate flags has left me feeling ashamed of being Vietnamese American. I now live in Atlanta, Georgia. During the elections in November and Senate run-off election in Georgia, I outreached to Vietnamese Americans. Some would wish me well and be glad to be spoken to in Vietnamese, and then there were the Trump supporters. These voters would constantly lecture me and yell at me about not knowing my history.
In fact, I know my history very well. My history is the history of Vietnam, fighting for democracy and the rights of people to govern themselves. It is the history of my uncle, who was the oldest of 12, who died at sea trying to escape Vietnam. Growing up, my mom and aunts told me endless bedtime stories about what a great person he was — defying the oppressive Vietnamese government, organizing boats to get people out of Vietnam. During times of starvation, he shared food and money to those in need, and how he always looked after his siblings. He was in his late thirties when he snuck out of Vietnam by boat, hoping to make it to the U.S. As a fugitive of the state for his political activities, he could not immigrate through legal means. Sadly, my family never heard from him and we presumed he died in his attempt. Then there is the history of the confederate flag. It is a flag that represents the fight to preserve the institution of slavery.
These are two flags that represent war and the “losing side” — but one is explicitly about oppression and slavery and the other is about freedom. Understanding this means that one can never carry the South Vietnam flag and the Confederate flag together.
There’s already a tenuous relationship for young Vietnamese Americans and the flag, because the flag is tied to a war that we never lived through. I myself have complicated feelings about the flag. On the one hand, I reflect on and am driven by the stories of my uncles, my aunts, and my mom. Stories of young dreams dashed away because of war. On the other, I yearn for the Vietnamese American community to move on from the war as people in Vietnam have.
But at the intersection of not here nor there, what we have is the yellow flag with three stripes. That’s why I’m not giving it up to the Trump supporters. And I‘m not going to stand for it to be displayed next to the Confederate flags.
It’s mine and my family’s flag, too.